Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(8)

Alexander couldn’t help but grin, and when his mother put her slender arms around him to hug him tight, he hugged her in turn. And it struck him how small and fragile she was; he was already taller and stronger than her. People could so easily hurt her.

Hit by a wave of raw emotion that clogged up his throat, he hugged her even tighter.

Afterward, his parents asked him if he intended to discard scholarship altogether, and Alexander shook his head. “My brother has often advised me that the warriors who rise the highest are the ones who are smart as well as skilled on the field of battle.”

“Those who stand in the courts of the archangels,” Osiris had said, “are more than brawn. They’re highly intelligent thinkers and informed strategists. Look, learn.”

Alexander had done exactly that, using the skills he’d learned at his parents’ knee to research the angels and vampires who stood as the seconds and senior courtiers of archangels. Not a single one could be labeled as brawn alone, though a number of them were lethal on the battlefield. Then had come the surprises. One second was an administrator with no battle experience whatsoever; still another wore the robes of a healer.

Alexander intended to get to the heart of those choices—as his parents had taught him, he wanted to understand. He didn’t want to just know. One was the surface of the lake, the other the deep waters beneath.

“I must admit I’m happy to hear that,” his mother said in response to his answer about his continuing scholarship, her fingers worrying the amber pendant she never took off. “Though it’ll be a path that will demand much from you. You’ll be careful of your health, won’t you, my son?”

When he complained to Callie about his mother’s overprotective worrying, she said, “That’s her job as a mother. At least that’s what my father tells me.” No twist of emotion on her face, an absence of memory.

Callie didn’t have a mama. Her mother had died giving birth to her. As a child, Alexander hadn’t understood how that could be so—immortals lived forever aside from in some very specific circumstances, most of which involved severe insult to the body, including beheading.

Older now and realizing he still didn’t truly comprehend any of it, he went home and asked his mother to explain it to him.

Gzrel was busy, but she put down her work, tucked her arm through his, and they walked all the way to the crack in the earth of the Refuge that had been there as long as Alexander could remember.





6


“It appeared some hundred years ago,” his mother said, having followed his gaze, “and it’s looking to develop into a gorge. I wonder what it will be in a thousand years, where it will stop its expansion.”

Alexander was used to such non sequiturs from his mother, especially when it came to the study of rocks and the earth, Gzrel’s specialty. “What do you think?”

“It’s too early to be certain,” she said with a frown, “but I disagree with those who are convinced the crack will swallow the Refuge. I believe it’ll stop expanding once it’s reached an equilibrium—though exactly when that will be remains a mystery.”

Alexander tried to think about what it must be like to be as old as his mother or father—thousands of years old!—but it felt like a rock on his chest, the idea of it. He wondered sometimes who he’d be if he ever reached such an age, but it was too far for him to imagine. Today was his reality, and today, he was listening to his mother talk about Callie’s mother. “Ma?”

“Yes?” She’d looked up at him, blinked. “Oh yes. Sorry, my son.” Patting at his arm with the hand she didn’t have tucked through it, she said, “Death in childbirth is unfortunately common among the mortals. Many things can go wrong while birthing a child, but as immortals, our advanced healing abilities ameliorate any such wounds to the extent that we never feel them.”

“Callie’s mother’s body didn’t heal?”

To his surprise, she shook her head. “As far as we know, it did. She didn’t die in childbirth—she died the day after. Even in his grief, Caliane’s father was adamant that the healers cut open his beloved, find out the reason why, for his daughter must have an answer. It must’ve been the hardest decision of his life—but it was the right one. No child should believe themself the reason for their mother’s death.”

Alexander swallowed hard, his throat thick. He couldn’t speak, so he just stared ahead and let his mother think he was simply concentrating on her words.

“What they discovered was that Caliane’s mother was destined to die—an element of her heart had never formed correctly. While such irregularities in growth are unusual among our kind, they can and do occur.”

Though his mother stopped there, Alexander was old enough to understand that Callie’s mother’s heart had collapsed badly enough to kill an immortal because of the power it took to birth a child.

Callie was smart. She’d know that, too.

Which was why Alexander would never ever bring up the topic with her. They might not be friends, but she’d always looked out for him and now it was his turn to look out for her. That was what it meant to be loyal, to be a good battlemate.

“Gzrel!”

His mother stiffened at the sound of her name shouted in an unfamiliar male voice, though her expression remained neutral. Skin prickling, Alexander stayed silent as a good-looking and tall warrior with curls of dark brown walked over to them. The stranger’s leathers were well-worn but a cuff of gold and precious gems encircled his wrist—a symbol of favor from Rumaia, the archangel to whom all three of them owed fealty.