Angel Bonds

by Lexi C. Foss

  Issac raised a brow, waiting for Henry’s next test.

  He would pass.

  There was no other outcome in regard to his Astasiya. Mine.

  “I’ve read about you.”

  “I’m sure you have, Henry. Astasiya did, too, when we first met.” He purposely smiled at her, recalling a conversation they once had about how he never grinned in photographs.

  Her lips curled as she shook her head. “He’s not the man portrayed in those tabloids, Dad.”

  “I’m starting to see that.” He looked Issac up and down. “I’d like to continue seeing that.”

  “I’ll answer anything you want,” he replied. “Consider me an open book.” Within reason, of course. He couldn’t exactly come clean about his Ichorian roots.

  Henry nodded, seemingly satisfied for the moment. “Help me unload the rest of the groceries.”

  “Uh, there are none,” Thomas interjected, gesturing to the bags littering the counters.

  “You carried them all?” Henry’s eyes were wide.

  Thomas merely shrugged. “I’m young. Strong. Long arms.”

  Susan admired said arms, causing Astasiya to push away from the table. “Yeah, so, Issac, weren’t you going to show me the grounds?”

  “I was.” A lie, as they had no such plans, but playing along came naturally to him. “Are you ready now?”

  “Yes, please.” She held out her hand and he gladly accepted, pulling her to his side to kiss her cheek. So warm and soft. Perfect. His Aya. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

  She started walking, her boot-clad feet moving quickly over the marble tile of the extravagant kitchen. The table they’d been sitting at was really more of an island made of granite, but it was large enough to seat ten. A fascinatingly modern style that Issac enjoyed. He might have to remodel his own kitchen to match, then use the dining space for something else. An extended entertaining area, perhaps?

  “You have a weird look in your eye,” Aya murmured as they exited onto the main-floor balcony. It was cleared of snow and ice, a task that was completed before their arrival, and thankfully the weather had remained otherwise dry. And cold.

  “Just thinking about my other properties. I like the layout of the kitchen.”

  She raised her brows as they descended the stairs. “Really?”

  “You don’t approve?”

  “No, I mean, I’m surprised you’re thinking about home remodeling now, of all times.”

  “What else would I consider?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, the fact that my father just tried to demand we marry each other?”

  He chuckled. “Henry doesn’t frighten me, darling.” Now Sethios, if he proved to be her birth parent, might. Maybe. He frowned. What would Sethios think of Issac dating his daughter?

  “Okay, now you look worried,” Aya said, reaching the bottom deck.

  “Just considering how I would handle Sethios if he tried to play the protective-parent card.”

  She stopped walking, her skin paling. “Do you think…?” She swallowed. “Do you think he would?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It would be interesting.”

  “Interesting bad? Or interesting good?”

  Bad. Definitely bad. “We’ll cross that bridge when we reach it.” He pulled her into a kiss, brushing his lips against her temple. “If we concern ourselves with all the what-ifs in this life, we’ll never be able to enjoy the moment. I say we push it all away and just be.”

  Her green eyes held his for a long moment, her lips curling. “I think I like that.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” A full smile blossomed on her face, a devious twinkle tinting her irises. That was an expression he liked on her. Very much. “Live in the moment, right?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  She pushed him away and darted off into the snowy grass, her blonde hair trailing behind her as he watched.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To live in the moment!” she called back to him, disappearing into the trees.

  He started after her, bewildered by her antics. “Aya, I—” A ball slammed into his face, cutting off his words. It was cold and fluffy. “Did you just throw a snowball at me?”

  Her responding laugh touched his heart.

  Thud.

  This attack came from the left and was a significantly harder throw.

  Balthazar.

  Fucking prat, Issac thought at him as he flicked the ice off his shoulder.

  “Hey!” Astasiya returned fire at the smirking jackass. “That was a cheap shot, B.”

  Balthazar dodged her snowball with a chuckle. “You nailed him in the face while he was midsentence.”

  “Yeah, but I’m allowed to do that.” She was already making another one.

  Jacque appeared behind her with a bucket and dumped it over her head. Fluffy white flakes stuck to her hair and blue sweater, giving her a winter appeal Issac found far too sexy.

  But he had to punish the teleporter for the cruel move.

  He engaged Jacque’s vision, sending him backward into the snow with a mental shove that had the Hydraian yelping.

  And he sent one to Balthazar for good measure as well.

  “Now who’s the prat?” the mind reader grumbled.

  “You use your gifts. I’ll use mine,” he replied as he moved to Aya’s side to help brush the snow from her shivering shoulders. “Are you all right?”

  “No, but I will be once we take them all down,” she murmured.

  “Are you suggesting we join forces, love?”

  “I am.” No hesitation, just pure confidence.

  “And who are we taking down?”

  “All of them.”

  He smiled, sensing several more players in the field, their sights on them. “Can you feel them all?”

  She nodded.

  “You and me against the world?”

  “Always.”

  “Always,” he agreed, feeling her power radiate around them. “Try not to show off too much, love. You know how much I adore your commands.”

  She smiled. “That sounds like a challenge I have to accept.”

  “I hope you do.” He tripped Balthazar with his mind, causing the snowball the mind reader intended to throw to go wide to the left. Issac turned to catch Lucian’s attack with his right hand. The powder exploded on impact, the snow here not meant for packing. But it would make for an entertaining game.

  Time to live in the moment.

  Because who knew what tomorrow would bring.

  8

  Gabriel

  “What are you doing, Ezekiel?”

  The dark-haired assassin didn’t flinch or outwardly react to Gabriel’s abrupt appearance; he merely squinted at the horde of immortals throwing snow at one another. “I’m watching Stas annihilate the competition. I daresay your sister is quite gifted in strategy, Stark.”

  Gabriel followed his gaze to the blonde in question, her face lit up in a way he hadn’t seen in quite some time. She turned just as Jacque teleported behind her. He dumped a bucket of snow all over himself while she laughed.

  “She’s certainly learning how to control her power,” he noted, somewhat impressed. “One of them, anyway.” Stas didn’t have a clue as to what she was capable of doing yet, her gifts only just now rising to the surface.

  “So it would seem.” Ezekiel smirked as Stas sent Lucian into a nearby snowbank with a mental command, her eyes glowing with power even from this distance. “She’s nowhere near ready for Osiris, though.”

  Gabriel nearly snorted. “Obviously.” She was a baby Seraphim, not even sprouting wings yet. But soon. “Why did you approach them yesterday?”

  “I knew you were spying on me.” Ezekiel tsked, his long hair waving as he shook his head. “If you missed me so much, you could just drop in to say hello.”

  “Hello,” Gabriel deadpanned. “Now answer the fucking question.”

  Ezekiel grinned, his eyes alight with amu
sement. “Humanity looks good on you, Stark.”

  Gabriel didn’t bite. Didn’t even comment, merely stared at him emotionlessly, knowing it was the best way to counter the assassin’s games.

  “Boring,” Ezekiel scoffed, returning his focus to the show down below.

  No one suspected them on the nearby roof, the Hydraians roaming the perimeter too untrained to catch a Seraphim and an ancient Ichorian. Not that the Guardians were completely useless. Most of them contained unspeakable power that could protect Stas in a heartbeat. Just not against her own flesh and blood.

  “If you must know, I decided to speed some insights along. They should have put Sethios’s presence at Osiris’s estate together by now, but of course, they hadn’t.”

  Gabriel agreed with him there. “How did they miss that element?”

  “Lizzie never mentioned it, her mind too preoccupied with the pregnancy. And they’ve not spoken much of Osiris’s statements regarding Stas’s birthright.”

  Gabriel had noticed that. “Any idea why they’ve avoided the topic?”

  “Because they believe Sethios is an Ichorian and Caro a mortal. They’ve completely missed the obvious truth before them.”

  “That my mother is a Seraphim.”

  “And that Osiris is one, too, making Sethios part Seraphim.” Ezekiel shook his head. “I’m not quite sure how to make this any more obvious for them.”

  “They’ll realize soon enough.” When his sister sprouted wings, likely.

  “You know, you could just tell her,” Ezekiel suggested for the thousandth time.

  “She’s not ready yet.”

  The assassin faced him again. “She turns twenty-five next week.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Perhaps you could be a good big brother and tell her how that’s going to go in advance?”

  “Why?”

  Ezekiel snorted. “Right. Of course. I’m dealing with an emotionally stunted Seraphim.” He crouched, his elbows resting on his knees. “She’s your sister. Some might say you owe her an explanation.”

  “I intend to give her one when she’s ready.”

  “So, I ask again—when will that be? Because I’m awfully tired of watching my best friend’s continuous torture.”

  “As I am tired of hearing my mother’s screams in my head, but we all do what is destined.” Gabriel’s feathers ruffled at his back, the cold air irritating his senses. Why anyone would choose to play in this weather, let alone live in it, was beyond him. He much preferred his quarters in the South Pacific. “What will you tell them tomorrow?”

  Ezekiel shrugged. “Whatever comes to mind. I’m sure they’ll ask me about Sethios.”

  “Will you give them the truth?”

  “To the extent that I’m allowed.” He glanced over his shoulder. “But don’t worry. The Seraphim facts I’ll save for you.” True annoyance underlined his tone, the gold flecks in his dark eyes burning in the sunlight.

  “You’re displeased with me.”

  “So you can discern emotion,” he murmured. “Fascinating.”

  “And now you’re being sarcastic.”

  “Bloody brilliant, you are.” Ezekiel smiled but it lacked warmth. “Do you have any idea what Osiris is doing to Sethios right now?”

  It couldn’t be worse than drowning over and over again beneath the water. “No.”

  “He’s attempting to force him to procreate again.”

  Gabriel’s brows furrowed. Sethios and Caro were forever bound. His body would never respond adequately to another. Not to mention, creating a Seraphim was a rare occurrence. “That’s an impractical task.”

  “No shit,” Ezekiel replied.

  “Then why bother?”

  Ezekiel gave him a hard look. “It’s a mindfuck, Stark. Osiris is compelling his son to fornicate—or try, anyway—which hurts enough with unwilling subjects. Couple that with Sethios’s inability to act on the persuasion, and it’s excruciating. And just when he’s about to break from the confusion and pain, Osiris allows him to remember Caro, which sends Sethios over the edge into insanity. His agony and screams are why I volunteered to watch Stas this week. I needed a break.”

  A foreign pang settled inside Gabriel’s chest, his heart reacting to an emotion tied to his family bond.

  Caro.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze falling to the woman he vowed to protect for a lifetime. “Stas is still not ready.” Not until her wings set. “But soon.” I hope.

  A small worry, one that had haunted him for years, itched to take root inside him, but he swallowed it.

  She will fly.

  She had to.

  “I’m sorry about Sethios,” Gabriel admitted. He was sorry about a lot of things.

  Ezekiel said nothing, his arms straining around his shins.

  “How is your Skye?” he wondered softly.

  “Do you really care?” Ezekiel returned. “We’re all in hell, and you’re the only one who holds the cards.”

  “She’s not ready,” Gabriel growled, irritated by the accusation that he was the reason the plan could not move forward. “She has to evolve.”

  “She looks pretty fucking evolved to me,” Ezekiel said, pointing to Stas as she glowed in the sunlight.

  Angelic.

  Ethereal.

  Corporeal.

  So close, but not quite.

  “I’ll return for an update later this week,” Gabriel said.

  “And do what in the interim?”

  “Watch Jonathan.” The CRF CEO was up to something but was not being all that forthcoming with information. After the fallout with Osiris over Elizabeth, he’d been quite determined to prove himself. “He’s planning something.”

  Ezekiel snorted. “That idiot should be put out of his misery.”

  “Yet, Osiris left him alive.”

  “Of course he did. He wants another Seraphim.” The assassin shook his head, standing again. “I need to find a proper Yule log.”

  “A what?”

  Ezekiel smiled. “Sometimes I forget how young you are, Stark. How about you walk with me while I explain the old Nordic custom and regale you with stories of a lifelong past, yeah?”

  “Why on earth would I want to do that?”

  “Because I asked you to. Because you owe me. And frankly, because I could use the distraction.” He stared at him. “It’s the least you could do after everything we’ve been through.”

  That last part rankled.

  Stark’s time around humans had changed him irrevocably. He felt things so differently now than thirty years ago. A part of him… cared.

  “You act as though you’re the only one who has made a sacrifice,” Gabriel replied softly, his gaze flicking to Stas again. “That you’re the only one hurting. I, too, feel pain, Ezekiel. More than you’ll ever realize.” He lived with it every day, the agony of his mother drowning over and over again, her soul deteriorating in his mind. “I left my home, everything I knew, and vowed to protect a woman who despises me.”

  He saw the hatred in Stas’s eyes every time she looked at him. She thought him a monster. And maybe she was right. He’d done horrible things under Jonathan’s rule, hurt countless people to escalate in the ranks, just so he could position himself in the right place to properly guard her.

  “We’ve all given up key pieces of ourselves for her,” he added softly. And even if he could, he wouldn’t take anything back or do it any other way. Just as he knew Sethios and Caro would feel the same. “Astasiya is the future.”

  Ezekiel followed his gaze, his lips curling slightly, the heaviness of their conversation giving way to a somber resolution. “I just wish that future could arrive faster.”

  “It’ll be here before you know it,” Gabriel replied, his blood humming with the coming of her age. “She’s nearly there.”

  As if sensing his presence, she whirled to face them, her eyes finding his. He went ethereal on instinct, his red feathers flaring in the daylight.

&n
bsp; She didn’t look away.

  Her eyes holding.

  And then she fainted.

  “Yes,” he whispered to Ezekiel on the wind. “Soon.”

  Because she’d seen him in his Seraphim state, just for a moment, the power of it rendering her unconscious.

  That was why she wasn’t ready yet—her mind was unable to process the truth. But every day they grew closer to the inevitable.

  Her wings would be here before she knew it.

  See you soon, little sister.

  9

  Issac

  Issac ran his fingers through his hair and expelled a long breath as he sat beside the man he considered his father.

  Astasiya was in the main room with Susan and Henry, reminiscing over the fire. He’d left her to it, knowing she needed as much time with them as possible. The years would pass so much differently for her now, something she would begin to understand in a decade or so.

  Aidan poured a fresh glass of brandy and handed it to Issac. “How’s she feeling?”

  He took a long swallow, his throat craving the burn. “That’s an excellent question, one she seems to be avoiding.”

  She’d lost consciousness while playing in the snow and came to with no recollection of what had caused it. Of course, she’d brushed it off, saying she was fine, but Issac knew better.

  “Aya’s been seeing things, possibly visions of her past she didn’t know existed.” Issac paused to evaluate how he wanted to word this. He didn’t want to break Astasiya’s confidence, but he also needed to give Aidan all the facts to surmise potential causes. If anyone would know, or have an inkling of what might be happening to her, it would be his maker.

  “I think she saw something outside—another vision—which knocked her out. She doesn’t remember the details this time, but she believes someone may have altered her childhood memories.”

  He continued by recounting their conversation from earlier this morning, including all the pertinent details and their speculations. As well as his own personal theories.

  “Osiris being Sethios’s birth father.” Aidan scratched his blond stubble. “That’s an intriguing notion. I don’t recall him mentioning a biological son in our younger years, although I didn’t spend much time around him then. I ventured north while he stayed in the south. It would explain Stas’s gift for persuasion.”