“Angel?” A questioning lilt to her voice as she spoke in a dialect that was one of three he’d heard in common use here.
“My name is Illium.” His voice came out rough, his breath stuck in his lungs. “Yes, thank you.”
He watched her as she poured the old-fashioned drink into his tumbler, and he tried not to stare. He failed.
She had to be one of Kaia’s descendants. The resemblance was too striking. But he couldn’t ask her. She wouldn’t know. Humans rarely had such long memories, or kept such records.
Smiling shyly at him, she moved away, to head to Aodhan.
Whose eyes were locked on Illium.
Do you see? Illium asked his friend, desperate to know if he was going mad.
Aodhan nodded. She must have arrived with the newest group of survivors. I haven’t seen her before. He glanced up then, spoke to the woman.
Her reply was too soft to reach Illium, but it made Aodhan’s face go eerily quiet. After she left to refill her jug, the shattered blue-green of Aodhan’s gaze met Illium’s. Her name is Kai. A family name she tells me.
Kaia. Kai.
Illium swallowed hard, then picked up his tumbler of mead and drank it down to the last drop. He was aware of conversation going on all around him, but it was all just a buzz of noise to him. It took everything he had not to get up and go after her. He just wanted to . . . what? Wanted to what?
That mortal woman wasn’t Kaia, wasn’t his long-dead lover.
And still his eyes watched for her, his skin tight with anticipation.
* * *
* * *
No matter Illium’s reputation as open and friendly, Aodhan knew he was expert at hiding his thoughts when he felt like it. He’d learned to do it to protect Lady Sharine in her fractured years. Back then, no matter how bad his day had been, Illium could put on a perfect facsimile of joy to protect his mother’s heart.
But Aodhan had been his friend too long not to see through any shield he might attempt. Right now, his friend’s entire attention was on the pretty mortal woman who’d disappeared into the kitchen area.
Aodhan had witnessed Illium’s shock, his own as powerful.
He’d never liked Kaia. She’d treated Illium as a trophy, her angelic lover to show off. He’d seen her as young and foolish and frivolous, a woman who’d never really mature. It had had nothing to do with her mortality—there were angels of three thousand who had as much air in their heads. It was a thing of personality.
He wished with all his being, however, that he hadn’t been proven right.
Aodhan would’ve rather gritted his teeth through Kaia’s entire mortal lifetime if it would’ve meant an end to Illium’s hurt. Which made his next decision simple. Illium.
When his friend’s head jerked his way, he said, Suyin has been held back by fifteen minutes.
Rising at once, Illium stepped away from the bench and toward the doors that led into the kitchens. Aodhan watched him go, unsure of his emotions. Illium had always been fascinated by mortals, compelled by them. It was by looking through Illium’s eyes that Aodhan had first learned to value mortal hearts, mortal dreams.
But Kaia . . .
She’d been Illium’s first love. Illium had given all of himself to her in that generous, uninhibited way he’d had as a young man. The same generosity existed in him to this day, but he’d directed it toward his friends, never again loving as he’d loved Kaia.
Aodhan’s gaze went to the doors through which the blue-winged angel had vanished. Face your ghosts, Bluebell, he thought. Conquer the phantom that haunts you. Even as he thought that, he knew there was a very high chance that Illium would choose the very opposite path.
And if he does?
Aodhan swallowed at the question that bloomed bitter acid in his blood. Kai wasn’t Kaia. Perhaps she would be the healing balm Illium needed, a mortal lover to vanquish the one who’d caused the open wound in his psyche. Perhaps Kai would finally effect what Aodhan had never been able to achieve.
His hand spasmed to lock around his tumbler.
Illium’s Flaw caused Illium’s Fall.
—Angelic aphorism
13
The kitchen appeared empty and for a second, sheared in two by a sense of keening loss, Illium thought he’d imagined her. But no, there she was in one corner, having just refilled her jug.
“Oh.” She pressed a hand to her heart, her fingers long and slender.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He felt desperate, almost feral, but he forced himself to keep his distance, keep a smile on his face. “I finished my mead already.” He held out the tumbler he’d somehow had the presence of mind to pick up. “I don’t suppose you’d give me more?”
Her cheeks went pink. “Of course, Angel.”
“Illium,” he corrected again, keeping his voice gentle.
One sleek wing of hair sliding across the softness of her cheek as she poured his drink, she whispered, “Illium,” and he fell back in time, to a laughing season of life when his heart had been unbruised and wide open and Kaia’s wicked smile had owned him.
Her descendant’s smile was softer and appeared more shy at first glance, but the subtle sensuality to it tugged on his memories. “Thank you,” he said after his tumbler was full, but didn’t leave. “Did you travel far to come here?”
She nodded. “We heard the archangel had settled here, and so we came.” Quiet, musical, her voice was pleasing to the ear.
Kaia had sung like a bird, her voice a clear mountain song.
This isn’t her, he reminded himself, but couldn’t help from asking, “Are you leaving with Archangel Suyin tomorrow?” If she was, he’d dream of her until he saw her again.
“No. I’m staying behind to help close up the stronghold, do the final cleanup.”
His entire being exhaled. “Then I’ll see you again soon,” he murmured, forcing himself to step back.
She sucked in a breath, but her lips curved. And there it was—that hint of passionate confidence, the wildness of spirit that had so drawn him to Kaia.
He carried Kai’s smile with him as he returned to the meeting table. Even as he replied to a comment from Yindi, he rubbed a thin metal disk between his thumb and forefinger, having retrieved the keepsake from his pocket on his walk back to his seat. Old and smooth, it was no longer a memorial to all he’d lost, but a talisman to the future.
He’d be able to concentrate now that he knew Kai wouldn’t disappear if he turned around. When Aodhan glanced at him, Illium found himself smiling, in charity with the world. Maybe his tour of duty here wouldn’t be so bad after all.