Archangel's Sun (Guild Hunter #13) - Nalini Singh Page 0,56

caught the light with every shift in the wind, every angling of her wings. The silken black tipped with natural gold—a gold that glittered here and there elsewhere in the strands—was astonishingly beautiful. As beautiful as her wings. No one in the world looked like Sharine. But it wasn’t a question of beauty, either. Many, many angels were strikingly beautiful, as were an equal number of vampires.

Plenty of women in his court could stand next to Sharine and not be deemed her lesser in beauty. Yet Sharine would shine regardless. She had in her a radiant light that drew others—the same rare light existed in her son. And Titus had a soft spot for young Illium. The youth was a little reckless at times, but Titus hadn’t exactly been less so as a youth.

The most important thing was that as Titus had been loyal to Alexander, Illium was loyal to Raphael. He was also a warrior who fought with fierce intelligence, the reason why he was a squadron commander. And wherever he went, the blue-winged angel drew others, the flame inside him a bright, beautiful thing.

That flame had come from his mother. It certainly hadn’t come from Aegaeon.

He growled deep in his chest, wanting to smash that hind end of an ass into paste, but sadly, his hands were tied on that score. Firstly, Charo would never forgive him for bringing up the pain of the babe she’d lost in the aftermath of Aegaeon’s heartless rejection, and secondly, the world needed every archangel it could get.

It was the latter thought that reminded him of a question he’d intended to ask—or perhaps he just wanted an excuse to talk to Sharine. “Have you had any word from Suyin’s court beyond the reports she herself has made to the Cadre?” The newest archangel in the world had been scrupulous in making those reports, conscious that everyone else needed to know how she was dealing with the devastation in her territory.

They’d all been honest in that way, and where possible, they assisted one another. Titus, for one, had used his Cascade-born ability to create a deep gorge between his territory and Alexander’s so no one could cross over on foot. While Alexander was known as the Archangel of Persia, his territory actually began on the other side of the isthmus that had connected Africa to Asia until Titus shattered the link using his power.

The lack of a land bridge meant the two of them didn’t have to worry about incursions from the other side, and could concern themselves with the dangers already present in their territory.

In time, their two peoples would find a way to traverse the divide, but for now, the only way to get from one side to the other was to fly or go by the sea. Neither of which the reborn could do—thankfully, the horror of Lijuan’s black-eyed and dead angelic fighters had ended with her, her energy the only thing that had kept them functioning in a nightmare simulacrum of life.

The reborn infection couldn’t take hold in angelic blood.

Streaks of green-black on stone, in the shape of dragging wings.

Gut cold at the memory of what he’d seen in Charisemnon’s stronghold, Titus hoped he’d been wrong, that the pattern had been something other—perhaps two vampiric reborn crawling away together. Because if the sky, too, became a place of war against Lijuan’s voracious “children” . . .

“I assume you’re asking about Suyin because of Aodhan?”

“He’s your son’s great friend.” The warrior-artist was also currently seconded to Suyin.

“He’s also loyal to the archangel to whom he has been seconded,” was the quelling reply. “Though it’s only a temporary position, he treats it with all honor.”

“I’d expect nothing less of one of Raphael’s Seven.” The pup who’d once been a stripling in Titus’s army as Titus had been in Alexander’s had done well to surround himself with such loyalty—and that extended to his consort.

A pang in his heart, powerful and deep.

Every so often, Titus looked at Elena and Raphael, as well as Elijah and Hannah, and wondered what it might be like to have a consort who’d walk with him through the ages of immortality. He’d never, however, come close to forging that deep a bond with any woman.

Some might say he was a true son of his mother’s blood, that he’d never settle, and maybe that was so . . . but Phenie was also of Avelina’s blood, and she’d been with her lover for two millennia and counting. Even Charo,