Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13)(12)
Her sweet boy’s father was an archangel. An Ancient. Not every child who had an archangelic parent ended up being Cadre themselves, but that was looking like a certainty with Illium. He was only just over five hundred years old, and already, there were those in the world who thought he should have control of a territory.
She knew he’d been offered many positions, but he stayed with Raphael both out of a deep sense of loyalty and love—and because he was intelligent enough to know that he wasn’t ready. But sometimes, power didn’t give its wielders a choice. If Illium ascended . . .
No, she wouldn’t think about that. Her son would be torn apart by the forces of ascension should he rise too young. She could still remember how difficult it had been for Raphael—and he’d been a thousand years of age. She’d been terrified Caliane’s beloved boy would die, simply fragment into a million pieces from the power surging through his veins.
When he landed, his eyes had been blue fire, his skin crackling with lightning—and his wings ablaze in a way that had reminded her of Nadiel’s fiery fall. She’d been distant from the site of the battle where Caliane had executed her true love, but she’d seen Nadiel’s beautiful wings crumple, seen fire devour him as he fell—a star that had burned too bright and consumed itself.
7
On the small screen of the phone, her son spread his wings so she could see the progress of his healing. “Getting there,” he said. “In the meantime, I’m working on the ground. It keeps my muscles conditioned, and it also helps with wing strength because I’m constantly shifting those muscles when I lift or bend or turn.”
They spoke of other things in the time that followed, such things as might be spoken of between a mother and her son. At one point, she said, “How is Aodhan?” Illium’s best friend had been so often in their house as a child that she felt entitled to maternal worry.
Illium scowled. “Fine.”
Sharine, once out of the last vestiges of the fog in which she’d lived for so long, had sensed a visceral change in the relationship between her boy and his friend; she wondered if she should say something.
Friendships so deep were rare in an angel’s lifetime and should be cherished. Anger and bitterness could destroy that which was most precious. But, she remembered, even as they fought, they looked out for each other. The two had too many years of friendship and loyalty between them to allow it to shatter—but she would keep an eye on both, ensure stubbornness didn’t get the better of them.
“Give him greetings from me and tell him of this number. I would speak to him, too.”
“I will,” Illium promised, though he was still scowling. “You’ll be careful, Mother.” It was an order, a quiet one but an order nonetheless.
She allowed it, for she knew it was reflex after so many centuries of having to care for her, of having to be the parent. There was so much she’d missed of her son’s life, so much of his pain that she didn’t understand. Never again would she let him down.
“I promise to take every care,” she told him, her heart an ache. “I realize I’m going to be dealing with dangerous creatures in Titus’s territory.” The last thing already worn warriors needed was distraction in the form of watching out for a senseless angel. “You will use this device again to speak with me?”
“I’ll call.” He grinned, a glint in his eye. “I wonder how Titus will deal with you.”
“He is an archangel and I am an old and experienced angel who can assist him. We’ll work well together.”
Her son’s laugh held a glee that had her narrowing her eyes, but she allowed him his mischief, deeply content to see joy fill him to the brim once more.
* * *
*
Sharine saw nothing much of note in the first hour that she flew beyond Lumia. That wasn’t surprising—though Lumia’s lands stopped well before the hour mark, her troops flew that far regularly to stay in fighting shape and maintain their endurance.
In the ordinary scheme of things, they knew never to interfere with Charisemnon’s people, but Sharine had made the decision to breach that rule when the reborn began to spread across Africa—she’d ordered her warriors to quietly eliminate any reborn threats they saw. The shambling creatures who’d reached this far north had been small in number and soon dispatched.
Charisemnon had been too focused on his battle with Titus to pay attention.
The true scars appeared a half hour or so beyond that perimeter. A small village lay half in ruins, a large central area burned to blackened beams and collapsed roofs. Wanting to understand what had taken place there, she did a careful circle above the dead silence to ensure she wasn’t dropping down into danger.
Only when she was certain she saw no movement, no indication of anything living below, did she come down in the center of the long, wide road that seemed to be the heart of the village. Her position gave her an excellent view in all directions; she’d rapidly spot any reborn who might be scuttling toward her.
However, the only things moving in the charred landscape were pieces of fabric that might’ve once been curtains, tiny flags in the light wind. Perhaps this village had fallen prey to the battle between the two archangels. But no, that could not be. The fighting had taken place far from here, near what had been the north/south border.
Nalini Singh's Books
- A Madness of Sunshine
- Wolf Rain (Psy-Changeling Trinity #3)
- Archangel's Prophecy (Guild Hunter #11)
- Rebel Hard (Hard Play #2)
- Night Shift (Kate Daniels #6.5)
- Archangel's Blade (Guild Hunter #4)
- Nalini Singh
- Archangel's Consort (Guild Hunter #3)
- Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)
- Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter #7)