Archangel's War (Guild Hunter #12) - Nalini Singh Page 0,98

picked up and kissed my mother with this bold hunger that made her smile and blush, told me to be courageous and to explore like a warrior.”

He flexed his fingers, curled them in again to bloodless tightness. “But he broke my mother with his selfishness, and I’ll never forgive him for that.”

“Your mother is a gift.” A being lovely and unique and old. “Whatever he did, he didn’t steal her soul.”

But Illium shook his head. “You’ve only ever met this Hummingbird.” Such sorrow in his words. “My mother used to be so young, Ellie. She had me when she was many eons old, but I never felt as if I’d been birthed at the twilight of her life.”

A haunted smile. “She’d play hide-and-seek with me through the Refuge, and when Aodhan and I got in trouble, she’d discipline us with the sternest expression, then hug and kiss us when we got sad.

“We’d make sweets together. We’d throw paint at canvases just to see which patterns emerged. We’d sneak into the Library at night to read by candlelight. She used to dance to any music that was in the air, this vibrant sprite that I’d sit and watch.”

Elena couldn’t imagine Illium’s mother doing any of those things. The angel she knew was a luminous talent, an artist revered and cherished, but she was also ethereal, existing in her own world. Often, she didn’t seem to remember that Illium was an adult, instead treating him as the boy he’d once been. But Sharine wasn’t mad, not in any sense of the word as the world used it.

She was, as Illium had said, broken. No, fractured was the better word. Cracks in her psyche, cracks in her emotions, her sense of self damaged. That didn’t stop her from being well-respected and, as she’d shown since being appointed to her present duty, she had the self-possession, intelligence, and sheer kindness to take over a place traumatized by evil.

“That he’s risen now, when my mother is coming into her own again?” Illium ground his teeth. “I will kill him if he damages her a second time. I swear it . . .” Flat, deadly words that allowed no room for doubt.

* * *

• • •

Raphael knew Elena was vulnerable away from him, but he also knew Illium would lay down his life for her—and he was an angel very few in the world could defeat. Most of those who could defeat him were preoccupied with the catastrophic emergence of three extra Ancients on top of Lijuan’s return. If they were lucky, no one would even notice Elena’s absence.

Around him, the Cadre meeting continued on unabated.

He’d held his silence since soon after the start. First, he’d given Aegaeon and Antonicus time to stop complaining about being so summarily woken, then he’d given the rest of the Cadre time to announce that no one was about to seize their territory from them. Zanaya’d had an amused smile on her face throughout, her contributions to the discussion cleverly designed verbal grenades.

At this moment, his mother was updating the new Ancients on the central events of this Cascade.

“Are you saying this Lijuan believes she is better than us?” Aegaeon snorted. “Show her to me and she will soon lose that belief.”

Titus was having none of it. He slammed down his staff; the resulting percussive thunder succeeded in claiming everyone’s attention. “Before you make rash promises, perhaps you should watch the recording made by Neha’s people.” He initiated a replay of the black fog that swathed China.

Antonicus had not paid much attention while Raphael was viewing it, now watched with engrossed concentration. To Zanaya and Aegaeon, it appeared new.

“She is the Archangel of Death.” Zanaya’s features held a repulsion that made her starlight eyes flow into obsidian. “I see this now.” She turned to Antonicus and Aegaeon. “Do you not see?” It was a demand. “We wake before our time to take care of this menace. We are not meant to live in this world. It is not our time.”

Raphael felt a reluctant liking for the Ancient. She might delight in stirring the pot, but she also saw with more clarity and less arrogance than most of the Cadre.

“Why would the Cascade do this?” Michaela’s cheekbones sliced against her skin. “Why give us a way to defeat Lijuan?”

“Because the Cascade wants chaos,” Raphael said, repeating words the Legion had dredged from the depths of memory so old that it began before the birth of mortals. “There is no chaos in