Archangel's Resurrection (Guild Hunter #15)(93)

Hannah, an artist of great renown, had a streak of green-and-white paint in the tight black curls of her hair, and a smaller streak of sky-blue against the ebony skin of her neck. She wore what appeared to be a white painting smock over which rose wing arches of deep cream. The smock was flecked with pigment, silent witness to the speed at which things had taken place this dark day. “He believed it was important he do that at once.”

Elena Deveraux’s silvery-gray eyes were unflinching in the face of so much power as she said, “Raphael’s done the same—he was heading to a meeting with Archangel Elijah when the sky changed, so he won’t be far behind him.”

That near-white hair pulled back into a tight braid and her upper body clad in a black leather jacket, her expression grim, she could’ve been an experienced warrior angel of many centuries of age. “Raphael didn’t want Archangel Elijah to be alone if there was a possibility that Archangel Antonicus might be rising.”

No one had any disagreement with the actions of either archangel.

“That leaves us with no reason for this meeting,” Neha said, her voice curt. “Let us reconvene when Elijah has returned.”

Alexander considered the other archangel. His spymaster had passed on rumors of Neha’s increasing disengagement from her court, and Alexander wondered if the Queen of India was so short with them because Antonicus’s resurrection would put a halt to her plans to Sleep.

If, as the signs indicated, the Ancient had risen, he couldn’t be in any way healthy. The ugly shade of the sky was in no way akin to the deep purple that had previously announced his presence. The best-case scenario was that he was fully mentally present, just physically damaged. That, they could work with; but if he bore wounds on the mental level . . . that could be deadly.

Archangels had too much power to wield it with anything but iron control.

As for Neha, it wasn’t hard to see her exhaustion. Her pain.

He might not have understood her anguish before he lost Rohan, but the man he was today knew what it did to a person when they lost a child. Neha’s daughter was never coming back, as Rohan was never coming back. But where Alexander had a grandson, a living memory of his beloved boy, Neha had been given no such grace.

No. He frowned. Neha had a niece, did she not? One she’d raised? Yes, he recalled her now. Princess Mahiya. An angel lovely and with wings as stunning as a peacock’s fan.

Clearly, there were things he didn’t know about Neha and Mahiya’s relationship if Neha was as alone in her grief as Alexander’s spymaster had reported.

Aloud, he said, “Is there any risk it could be one of the other Sleepers?”

Caliane shook her head. “I’ve consulted with Jessamy in the time since the skies altered. She says the Library has no record of such a perturbing waking for any other archangel in our history.”

She clenched her hand around the hilt of the sword she wore at her hip, her sleeveless tunic a faded cream and her pants leathers of the same shade. “Archangels wake in myriad ways, but the signs are always a thing of wonder and beauty. This is . . . foul in a way that makes mortals whimper and hide and immortals do much the same.”

“It’s also not apt to be one of those who went into Sleep with Cassandra,” Suyin said in her quiet voice, while Elena Deveraux ducked to the side as if listening to someone else. “Antonicus alone was wounded in a way that relates to these colors.”

“None of the others were even close to waking when I rose,” Zanaya added.

Elena Deveraux returned her full attention to the meeting. “Our lead squadron just overflew the area where Cassandra’s fire opened in the territory—they report no disturbances,” she said. “We get that her past behavior is no predictor as to her location, but it seemed a good idea to confirm.”

Alexander nodded, well appreciating the caution of Raphael’s consort and Tower.

“Then Neha’s right.” This from Aegaeon. “We meet again after Elijah’s return.”

Alexander didn’t miss the fact that Aegaeon hadn’t mentioned Raphael. Not exactly a surprise; Aegaeon continued to be humiliated that his son chose to serve the Archangel of New York rather than join his own father’s court. Alexander was in full sympathy with young Illium. Because where Aegaeon had squandered his child’s love, Raphael had earned the powerful young angel’s loyalty.

Now, the Ancient was one of the first to vanish after they agreed to the interval.

Titus remained onscreen after the others all followed suit. “Alexander, Zan,” he said. “We’ve had no signs of the reborn threat over the past two weeks. It might be that the original creature has either gone back into hiding, or died in the same sickly way as some of the reborn it made.”

Next to Alexander, Zanaya frowned. “You don’t think it’s Antonicus anymore.” A statement.

“With the sky altering color now . . .” Titus shrugged. “Should the signs not have been present earlier if this was him?”

It was a good question. “Do you sense him as you did before we flew to the cairn?” Alexander asked Zanaya, aware she’d shared her discomfiting ability with Titus.

She made a face. “No, not as then . . . but I do continue to get random snatches of sensation. Always pointing in the same direction.” Glancing up at Titus, she said, “I would ask, my friend, that you not lower your vigilance.”