Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13) - Nalini Singh Page 0,110
if Titus had noticed the infant’s eyes yet, if he’d realized the import, she said, “Turn the little one over.”
Titus said nothing, but his big hands were careful as he turned the baby so that her back was exposed; Titus made sure to support the child’s head. It took only a splash of water to clear away enough of the slime to reveal wings. The translucent and soft wings of an angelic child, with no deformity or malformation. She took care as she cleaned all of the slime off those wings, then the rest of the child’s body.
The babe’s skin was a dark gold that echoed her father’s. It had been impossible to see the original hue of her mother’s skin under the reborn rot, but it had probably been similar to Charisemnon’s for the child to so closely echo the shade.
Only once the child had no trace of slime on its tiny body did she pick up the biggest towel and spread it out on the counter so Titus could place the child on it. With the still eerily silent little one lying on her back, she began to wipe down her skin. She kept her touch gentle, patting the water from her skin rather than rubbing. “See if you can find some powder. It’ll help her skin after all it’s been through.”
Titus hesitated.
“She can’t do anything to me, Titus. She doesn’t have any teeth, far less any claws.”
He left at last.
In the interim, Sharine picked up and rocked the child in her arms. “What are you, little one?”
The baby hiccupped . . . then, throwing back her head, wailed. Wailed as if she was being beaten, as if the world had done her the greatest insult.
“At least she has a strong voice,” Titus said in an approving tone as he walked in with several canisters of powder in hand. “I didn’t know which was the right one.”
“Hush, my sweet,” Sharine murmured, rocking the child—to no avail. Her face turned red under the gold of her skin, her sobs jerky in between the wails.
“Hah, she is stubborn. Give her to me.”
Placing the baby’s tiny body against his shoulder, Titus patted her back with firm motions that didn’t rub or otherwise abrade her fragile wings. A slew of hiccups before the wailing trailed off. “See?” Titus beamed proudly. “It’s not difficult.”
Sharine felt her lips twitch. He’d be insufferable if not for the sheer adorableness of this picture. And she couldn’t blame the babe for snuggling against him. Were Sharine in the mood to snuggle into any man, Titus’s broad shoulder would be at the top of the list. “I see you’ve done this before.”
“Many children call my court home.”
Once the child’s eyes had closed, her little form in a snuffling sleep, Titus laid her down on the towel again and Sharine put the powder on her. She massaged those little limbs as she did so, in the same way another mother had shown her to do with Illium when he’d been a babe.
The child was still fast asleep by the time she finished, and Sharine gathered her up in a soft new towel in lieu of a blanket before carrying her out. She knew the child couldn’t understand anything she might see, but she made sure to keep the little one’s face turned away from her mother’s already decaying body.
The reborn angel had melted in the time they’d been in the bathroom. Greenish fluid leaked from her every pore, and right then, her fingers degloved to bone, her flesh plopping to the floor.
“I wish you peace, child,” Sharine said before she walked out of the room.
Titus followed, pulling the door shut behind them. “I’ll leave the body instead of incinerating it.” No smile now, his features grim. “I need to call our scientists so they can begin the tests.”
“You’ll have to tell the Cadre about her, won’t you?” Sharine said, her arms protective around the child. “You know they’ll consider her a threat.”
“She could mean death for every angelic child,” Titus said gently. “But we will give her a chance. I’ll ask my scientists to test her blood against the infection and see if she carries within her a cure . . . or if she is a sweet-faced carrier, designed to slip under our guard.”
Sharine didn’t resist when he plucked the child from her arms. Holding the tiny body in one arm, he sighed. “She’s his child.”
So he’d noticed the eyes after all. “Yes. Does that make a difference?”