Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter #7)(15)

“His mind?” Raphael had seen his own parents go mad with age, but Charisemnon was young in immortal terms.

“No. He is physically ill. My spies tell me he is bedridden, his body covered in sores.”

“Archangels do not get ill.” An immutable fact throughout angelic history.

“It appears Charisemnon is changing the rules.” Titus put his hands on his waist, biceps bulging. “I have spoken to my healer and Keir both about the possible cause—they believe he overextended his ability and it turned on him.”

Raphael considered that. “If we remove Lijuan from the picture, Charisemnon appeared to have the strongest Cascade-instigated gift.”

The other archangel had taken down hundreds of Raphael’s angels in a cowardly strike, leaving five dead and many so brutally injured they’d been little more than bleeding torsos. It would take months of excruciating pain before the youngest would recover, the crime of the Falling one Raphael would never forget. Vengeance among immortals was often a long and deadly process, and Raphael had learned the value of patience long ago.

“Yes.” Titus’s expression held grim pleasure. “The pestilent fool acted too fast, was too arrogant. Now he pays the price.”

“There’s another possibility.”

Titus frowned at Elena’s words, but made it clear she had his attention. Raphael knew that wasn’t the African archangel’s usual approach to women who were mated, married, or otherwise tied to a powerful male. It wasn’t misogyny—Titus had a strong contingent of women in his army, including Galen’s mother, Tanae.

It was that, in Titus’s mind, there were two kinds of women—the warriors, and all the rest. The latter were to be cosseted and protected and indulged, but not taken seriously. It had, Raphael knew, taken Titus time to accept that Elena didn’t fit into the second category.

Despite that, she remained young in angelic terms and wouldn’t have had the power to hold the attention of an archangel of Titus’s age had Titus not heard of her courage and loyalty during the final battle against Lijuan, when his hunter had chosen to die with him if it would save their people.

“She is a true consort,” the other archangel had said to Raphael when the two of them spoke not long after Raphael’s troops forced Lijuan’s into retreat. “You are a blessed man.”

An absolute truth.

“Lijuan,” Elena said now, “was”—a pause—“is known to share power with those close to her. We saw that with her generals during the battle. They could go for longer, heal faster than our men and women, but the boost only lasted as long as she was in play.”

“But to share power with one of the Cadre?” Titus’s scowl was thunder, his arms folded across his chest. “It is not possible.”

Raphael wasn’t so certain. “Charisemnon shouldn’t have been able to cause the Falling,” he reminded Titus. “He most assuredly should not have been able to negatively affect the older and more powerful of my people.”

“Yes.” Scowl even heavier, Titus gave a hard nod. “I will think on this. But as matters stand, Charisemnon has pulled his troops back tight to his own borders, and my army is stronger than his, since he cannibalized so many of his foot soldiers by using them as carriers of disease.” A dangerous smile. “It may be time I caused an earth tremor or two to remind the cur I do not need Lijuan to flex my ability.”

“I would be happy to see Charisemnon disappear into a bottomless cavern.”

Titus’s laugh boomed through the speakers, the sound huge and open. “I am not yet so strong, but soon.” Still grinning, he said, “Have you heard of Michaela’s most recent grab for territory?”

“I received her message an hour past,” Raphael said, and felt Elena’s immediate negative response, though her face gave nothing away. There is no cause for alarm, Guild Hunter. Michaela is simply slavering for Lijuan’s lands. Out loud, he said, “I plan to ignore her demand for a Cadre meeting to parcel out the land.” It was far too soon to declare Lijuan dead, especially when all indications pointed to the opposite conclusion.

“As will I.” Arms unfolding, Titus looked directly at Elena. “I am curious to experience a ‘block party.’ I have not heard of such.”

Guild Hunter, the floor is yours.

“It’ll be quite unlike an angelic ball,” she warned with a bluntness Raphael knew Titus would appreciate. “I’m sure that wherever Lijuan is, it’ll make her gasp in horror.”

Titus’s teeth flashed white against his skin. “That is no deterrent! I will be there unless the misbegotten son of an ass on my border manages to crawl out of his sickbed. Raphael. Consort.” The African archangel signed off.

Raphael’s hunter leaned forward to opaque the screen on their end before turning to glare at him. “You told me the invite was pro forma.”

“You will enjoy Titus, hbeebti. He is apt to ask you to spar with him as a sign of respect for your honor.” Seeing her begin to look interested, he added, “I would have to refuse on your behalf, of course, since Titus has no subtlety to him and will treat you like a blooded angelic warrior, tearing off your head and limbs in the process.”

Elena’s mouth snapped shut after having fallen open at the first part of his sentence. “You may possibly have a point.” Running her hands through the fall of hair she’d released from its tie, the shade akin to the white fire she’d seen on his wings, she sighed. “It’s not that I don’t like Titus. He seems okay from what I’ve seen of him, but I just want to celebrate our survival and victory with our city and our friends, not stress about doing the hostess deal.”