Page 11 of Archangel’s Lineage

There was talk of upgrading the system to a satellite-based one, but obviously people could see satellites, so it’d need to be attached to some other more obvious purpose. And none of that mattered as Elena undid the seal that told her the message had been taken by their senior steward, Yana, then handed to the young courier.

It was short and to the point: Elena, your father has suffered a serious heart attack. He’s in critical condition in the ICU. Your stepmother has requested you return home. The jet will be ready for you as soon as you can make it to the airfield.

Elena’s mind buzzed with silence, an echoing void that gave her the distance to make rapid-fire decisions. “Thank you,” she said to the boy who’d brought the message. “No return message yet.” She’d send it directly herself.

The boy nodded and stepped back to take off. Even so young, vertical flight was effortless for him; it was a wonder she’d never take for granted. But even as her panicked mind wanted to snag on the sight of an angel in flight, she was moving, her own throbbing wing thrust to the back of her awareness.

The first thing she did was find one of their senior people—it happened to be Naasir. His shaggy silver hair tied back, he was shirtless, his skin slick with sweat as he helped cart dangerous debris off to an area where it wouldn’t be a threat to the residents of the Refuge.

When she told him what had happened, he said, “Go. I’ll tell the others.”

Numb, she looked around at the devastation. “There’s so much to do here.”

“He is your father, Ellie. I would do the same if it were Dmitri or Honor hurt.” He tilted his chin at the sky. “We’re awash in strong angels who came for the ball. The physical work will be done in a matter of days and you’re puny anyway.”

She knew from the way he cupped her face with one big hand on that last that he was attempting to lighten her guilt. It worked. Because he was right. In the overall scheme of things, she was puny. “Will you say goodbye to Sam and the other children? I won’t have time.” She knew the children adored Naasir—even if he did growl at them when he caught them doing mischief.

They saw and loved the primal creature inside him in a way many adults didn’t.

“Yes,” he promised before wrapping her in his arms and rubbing the side of his face against hers. “You are your father’s cub. Go. He will want you by his side.”

Her numbness threatened to crack, her eyes burning. Jerking away on a nod, she headed to their stronghold, which had survived unscathed for the most part. Normally, she’d fly to the airfield, but with her wing injured, she asked Yana—small and fast and dazzlingly smart—to arrange other transport.

It ended up being a truck with an enclosed cab designed for angelic comfort, her driver a five-hundred-year-old vampire who’d grown up in the region in which the Refuge was based.

He drove like he was part mountain goat.

At any other time, she would’ve bantered with him about his lack of fear and insane reflexes, but this trip passed in silence.

He got her to the airfield in half the time it would’ve taken anyone else.

“Thank you,” she managed.

Thick beard gleaming in the early evening light, he bowed from the waist. “It is my honor, Consort.”

She was in her seat in the jet soon afterward when she realized she had a faint signal. Deciding to take advantage of it before they got in the air, she messaged Dmitri: Any change in his condition?

The response was so long in coming that her blood seized, her heart cold.

Dmitri’s belated reply told her she’d been right to worry: He stopped breathing during emergency surgery. They’ve got him back, but no one will know his full status until he comes out of the operating room.

Her fingers clenched on her phone.

A crack of sound, the damage a faint spiderweb across the screen.

7

Elena didn’t know how she made it through the flight.

Exhaustion alone should’ve put her under, but the throbbing pain in her shoulder paired with the nausea in her gut kept her up. She knew she shouldn’t further stress Raphael, but he was the only one to whom she wanted to speak.

Picking up her phone with its fractured screen, she made the call. But the connection failed over and over again, until at last they were at points on their separate journeys where they both had reception.

She almost broke down at hearing his voice.

After managing to tell him what had happened, she said, “I just thought he’d go on forever.” Her voice came out rough, her throat scraped raw. “I never thought about a time when he might be gone.” Jeffrey had always been there—and some part of her wanted to believe he always would be. “We’re still so broken—and now I might never get the chance to fix us.”

“No, hbeebti, do not walk that road in your thoughts.” Raphael’s voice brooked no argument. “You and your father are in a far different place than when we first met. A large part of that has to do with you. You have no reason to dance with regret.”

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