Page 103 of Archangel’s Lineage

“This is who I am,” he found himself adding, to this woman he barely knew... and wanted to know so much better. “It’s important to me that I be here, do what I can.”

“I know that,” she replied, and once again, he had no idea how to read her tone. “Return to your work.”

The call ended.

Exhaling, he wondered if her response meant he’d pissed her off. He couldn’t tell, didn’t know her well enough yet. But there was nothing he could do about it, so after walking off enough of the cramp that it wasn’t debilitating—though he knew the affected muscles would continue to ache like a bitch for hours—he got back to juggling a hundred urgent balls at once.

When Izak walked in with a package half an hour later, he nodded at the young angel to leave it on a clear section of his circular desk. “Thanks,” he muttered absently.

“Um, Lady Katrina was very firm that it was to be hand-delivered to you, and that I had to stay here until you opened it and confirmed it had arrived safely.”

Fire under his skin, Vivek spun around in his seat. “Why is she commanding you like a courier?”

Blushing, Izak lifted his shoulders in a shrug, the arches of his wings a rich cream that Vivek knew was speckled with deep blue lower down. “I mean, she’s not the kind of lady you say no to—she waved me down outside her establishment, and, well... here I am.”

Jeez, the kid was green. “Don’t even think about going into that establishment,” Vivek ordered as he grabbed what he realized wasn’t a box at all, but a discreet gray insulated cooler.

“I can’t anyway.” Izak moped. “She has an entry age of three hundred for angels.”

Vivek grinned. “Right, of course she does.” Katrina wouldn’t want to be in the business of rescuing baby angels.

“It’s not fair when she doesn’t have any limit for vampires who’ve completed their century of service.” A glare. “Hey! Why do you know her or anything about her place when you’re nowhere near a hundred?”

“Vampires are already adults when they’re Made—and I’m a unicorn.”

“Ugh.” Izak rolled his eyes.

Vivek opened the cooler but kept his eyes on Izzy. “I’ve opened it. No damage.”

“What did she send?” Izak tried to arch his neck to look over the side of the desk.

“None of your damn business, baby angel.” He pointed to the door. “Out, or I’ll volunteer you to Nisia for infirmary duty.”

Shuddering, Izak hotfooted it out of there. It wasn’t that he lacked kindness or empathy. It was that the kid had spent way too long in the infirmary when he’d lost his legs and broken nearly all of the remaining bones in his body. Vivek got the aversion—and was the reason why Izzy never ended up doing infirmary duty even though most young angels pulled time there.

Nisia, the senior healer, was well aware of the reason behind Izzy’s conspicuous absence—and she’d made sure to give Izzy the field first aid lessons he needed away from the place he so hated.

“I wouldn’t normally countenance this kind of avoidance,” she’d said to Vivek one day when he’d been in there for various tests, “but he’s too young to have spent the amount of time he has in the infirmary. It has left scars.”

“Trust me,” Vivek had gritted out as he flexed his bad leg in the way she’d asked him to so she could measure his progress, “I understand the kid.”

The healer hadn’t made one of her trademark sardonic comments; instead, she’d said, “Izzy is lucky to have a friend like you. Many in angelkind have no true understanding of what it is not to have your body behave as you wish it to behave.

“It doesn’t matter that they are often those with soft lives—not lives that put them in danger of losing limbs or wings, or even their very existence. Their talk can nonetheless cause harm to a vulnerable young heart.”

She’d allowed him to relax his leg and, while he’d massaged it in the aftermath, had added, “He’s safe in the Tower because he is the youngest of the angels, and treated much as a younger sibling by the vast majority of people. You do the same.” A faint smile. “But you’re also an example of a strong, powerful member of an archangel’s innermost team who shares his aversion. The knowledge is a shield for him against less tolerant members of angelic society.”

Now, smiling at the thought of Katrina imperiously waving Izzy down like he wasn’t an angel assigned to the Tower, he looked into the cooler to find a small bottle of blood, an enormous pack of the small chewable sweets that he could still ingest even with his vampiric anatomy, and a bottle of salve on which was taped a note that read: Put this on to ease your leg. The old ways are ofttimes yet the best.

Rolling up his pant leg, he did as ordered. The scent that came from the salve was a rich, bright green. But the cool of it soon bloomed into a warmth that felt like heaven. He gave himself a moment to appreciate it before putting the salve safely back in the cooler, and quickly taking a drink from the bottle of blood.

Dark orchids and musk and secrets.

She hit him like a drug, dangerous feminine power and a luscious sensuality.

His cock went rock hard, his pulse racing.

Shuddering and kicking himself for that first gulp that had emptied a third of her gift, he put the bottle by the side of his desk in a safe spot and promised himself a sip every ten minutes. He’d make it last as long as he could.

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