Page 110 of Archangel’s Lineage

Raphael had been ready to hold a devastated Elena after the ceremony, but though she was quiet in the aftermath, her gaze was free of torment. And that night, as they sat with their legs hanging over the edge of the Tower roof, their wings overlapping, she wove her fingers into his and said, “I feel lighter inside. As if I’ve let go of a weight that I’ve carried around since the day it all went wrong.”

Lifting their twined hands, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m glad of that, Elena-mine.” He hoped that meant an easing of the nightmares that haunted her to this day. He hated waking to her pain. Even worse, he hated knowing that she had to deal with them on her own when he was away on Cadre business.

She echoed his caress, brushing her lips over his knuckles. “How are you feeling? About the whole ‘blood of Marduk’s line’ business?”

He rolled his eyes like some insolent young buck. “I do believe arrogance has a face and it looks suspiciously like Marduk’s.”

Elena’s laughter wrapped around him, a welcome sound in the glittering dark of their city.

Smiling, he moved his wing affectionately over hers. “I suppose I’m grateful in a sense—not many angels ever get to see that far back into their lineage. There’s also no doubting the connection, not with the mark so alive in general, and ablaze when I’m near him.”

The Legion symbol shimmered at that moment, lit by an inner glow.

“Marduk is a bit much,” Elena said, “but he’s given me hope for the Legion’s return, and for that, I can put up with him.” She kicked her legs. “Do you think the Ancestors were all dragonish?”

“No. If that were so, Marduk would have more difficulty pinpointing those of his line. I have the feeling the Ancestors were as varied as we are today.”

“Our world would’ve been more primeval then, too,” Elena murmured. “I see what he means, that they were of their time.”

“Yes, and they were wise enough to understand that.” Raphael looked out at the sprawl of their city, so vivid and alive—and so peaceful. “This time, this world is ours. The Mantle is stable, and there have been no further unexpected natural events since the day you halted us from stabbing Keir without reason.”

“Stop being annoyed at yourself for not thinking of it.” She nudged his shoulder with her own. “I only thought of it because I’m still mortal in my head—the idea of a reset key that relies on stabbing a critically important person just felt ‘off.’ It seemed to me that your Ancestors wouldn’t want to usher in a stable world by making you participate in a group murder.”

“Never lose that mortal heart and mind, hbeebti. I’m not so sure our ancestors weren’t exactly that pitiless.”

“No chance on the mortal part.” She put her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Are we at peace now?”

“Yes. A peace unlike any other.” He frowned, tried to put what he sensed into words. “I understand now, about the power flows of the world.

“I ascended when it was already turbulent. I’ve never known true peace, but now I feel it. As if I was riding the rapids the entire time, only to emerge onto a glass-calm lake.”

Elena nodded slowly, but didn’t interrupt.

“This is also the first time since my ascension,” he added, “that I know beyond question that no one wishes to launch a war, is going mad, or covets anything else held by others of the Cadre.”

“I’ve only been around a droplet of time immortal-wise, but yeah, I can see it.” Elena held up both hands, with one pinky down. “You and me, we’re it forever and just want to be left alone to get on with making kissy faces and looking after our people.”

His lips twitched, and he kissed her impertinent mouth with a hot, wet passion that had her wings stirring.

“I’m not done yet.” Breathless, she broke the kiss to fold down another finger. “Titus only ever wanted Southern Africa and is probably the least warlike of anyone in the Cadre. Even you, my archangel.”

“Agreed.” The African archangel was good-natured to the core. “My theory is that it’s because he has so many siblings—he grew a big voice to be heard over all his strong-minded sisters, but he also grew up learning to share.”

“You know, I think you’re right. Too many only children on the Cadre.” A mock scowl. “Then there’s Lady Sharine. He’s more interested in building a life with her than in conquest.

“Alexander,” Elena continued, “has definitely mellowed since Zanaya came out of Sleep. They also seem focused on building up and strengthening both their territories rather looking to expand—and of course, in making kissy faces of their own.”

“I do believe I will dare you to say that last to Alexander’s face.”

“Dare taken. Please save me when he tries the old smiting.” She drew his laughing face down to her own, nibbled on his lower lip.

“What about Aegaeon?” he said afterward, in no hurry to rush this slow, mutual seduction.

“Hah! You think you’ve got me!” Settling back against his side, she elbowed him playfully. “But I did a bit of research thanks to Jessamy, and it looks like he never makes war unless he has a partner in archangelic crime.

“By himself, Aegaeon’s a lush—yeah, he rules and he keeps a good territory. But the rest of the time, he’s all booze, babes, and building monuments to himself. You know what that says about the size of a man’s, er... assets.”

Raphael ran his fingers along the sensitive arch of her wings, had the pleasure of feeling her shiver. “I forgot to tell you he’s just begun construction on a grand palace, across the Danube from Michaela’s old palace. Word is, that one wasn’t grand enough for him.”

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