Page 27 of Archangel’s Lineage

Illium’s lover, best friend, and fellow member of the Seven had built that studio five years ago, in a part of the Enclave not visible from the water but that received plenty of natural light.

“I threatened to hide his paintbrushes if he didn’t allow me to feed him at least one proper meal a day,” Illium muttered darkly. “Someone should’ve warned me about creative types.”

The two of them emerged onto one of the main avenues, the sky above busy with angelic traffic, their wings lit by the pale glow of the morning sun. Below, mortals and vampires, half in New Yorker black, the other half in corporate suits, strode to their jobs or into the luxury boutiques that lined this stretch.

A lunatic messenger on a fold-up scooter zipped down the street, zigzagging through the traffic as if he was on a damn motorcycle. At least he was wearing a helmet. Even the pigeons seemed to be giving him the side-eye.

“Sparkle is lucky I’m such a ball of sunshine.” Illium’s voice was the embodiment of a scowl. “He growls like a feral wolf half the time at this stage of a project.”

Elena chuckled at that most unexpected description of quiet, contained Aodhan. Because if anyone knew Aodhan, it was Illium. The two were each other’s forever and had been for a long time, even if it’d taken them a while to realize it. “How’s the project going?”

“Breathtaking.” Smug pride. “He’s almost ready to show everyone.”

“I can’t wait.”

They walked on, content to listen to the city wake up and get ready for business. A blue-haired man in a top of glittery gold mesh and skintight black jeans asked Illium for a selfie “since we’re so coordinated, honey,” and Illium obliged with a grin, spreading his wings out in a show behind the two of them. He’d never lost his heart, no matter how potent his power. She couldn’t imagine him as an archangel ruthless, but the signs of his intensifying strength were obvious.

No. She wouldn’t think about that. Not today. Not when her nerves were already close to shattered.

A couple of minutes later, she said, “What’s happening at the Refuge?” It wasn’t only a question meant to distract her from her circling thoughts about Jeffrey. Keeping on top of a situation like this, especially in Raphael’s absence, was part of her duties as consort. “Any updates?”

“The sire asked me to recruit mortals to see if they can spot the Refuge in a satellite image.”

As she listened, the blue-winged angel told her the rest of it—including about the Mantle. Once, she might’ve bristled that Raphael had spoken to one of his Seven rather than to her about such a momentous matter, seeing it as a comment on her capability. And Raphael might’ve done so because he wanted to protect her.

But she’d matured and so had he.

These days, he treated her as an equal, and she didn’t see insult in what were pragmatic decisions that came with being one of the Cadre. Or with the gentle choices made to protect an already emotionally bruised lover. “Did you set up the test before you came to meet me?”

Illium waited to answer until they’d crossed the street, entering a quieter residential area full of spring-green trees that nudged at her memories. “Yes. Played it off as a test of their observation skills, with the aim to spot a concealed building, and hid the Refuge feed in a group of five—one of which does feature a building that’s difficult to spot.

“I gave the task to the junior security team—the five of them do low-stakes computer work for us. First one to spot the building gets an extra paid day off.”

Elena’s throat burned at the idea of Sam and other angelic children being exposed to the world. As with mortal children, they were so damn helpless. But unlike the vast majority of mortal children, they’d also draw hate virulent and vicious from those who wanted to strike at their elders. “How long did you give the searchers?”

“Three hours.” He came to a halt after turning the corner onto a street with lovingly maintained brownstones. “This is where I leave you.”

Only then did Elena realize why the other street had looked so familiar. She’d just become used to seeing it from the air rather than from this perspective. “You brought me to Sara.” Her throat grew thick.

“I’ll meet you back at the Tower.” Illium pressed his cheek to her temple just as Elena’s best friend opened her door to run down the steps. She was dressed in jeans that hugged her legs, along with a simple sweater of aqua green that made her brown skin glow. Her black hair was pulled back into a knot, her bangs as thick and flawless as ever.

“Ellie!”

Elena let her best friend enclose her in an embrace tight. She couldn’t cry, the tears locked up inside like hard little stones, but oh, it felt good to be held by the woman who’d been a part of her life for so long that she might as well be her sister.

A strong gust, Illium a streak of blue in the sky when they glanced up.

It was only after they were inside, with Elena crouched down to pet a big black dog who now moved with slow deliberation and had white in his whiskers, that Sara told her the reason why Bluebell had walked her over.

“I was on the other side of the city helping one of the younger hunters when Raphael called,” she said as she bustled about making coffee. “I was going to head straight to you, but he said you’d feel better in my home, asked me to wait here for you.”

Elena bit down hard on her lower lip, overwhelmed by the love that surrounded her. “Thank you.”

Slayer rose under her touch to pad out, probably to go find his favorite human in all the world. He moved like the very senior citizen he was; in human terms, he’d passed the century mark. Melancholy hit her hard as she stood. She remembered when he’d been a puppy, rambunctious and with so much energy in his body that he’d needed three long walks a day.

“Shut up,” Sara said in response to her thanks, the words spoken with the ease of a friendship set in stone. “As if I’d be anywhere but with you at this time.” She put an empty mug down on the breakfast counter, in readiness for the dark brew that already scented the air. “You want eggs or pancakes or both? I’ll throw in bacon for sure.”

“I don’t think I can eat.”

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