Go, he said. Protecting you will snap Illium out of his shock. Aodhan will fly from the Refuge to meet you in Morocco. The current situation with the excess number of archangels will keep the Cadre distracted in the interim.
Elena’s shoulders grew less tight. Aodhan and Illium currently had a rocky relationship, but their friendship was centuries old. It might be under strain, but it wasn’t going to fracture anytime soon. I’ll be back as soon as Illium’s doing okay.
The crashing and ice-kissed sea in her mind, her archangel’s embrace dangerously more powerful.
“I’m coming with you.”
Illium snapped up his head, the blue-tipped black of his hair shifting with the movement. “You need to be here, with the sire.”
“We’ve spoken—it’s fine. I’ll call the flight crew to let them know we’re on our way.”
“Ellie—” Eyes of beaten gold dark with torment and confusion.
“Decision’s made.” She rose. “Do you need to grab clothes from your suite?”
Making a frustrated sound, he said, “This isn’t over,” but left at a run.
She alerted their most senior pilot—the grumpy but brilliant Dougal—then ducked into her closet to grab a change of clothes for herself . . . and saw a brand-new canvas duffel bag sitting there, packed and ready. Her battered old bag that had survived many a hunter trip had been at the Enclave house when it went boom.
This one was an identical match, down to the padded shoulder straps.
“Montgomery, I love you more than is natural.” Grabbing the bag and pausing only long enough to throw in her laptop and some underwear, she was out in the corridor when a thought struck her. Raphael. She waited for an acknowledgment of the contact; she wasn’t about to distract him when he was in a discussion with ruthless immortals who’d take advantage of any sign of weakness.
You can speak, hbeebti. Right now, matters are civil and calm and icy. With Lijuan awake, there is no room for these newly awakened ones in our world. It is not their time.
Elena’s skin prickled, his words reminding her of Cassandra, who lived always out of time. The Hummingbird—
It is done, Raphael interrupted. Dmitri has asked one of our toughest warriors in the region to have an emotional crisis. The Hummingbird has a soft heart—she will stay with the seemingly heartbroken warrior for as long as it takes. He has promised to cry if she tries to stir.
We have good people. And the Hummingbird inspired devotion; Illium’s mother was so gentle, so kind, and so broken that Elena’d punch anyone who was mean to her in any way. Good luck with the meeting.
At the rate it’s going, I may be here when you return—Antonicus is orating as if in an amphitheater of disciples, while Aegaeon and Alexander gnash their teeth and Charisemnon snipes.
She blew him a kiss with her mind just as she caught silver blue in her peripheral vision. Illium was back, his bag held in one hand and his facial muscles taut. They didn’t speak as they strode to the nearest balcony to take off. The wind was a frigid slap, icicles still hanging from a multitude of buildings and the Hudson boasting the odd iceberg.
“You should go back!” Illium yelled across the space between them.
“I can’t hear you!” she yelled back in a singsong voice.
“How can I focus on my mother if I’m worried about you?”
The attempt at a guilt trip might’ve worked if she hadn’t been aware that Aodhan was also on the way and that she’d be returning to Manhattan as soon as Illium had another trusted friend by his side. “We’ll both focus on her!” She winged to the right to get around a skyscraper.
Hands pressed against the windows, the office workers waved at her. She waved back on a bolt of incandescent happiness. To lose flight, then regain it . . . Her throat grew thick, her eyes hot.
Elena. Aeclari. We fly.
Countless numbers of the Legion flew up from various buildings to join her and Illium, an enigmatic escort on silent gray wings. The one nearest to her still had frozen eyelashes from the recent storm, his hair glittering with ice. He must’ve been sitting in a shadow the sun hadn’t warmed. She just shook her head; the Legion kept their home warm for their plants but didn’t seem to mind being frozen into statues.
The beings from the deep stayed aloft when Elena and Illium landed at the Tower airstrip. “Hi Mack!” She waved cheerfully at the heavily built man of medium height who’d just come around the plane—it looked like he was doing a safety check. Probably his tenth one so far. Dougal Mackenzie was a teensy bit detail-oriented. Exactly what Elena wanted in a pilot.
“Consort.” Dark eyes met hers before he inclined his head, his hair a rich mahogany that suited the warm cream of his skin and his facial structure’s hard angles and squares.
“I heard about your drunken weekend in the Caribbean! Go, Mack!” She’d heard nothing of the sort, but provoking a rise out of the vampire had become a calling.
Dougal looked at her stone-faced.
Taking her hand, Illium dragged her to the plane. “I apologize for the consort,” he said to Dougal, so polite and proper that Elena felt bad for surrendering to her urge to tweak the vampire’s nose. Dougal couldn’t help being so stiff.
Then Bluebell grinned. “Next time, we’ll do one of Astaad’s tropical islands—heavy on the tequila. No more doe-eyed maidens, though. I can’t keep up with you.”
Dougal’s lips actually gave the vague approximation of a smile.
Elena was still gaping over it when Illium pushed her up the stairs to board. She moved quickly so they could get underway, but the instant they were both in their seats, she poked him in the ribs. “Do you and Dougal really hang out or were you messing with me?”
“What do you think?”
She gave a prim sniff and folded her arms. “Ever since I learned that you and Andreas are buddy-buddy, I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”
He laughed, though it did nothing to budge the intense darkness in the depths of his gaze. “Dougal and I have been friends since he joined Raphael’s service. The laird can—” A sudden halt, followed by pursed lips. “But Dougal’s secrets aren’t for me to tell.” A flutter of black lashes dipped in blue.
“One of these days, Bluebell . . .”
Dougal entered the plane, with his copilot following. The petite female vampire shut the door with professional speed before slipping into the cockpit to join Dougal. The two had them in the air much faster than with a commercial flight.
Elena’s eyes went to the window, her gaze searching for the Tower. I’ll see you soon, Archangel.