“But I don’t think she came back the same Suyin she was when Lijuan put her into captivity.” Thoughtful words from the woman who was Jessamy’s right hand. “Before then, all the records talk of her as a great architect, a woman of grace and art. No mention of the rage that lives in her today.”
Aodhan hadn’t needed Andromeda to spell out the latter; he knew better than most that some moments altered you forever. Suyin’s anger was now an indelible part of her, as his shadows were a part of Aodhan. She’d asked him once, if he thought her rage made her weak.
“As long as you don’t let it control you,” Aodhan had answered. “I allowed evil to steal away a part of my life that I will never get back, and I regret that.”
Suyin had returned the unadorned honesty of his words with her own raw truth. “I won’t allow my aunt to be a malignant ghost riding my shoulder, I promise you this, Aodhan. My anger . . . it fuels me.”
“Then use it.”
Today, she said, “Do you need more people? I can—”
“No. We can handle the situation.” Suyin’s circle of trust was incredibly tight. Aodhan wouldn’t deplete it without desperate need.
Her next question had nothing to do with their horrific find. It seemed, in fact, to come out of left field. “How is Illium? Have his power levels stopped fluctuating so dangerously?”
Aodhan went motionless.
Correctly interpreting his silence, Suyin said, “Vetra is a good spymaster.”
His hand clenched on the phone at the realization that Suyin was spying on Raphael, even though he knew his response to be irrational. Raphael was also spying on Suyin. It was a game with the Cadre, though right now, it was also about unearthing any threats that might emerge in the post-war period.
He went to ask what any of that had to do with Illium—because he would never betray his closest friend, not even for his archangel—when he got the import of her question. “If you’re worried I don’t have stable backup, don’t. To save my life, Illium would get in the way of an archangel’s strike.”
Suyin’s response held a tone he couldn’t identify. “I ask only as a friend. He saved my life, too, in battle, though he likely has no memory of it, we were in such fierce combat at the time. He warded off a blow from a morning star aimed at my face—the spikes would’ve surely shattered my skull into a hundred pieces.”
“It’s who he is,” Aodhan said, his gaze going to the wings of defiant blue on the edge of the forest. “I’ll let you know the instant we learn any kind of an answer.”
“Stay safe, Aodhan.”
“And you, Suyin.”
They hung up on that sentiment, Aodhan happy to have gotten through it without having to chase after Illium. His best friend could be impulsive when angry or emotional. Aodhan had been half prepared for him to stride off into the trees.
As Aodhan slid away his phone, Illium crouched down, stayed that way for several seconds. When he rose again, turned, a tiny, furry face looked out at Aodhan from Illium’s muscled embrace.
Of course he’d charmed the wary kitten.
Aodhan couldn’t help his lips from curving. “Another conquest.”
Scratching the top of the kitten’s head, Illium looked around. “Aside from the odd fly and a couple of birds, she’s the only sign of life in this place.” No longer was there anger in his body or in his voice, his attention on the eerie quiet of their surroundings.
That was the thing with Illium—he was rare to anger and quick to forgive. Aodhan was far more likely to hold on to a grudge. “Let’s finish the search. Once we know all there is to know, we can make a plan for our next step.” He nodded at the kitten. “We’ll take her back to the stronghold with us.”
“Yes.” Illium scratched the kitten again, this time under the chin.
She purred, her eyes closing. “That’s my girl,” Illium said, his tone warm with affection. “I think I’ll call you Smoke, for this pretty fur.”
Smile deepening, Aodhan shifted to face the house again. And no longer wanted to smile. His skin chilled.
“Aodhan.”
“We have to look inside, find the extent of . . . whatever this is.”
“Here, you hold Smoke and I’ll—”
Aodhan rounded on his friend. “Stop it.” It came out far harsher than he’d intended, and he was sorry for it at once when Illium’s beautifully mobile face went blank. “Fuck.” He wasn’t one to use profanities, but it was the only word that seemed appropriate.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he said, “I’m not incapable. I’ve been surviving this territory for a year. You don’t need to babysit me.”
Illium’s eyes glowed gold. “Why are you so fucking stuck on that?” It came out hard as stone. “We’ve always had each other’s backs.”
“No, Illium. You’ve been watching my back for over two hundred years, and I’m over it.” Aodhan’s skin burned now, his muscles tense wires. “I’m not a child, and I’m not—”
“Don’t you say it,” Illium gritted out. “Don’t you fucking say it.”
Hand fisting at his side, Aodhan said, “I’m going to check the house. Keep watch outside.”
Illium stepped closer instead of backing away, the heat of his body buffeting Aodhan and his power a storm in the air. “No.” An unbending response. “That house is going to smell like a fucking coffin and you don’t need that.”
Aodhan’s stomach twisted on itself, his throat threatening to choke up. “It’s time,” he said, his voice rough. “I decided not to hide anymore when I first came to New York. I won’t go back on my promise to myself. I won’t, Blue.”
Illium’s gaze turned stark, all anger melting away. “Aodhan.” It was a plea.
“No. Stay here.”
Illium’s jaw worked. “I should knock you out, you stubborn asshole.”
“Try it and see who comes out the winner.” Illium might be the better trained, but Aodhan was a fraction taller and had a little more heft to him. Enough to balance them out in a hand-to-hand combat situation. Because the two of them were never going to fight with angelic powers—it would always be hard and dirty, a thing of muscle and skin and bone.
“Don’t,” Illium said, the single word a request that stood on foundations laid centuries ago. “Don’t do this to yourself. Or to me.”
Aodhan gripped the side of Illium’s neck, pressed his forehead to Illium’s for a single potent second. “If I keep on hiding,” he whispered in a rough rasp, “I might as well still be in that box, Blue.”