Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,100

so fragile, Ellie.” Muscles hard as rock, he said, “I long-ago ceased to have any hopes of my father, but she’s been waiting for him all this time.”

He spread out his wings. “I would delay this forever, but I can’t. My mother deserves to know.”

The village was just stirring after the languid time following lunch when they reached it, the merchants reopening their stalls and shops, while neighbors stood talking with steaming cups in hand. Mint tea perhaps. Or coffee so strong it was a kick to the system. But the most welcome sight was in the distance, on the flat roof of a dual-level house not dissimilar to others in the village except that its balconies had no railings.

Light broke on the glittering hue of the angel’s hair—as if each strand was encrusted with diamonds. It caressed the warmth of his skin. Such flawless pale skin, but one with an inner glow that made it clear he was flesh and blood, not a statue. And his wings . . . each filament of each feather appeared a jeweled construction.

To look at him was to think of light and beauty and a sense of innate distance.

All were true.

“Aodhan.” Illium’s voice was choked. “What’s he doing here?”

Not answering, Elena flew toward Aodhan with a smile. She landed first because Illium was lagging—on purpose. Elena could never outpace him, not on any planet. “Sparkle.” She held out her hands.

Aodhan was okay with her touch now, but she never took it for granted. Today, he didn’t scowl at her for using that nickname, just closed his hands over hers while meeting her gaze with the extraordinary beauty of his own. A black pupil with shards of crystalline blue-green breaking outward from it. “How is he?”

“Angry,” she said as Illium took his time descending. “Worried about the Hummingbird.”

Illium landed beside Elena before Aodhan could reply. His face, with its clean lines and warm gold skin, was set, unwelcoming. “Why are you here? You should be in the Refuge helping Galen and Naasir.” He held his body with such fierce control that it hurt Elena to witness.

Aodhan walked over to his best friend without a word, hauled him into an embrace, one of his hands cradling the back of Illium’s head, his other arm locked around Illium’s shoulders. As if he had never shunned touch, never turned away from even the angel he most trusted.

Illium remained stiff, his wings folded tight to his back, but Aodhan was having none of it. He wrapped Illium up in his own wings and Elena was close enough to hear him say, “I am here for you,” in a tone as unbending as stone.

But Illium hadn’t thawed in the least when Aodhan released him. “I have to speak to my mother before—”

The Hummingbird walked out through the wide doorway onto the roof, her hair a river of gold-tipped black down her back and her wings a startling indigo dusted with shimmers of a shade so pale it was kin to sunlight.

The champagne of her eyes softened into pure sunshine when she caught sight of Illium. “I believed I was imagining my heart’s ache; it only ever does so when I am close to you. My baby.” She glided across the roof, the airy lightness of her pale yellow gown a silent testament to her grace.

At only five feet tall, she was the smallest person on this roof, but she was radiant.

Reaching Illium, she raised a delicate hand to his cheek. He bent instinctively to make it easier for her, this tall and strong angel who towered over his mother. “Yes, it’s you.” Joy so deep it cut at Elena.

After a moment, she turned toward Aodhan with a smile as luminous and happy. “And my borrowed baby.”

Elena held her breath but Aodhan bent his head the same way Illium had done. Elena saw no tension in his body, no indication of discomfort with the Hummingbird’s touch. Illium’s mother looked at him with the same maternal love she’d done Illium.

“Is he getting you in trouble again?” A smile that was starlight. “Always, I knew he was the instigator. But you would never admit it, adamant that you receive equal punishment. My babies, grown so strong and tall.”

Elena frowned; there was something different about the Hummingbird today. She was speaking of the past in past tense. It wasn’t a given with this lovely woman. Her sense of time had fractured long ago, and often, she switched back and forth, sometimes believing that