Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,79
her hand to the glass. “I hope she’s found a semblance of peace.”
The wind swirled around them, the snow rising. The owls took off in a silent burst, while Raphael and Elena stood in watchful quiet. Elena held her breath, not sure what she wanted. The last time Cassandra had risen, it had nearly meant the end of her world. Yet when it counted, the Ancient haunted by visions of the future had come through. She’d helped Elena—and she might’ve helped Favashi.
But the wind calmed as swiftly as it had risen, leaving only flecks of snow stuck to Elena’s winter-weight leather jacket. “Nope, that wasn’t great for the blood pressure.”
“A moment, hbeebti.” Stepping back so he wouldn’t buffet her, Raphael took flight. She watched as he swept over the former lava sinkhole from high above, the owls circling with him. See anything?
Yes. Come.
She rose to join him. Her heart tightened. Drawn in the snow was the body of a huge white owl, its wings spread wide. “She’s still partially awake.” Enough to know they had come to see her. Enough to reply. “Should we increase patrols?”
“There is no need.” He nodded at the owls who’d dipped lower, closer to their mistress. “If there comes a day when her owls leave you, we will know.”
“Yes.” The beautiful creatures were borrowed treasures, lent to her by an Ancient who had seen her birth millennia ago. “It’s not good that she’s still half awake, is it?”
“We all agree that Lijuan is also partially awake, so the Cascade energies may be disrupting their Sleep.”
Cold fingers on Elena’s spine. “Let’s hope they’re the only two Sleepers affected.”
* * *
• • •
That hope was dashed two hours later, when Astaad convened an emergency session of the Cadre. Raphael had dressed quickly for the meeting, while Elena sat out of shot naked but for the blanket she’d wrapped around her body.
The Cadre responded within a matter of two minutes—surprisingly enough, Michaela’s face was among them. Her razor-sharp beauty took center stage, but Raphael saw the lack of color under the skin, the slight puffiness around the eyes. If anyone else noticed, they’d put it down to having been woken out of a sound sleep.
The world had forgotten that Michaela had once been a mother; no one thought of her as maternal. He hoped for the sake of her babe that continued to hold true. Not everyone was a fan of the Archangel of Budapest and attacking her while she was weak could be a temptation.
“I hope you have a good reason for this,” she muttered now, her words knife blades sinking into unguarded flesh. “Emergency calls are not to be made lightly.”
Astaad had on a rumpled tunic, his hair windswept. “You must all see this.”
His feed altered to show a turquoise blue ocean under a Pacific sun; that ocean was choppy, the water foamy. From the jerkiness of the image, one of Astaad’s people must be flying overhead with a recording and transmitting device. As they watched, the foaming of the water turned into a whirlpool so powerful that Raphael hoped the angel involved was high enough up not to get caught in its drag.
“Astaad, my desert territory is currently suffering its twentieth ice storm.” Alexander pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, his words clipped. “Such a phenomenon is not reason enough to—”
“There!”
Raphael’s entire body stopped moving. Because the water had just erupted up and outward, and Astaad had frozen the image.
Archangel, am I seeing things or is the water spout in the shape of a face?
His gut tensed as he recognized that face. You are not imagining it.
Water god?
Just an archangel of arrogance. Mortals have called him by many names over time, but he is said to prefer Aegaeon.
You sound like you know him.
He took a short sojourn from his Sleep during my lifetime. All of the Cadre here but for my mother would’ve met him at that time—and she is likely to have known him during another waking.
“How long has this been going on?” Neha, her hair unbound and held back with jeweled clips, but her body clad in warrior’s leathers as she stood in a room with rough redstone walls.
“Three or so hours, but initially, I thought it a weather phenomenon as suffered by Alexander.”
“My apologies, Astaad,” Alexander said, the edge in his tone different this time. “Aegaeon went to Sleep roughly a century before I did. I had forgotten his penchant for drama.”