Aodhan had seen him do the same thing in a mocking way, but today, it was very serious, a show of respect for this archangel who had in her as much empathy as power.
Suyin’s face softened further. I see again why he is so dear to you, Aodhan.
Aloud, she said, “You are a light in this dark world, Illium.” She held out her hand, and Illium took it as he rose. “I’m glad to know you, glad to learn from you.”
When Illium tilted his head in a wordless question, she said, “You are a power. I see it. We all do. Arza tells me that the Cadre has watched you since long before the Cascade, for you were a power even as a boy.
“And yet you hold on to your sense of self with a ferocity that defies even the Ancient who is your father. You do not buckle under the weight of eternity.” She released his hand, but held his gaze. “You show me a different path—and it is a path I will endeavor to follow.”
A flush of color on Illium’s cheeks. “You honor me, Archangel Suyin.”
“Just Suyin to you, Bluebell. You saved my life in battle and it is an act of courage I will never forget.” With that, she glanced over to where Jinhai slept in the sling. “I will go now, so I can return soon to my people. It won’t be an easy transition for the poor child, but nothing is easy in this land right now. But he will have light, and when he has healed, he will have the sky.”
Aodhan looked up as she rose into the air, a slim and lovely angel with more steel in her than the world saw. He wasn’t sure Suyin herself knew it, not fully. She, too, after all, had spent time as a prisoner and it had marked her.
“I like her.” Illium sounded reluctant. “Not because of the compliment.” He blushed again, kicking at the snow. “I’ve always liked her, I suppose. But seeing her here, in her archangel skin, the weight of all that’s happened on her shoulders . . . I see why you respect her so much.”
Aodhan’s lips curved as he took in his friend’s face. It continued to hold a touch of suspicion engendered by his possessive heart, but intermingled with that was admiration.
“There, Blue,” he murmured. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
A scowl was his only reply before Illium took off, dusting Aodhan in a tempest of snow.
Laughing so hard that it caused Li Wei to look over at him with a startled grin on her face, he shook his head to dislodge the white, opened out his wings, and took off into the sky after his Blue.
They reached the caravan before darkfall, their presence more than welcome.
“Shall we stop for the night?” Vetra asked, and it was clear she was more than ready to hand the responsibility of being in charge to Aodhan. “We have another hour of light, but it’ll be pushing it.”
“I agree,” Aodhan said. “Slow and steady is the pace we want to maintain.”
This entire group had a long journey to make. Not because of distance—that could be covered by a well-maintained vehicle within two days, allowing for rest breaks for the driver. No, the trouble lay in the obstacles in their path—the dead patches, the eruptions of black fog, unexpected slips across the roads caused by the heavy snowfall.
Sunrise, and the vehicles crawled on. The winged cohort paced the ground cohort, on constant alert. Illium was the one who spotted the fog eruption some distance up ahead, in the dead center of their projected path.
Aodhan made the call to halt the caravan while he and the rest of the team found a workaround—a detour along their main alternate route at this point would mean going backward by several painstaking hours. Illium did multiple high-speed flights to confirm their less-preferred alternate route was clear.
“Damn he’s fast.” Anaya, a senior angelic commander, whistled when Illium took off into the winter-blue sky for the second time. “Also, hot. Do you know if he’s single?”
Aodhan stiffened. “You’ll have to ask him.” He was irritated by the question, though why he didn’t know—it wasn’t exactly a surprise. Illium had always had plenty of admirers, mortal and immortal. Kai, for one, was still making eyes at him, though Illium had been too busy to respond.
“Maybe I will.” A dazzling smile from the smart, funny woman who was just Illium’s type. “Who knows? Could be he’s feeling lonely out here far from his people.”
He’s not far from his people, Aodhan thought mutinously as she walked away, I’m here. Though he tried to put the small byplay out of his mind, he kept returning to gnaw on it. He wanted to slap himself for it, but he couldn’t stop and he didn’t understand why.
No romantic relationship, not even Illium’s love for Kaia, had ever impacted his friendship with Aodhan, so it wasn’t as if Aodhan was afraid of that. Or maybe he was. After all, they’d been on rocky ground this past year—and a lot of it was Aodhan’s fault. He knew it, admitted it.
He had no right to be in any way irritated by any romantic entanglement in which Illium chose to indulge.
That thought was firmly at the forefront of his mind when Illium returned from his latest sortie. “All clear,” his friend told him, before bending over with his hands on his thighs, his chest heaving and sweat dripping down his temples.
“You flew at maximum capacity.” Elsewise, Illium could leave everyone in his dust without effort.
“Yeah.” It came out a puff of air. “Figured the faster you had the info, the less chance of other fog hellholes opening up before the caravan gets past.” All of that spoken in short, staccato bursts.
Aodhan found himself touching the back of his hand to Illium’s cheek. “Thank you.”
A quick grin that melted the tension in Aodhan’s spine. What was he worried about? Him and Blue? Fighting or annoying one another or eating angry stew together, the two of them were stuck like glue.
But there was one thing he had to say, one apology he had to make. “Keir told me something when I first began to speak to him about Sachieri and Bathar.” He’d already mentioned his talks with the healer to Illium.
“Yeah?” Illium’s breathing was yet unsteady, but he’d straightened up, his hands braced against his hips.
“He warned me that I might one day strike out at the ones I love the most.” He held the aged gold of eyes that, to him, meant home, meant safety. “He said that it would be an unconscious thing, but that I’d choose them as targets because I knew they were safe, that they wouldn’t forswear me even when I was an ass.”
“Keir doesn’t use words like ass,” Illium said, but there was a slight tremor in his voice that had nothing to do with his breathlessness.
Aodhan ran the back of his hand over Illium’s cheek once more, ignored the small attempt at levity. “I forgot what he told me even as I struck out at the person who means more to me than anyone else.” Illium was the sun in his system, the person without whom nothing else functioned quite right. “I took advantage of your loyalty and generosity, and I’m sorry for that.”
“Shut up.” Illium swallowed hard. “I’m glad you felt safe enough with me to be utterly insufferable.”
“I’m still sorry.” He waited until Illium met his gaze. “Not for what I want or how I’ve changed, but for how I’ve hurt you by my actions—and by my silence.” He hadn’t used it as a weapon, but that didn’t alter that it had drawn blood. “I will never again do that.” A promise that was a vow. “I will never again lock you out.”
Blinking hard, Illium glanced away.
Aodhan moved close enough to take Illium’s chin in his hand, tug gently until his best friend in the world would look at him again. The gold shone with a sheen of wet, the same emotion rocks in Aodhan’s throat. “Always, Blue,” he said, his voice husky. “Me and you? We’re always.”
Their breaths mingled, the sounds of the world fading away, until it was just Aodhan and Illium, Adi and Blue, Sparkle and Bluebell. Then Illium gave a lopsided smile and their entire world righted itself.
Nothing more needed to be said. Not here.
Leaving Illium to recover, Aodhan told the rest of the team to prepare to shift toward the secondary alternate route. It only took them an hour to move out—quick when you considered the number of people and vehicles involved. Aodhan didn’t see Illium after that except at a distance, his friend doing his job as an advance scout, sleek and fast.
As for Anaya, she was busy with the rear guard.
A position to which Aodhan had shifted her prior to this flight. Nothing to do with Illium being out front. It just made logical sense.
* * *
* * *
Illium wasn’t scheduled to stand night guard when they made camp, as Aodhan needed him fresh for his scouting duties the minute day broke. It was just as well, because he was wiped. The unpredictable eruptions meant constant high-speed flights to find a clear route, and then relentless worry as people passed beneath.
In a smart move, Suyin and General Arzaleya had split the caravan into multiple small “pods” far enough apart from each other that one eruption wouldn’t take out a large chunk of the population. It slowed them down, but the tradeoff was worth it in terms of safety.
At one point, they’d ended up with the caravan split in two when an eruption occurred in between, and had to work out a route to bring them back together. So far they hadn’t lost a single pod, but everyone’s nerves were at a fraying point. It didn’t help that, given the persistent disruptions, they’d only made it halfway to their projected goal for today.
The only reason they could rest easy tonight was because Illium had located a patch of rocky ground on which to make camp. Not the most comfortable, but the one type of material—aside from bodies of water—that the fog didn’t seem to like. It was too bad there wasn’t enough of such ground to take them safely to the coast.
With Suyin and the general both gone, Aodhan had to be front and center, and would only catch a short rest break at some point during the night. He was plenty strong enough to handle it, but that didn’t stop Illium from worrying about him.
Not that he’d say that aloud. All those scouting runs alone? They’d given him time to think about everything Aodhan had said to him—especially when it came to that first big fight in Elena and Raphael’s Enclave home. Hard as it was for him to admit, he had jumped down Aodhan’s throat that night.
He’d never have reacted the same way had it been any other member of the Seven. The fear and rage he’d felt when Aodhan was taken, the agony of the aftermath, none of it gave him the right to treat Aodhan as . . . less.
His gorge roiled.
He’d never, not once, thought of Aodhan that way, but you’d never know it from his overprotective hovering. No wonder his best friend had been so angry with him. Aodhan had apologized for using Illium as a target for his anger, but Illium had apologies to make, too, and he would as soon as Aodhan had a free moment.
To distract himself for the time being—and because he was sweaty and filthy after the long day—he made his way a short distance from the camp and to a small but deep lake that hadn’t frozen over, most likely due to underground geothermal vents. While those vents had kept the water liquid, they hadn’t appreciably warmed it up.
Still, it had been cleared as safe, and angels were built for the cold. Everyone else was making do with wipes, or by warming up enough water for a rubdown in the privacy of their snow-resistant shelters.
The angels who’d decided to take advantage of the lake did so fully clothed. This wasn’t the time or the place to be caught with your pants down. Illium did take off his boots and stash them in a tree, but—if need be—he could fly and fight bootless.
That done, he shot up high into the sky before arrowing down to the lake. He didn’t splash as he went in, his body an aerodynamic blade that sliced deep, deep into the dark depths. The icy chill was welcome, its quiet embrace equally so.
He was feeling as good as his troubling thoughts would let him when he broke the surface and sleeked back his wet hair. Another angel swam lazily over from a short distance away. Anaya, that was her name. Her golden hair had gone dark in the water, her curvy body hidden beneath, and her face awash with admiration.
“Nice dive,” she murmured, a look in her eye that he could read all too well.
“Thanks.” He’d intended to do another dive, maybe swim, but now said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m under strict orders to eat and sleep.”
No insult in her expression at his rejection of her silent offer. “To be honest, I should do the same. But if you want to play when we’re not so stressed . . .”
Illium’s usual response to such invitations was a grin and a nod. He never made promises he didn’t intend to keep, but he also hated to hurt others when they’d made themselves vulnerable to him in such a way.
Today, however, he said, “Lovely as you are, Anaya, I find I’m no longer in the market for casual romps.” A truth; he hadn’t been compelled to share his sheets with anyone for some time. It just . . . didn’t feel right.
Anaya sighed. “Pretty and faithful.” Her smile said he was forgiven for not accepting her offer. “I hope your lover appreciates you.”
Parting from her on a friendly wave without correcting her misapprehension, he swam to shore to shake out his wings. Once out, he didn’t linger. He didn’t want to linger.
Not here.
After he’d retrieved and put on his boots, he flew back through a clear sky, his wet clothing ice in the winter cold. He still wasn’t sorry about the dip. He’d needed it. Quick change into his alternate set of clothing and he’d be fine.
He caught the lights of the camp well before he reached it. More, he caught the sparkle of Aodhan. His best friend sat alone beside a firepit, his seat what looked to be a fallen log, and his brow furrowed as he stared at his phone. Lips curving, Illium arrowed away from the firepit to land near the tent that held the supplies of angels who hadn’t yet put up a shelter for the night.
It took him only a couple of minutes to change—into jeans and a sweater of fine black wool designed to fit around his wings thanks to four sleek black zips. He had another set of leathers, but what the hell, the softer fabrics felt good on his skin right now—and the sweater was one of his favorites.
Dressed, he deposited his wet gear with the laundry team; they’d ensure it dried as they traveled—the trucks had been fitted with rooftop racks for just this purpose. Then he hit the small tent that held the food supplies for this quarter of the caravan. The vampire on duty handed him two warm buns filled with spiced meat.
“Seriously?” Illium said, his mouth already watering. “We’re cooking on the road?”
“You don’t know my great-great-great-great-great-grandchild,” the grumpy old vampire muttered, his mustache so big and fluffy that it was its own continent. “She’s not about to have a cold dinner when she can whip this up. Just be grateful I saved a few for the latecomers.”
“I’ll kiss her when I see her next.”
“She’ll paddle your behind for daring.”
Laughing, Illium accepted the buns, several protein bars, and two bottles of water, then somehow managed to carry it all to Aodhan.
Who was now full-on scowling at his phone.
48
“What?” Illium said. “An astronomical rise in the price of ultramarine blue?” He knew full well that was one of the hues Aodhan and his mother used when painting his wings. He even knew the two still, at times, made it the old way—from crushed lapis lazuli.
“Ha-ha.” Despite his morose tone, Aodhan took the food Illium held out, placing it on an upturned crate in front of him that had clearly been put there for just that purpose. “No, it’s a notice from the team Lady Caliane sent over to meet us on the coast—they’re gathering building supplies for the new citadel and associated city. Small hitch.”
Sliding away his phone as Illium managed to fit himself on the log, too, their wings overl
apping, he shook his head. “You don’t want to know more, trust me. It’s admin.” He picked up the bun, took a bite—and groaned in pleasure.
Illium’s blood warmed.
“Do you think Dmitri does admin?” Aodhan said after he’d swallowed that first bite. “I never thought of that part of being a second before I came here.”
Illium shrugged. “I think Dmitri has a finger in every possible pie when it comes to the Tower—but he’s been second for a long time. Our Dark Overlord’s got minions.” He demolished another quarter of his own bun. “You know that vampire, Greta? She hates people and mostly doesn’t talk to anyone, but she’s Dmitri’s right hand when it comes to admin stuff.”
“Her?” Aodhan stared at him. “You’re sure? She only grunts when I say hello.”
“I’ve seen her smile. Once.” Illium had been so shocked his mouth had legitimately fallen open. “I think she’s just ancient and can’t be bothered, but she enjoys the work, so she stays on.”
“How do you know about her?” Aodhan drank half a bottle of water.
“Because I talk to everyone.” In stark contrast to Greta, Illium liked people. “One time, I brought her a bottle of that fancy blood from Ellie’s café empire.” He would always find it hysterical that Ellie, one of the hunter-born, was the CEO of a thriving blood-café business. “She stared at it like it was a dead frog—looking over those half-glasses she wears.”
“Why does she wear those?” Aodhan muttered after swallowing the last bite of his bun. “Vampirism would’ve fixed any vision problems long ago.”
“Because she’s Greta.” Illium finished off his bun, drank some water. “Anyway, couple months after the dead-frog stare, my Tower apartment’s air-conditioning gets upgraded. No one else’s. Just mine. Moral of the story is: be nice to the admins.”
Aodhan chuckled, his shoulders brushing Illium’s as they sat side by side. “You’re all wet.” Reaching out, he ruffled Illium’s hair.
It should’ve felt friendly, joking, but their eyes met, and it was . . .
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