He is not a friend. Raphael’s features gave nothing away as he turned to the Ancient, his presence remote in a way that reminded her of the archangel she’d first met. “You have been most patient. It is time, however, that we had a meeting of the Cadre.”
“It has been no trouble,” Antonicus replied in a language that Raphael could just understand. He knew the other archangel had chosen that language on purpose—because he must’ve already picked up modern English. That was a skill that seemed to sharpen with age and knowledge, as if once the brain had a hundred languages inside it, new ones were simply absorbed.
Antonicus’s eyes returned to Elena.
“Unless you wish to start a war,” Raphael said in the same ancient language, “you will treat my consort with respect. Or she will be forced to excise your eyes from your head.”
Clearly comprehending his tone if not his words, Elena began to play a sharp blade through her fingers.
Antonicus remembered his manners at last—he even had the grace to flush. Raphael knew the change was unlikely to last. Angels this old, archangel or not, had a tendency to believe age gave them the freedom to discard accepted rules of behavior.
“Consort.” The archangel spoke English with a liquid accent. “You are the most unique being I have seen in all my life.”
“Guess you don’t know Naasir,” was Elena’s cool riposte.
Antonicus’s wings opened in a wave of charcoal gray, snapped shut. “Who is this Naasir? Is he like you? An angel-Made?”
Elena’s smile was slow and as sly as Naasir’s. “You’ll have to ask Naasir what he is.”
Amusement slicing through the ice of his anger, Raphael touched her mind. Attempting to break Naasir’s secrets through others?
Never! I’m going to find those answers myself. I just want Antonicus to beat his head against that particular brick wall, too.
“Sire.” Dmitri stepped into the office. “Archangel Neha has convened a meeting of the Cadre.” Words of perfect politeness that gave away nothing of the reality of Raphael and Dmitri’s relationship. His second and friend had met enough Ancients to understand how to manipulate their perceptions where it mattered.
Antonicus paid no mind to Dmitri. The old were often foolish.
“Keep an eye on this feed.” Raphael indicated what was occurring on Neha’s border. “Interrupt us if there is a major change.” With that, he led Elena and Antonicus into the large room set up for these meetings and initiated the link.
Antonicus reared back when he saw Neha’s face appear on the central screen, Caliane’s on the screen next to hers. “What is this? You have trapped the Cadre within these black boxes?” His wings began to glow.
“Antonicus, I would know that voice anywhere.” Caliane, her white leathers dusty and her hair damp, shook her head. “Still acting before you think, I see.”
“We do not have time to explain the modern world to you,” Neha snapped at the much older archangel. “Suffice to say that these are communication devices.”
More faces appeared on the screens around them. Alexander also had an unknown archangel with him. Raphael’s gut tightened. Each waking should’ve sent a wave of color or light or sound across the world, alerting the entire Cadre as to what was occurring. In New York, aside from the disturbance caused by Antonicus’s waking, that had only happened with the death screams that announced Lijuan’s return.
Unless . . . was it possible the others had woken all at once?
He waited for Astaad, his spine rigid. The Archangel of the Pacific Isles was the final member of the Cadre to appear. With him was an archangel with massive shoulders and hair of blue-green. Elena, I need you to go to your Bluebell. I want you with him when I give him some news.
Elena slipped out of the room in silence and without questions, and he knew she’d felt the urgency pulsing through his veins.
He spoke next to Dmitri. Find someone we trust in the village by Lumia. No, someone the Hummingbird trusts. That individual’s task is to keep her away from any news feeds until given further orders. Illium’s mother was at least isolated enough that he could give her time to become used to this turn of events on her own terms before the world started coming at her.
Raphael forced himself to pay attention as Alexander introduced Zanaya, then did his own duty by presenting Antonicus. Astaad was commendably calm in his presentation of Aegaeon.
The Ancient scowled. “I did not intend to wake yet. I have barely Slept.”
A surge of violence inside Raphael that had his hand curling into a hard fist by his side. Better that this particular Ancient had Slept forever.
Raphael, I’m with Illium. He’s exhausted after the training maneuvers he’s been running all day.
Stay with him. No matter what. He couldn’t tell Elena why—this news must go first to Illium.
I won’t budge from his side.
Raphael touched Illium’s mind without effort—all his Seven were permanent imprints in his mind. Illium.
Sire. Do you need me? I’m with Ellie. I was on my way to bed but she lured me over with a full tray of Sivya’s delectable treats.
Raphael hoped Illium’s bond with Elena would help him weather this. I have bad news for you. He gave the younger angel the information with no attempt to soften the blow—there could be no softening it. Your father has awakened.
* * *
• • •
Elena knew the instant Raphael told Illium whatever it was that had put that deadly yet protective tone in his voice. Illium froze in the act of reaching for another tart, suddenly as motionless as a marble statue. Seated beside him, she slipped her hand over one of his brutally clenched ones. He didn’t react, his jaw rigid and his wings held precisely to his back.
Elena just held on.
It felt like forever before he said, “I have to go to Morocco.” Each word was harsh, full of grit.
Acting on instinct, Elena said, “You’re fast, but you’re tired. The jet’s ready.” It was always ready and waiting to go when Elena, Raphael, or any of the Seven were in New York. “It’ll have you at the private airstrip in Morocco in eleven hours.”
Illium’s nod was jagged, his expression dangerously flat.
Raphael, Illium’s heading to Morocco. I want to go with him. There was no way she was going to put Bluebell on that plane alone, not in his current condition. Will my being absent throw a spanner in the works?
That was a question she wouldn’t have asked after first falling for her archangel, but their relationship had grown and matured. It was no longer about her fighting for her freedom and Raphael wanting to wrap her up in cotton wool. She was his consort and not only did he need her by his side at certain times, their enemies wouldn’t hesitate to use her to make a point against him.