Sudden calm, the very center of the angry funnel.
The rage of wind again in a matter of heartbeats, vicious and violent and demanding. His tunic was torn off his body. Something small and sharp slammed into his rib cage. He shrugged off the minor injury, his focus unflinching. Above him, the plane groaned but held together as they emerged out the other side.
Smaller twisters continued to lay waste to the airport around them. The one mercy was that this was a private airport for Tower use and this was the final flight coming in or going out today. All other planes were currently clear of crew and passengers. Andreja, guide me in. The swirling debris blinded and confused.
You’re right above the runway, sire. Andreja’s voice was crystalline; the angel was far more powerful than most people realized. I see the outline of the plane glowing gold. There’s light coming from inside, too. If you continue to come down on the current slope, you’ll have plenty of room.
Andreja kept him updated until Raphael was close enough to the ground to see the tarmac. Dougal had lowered the wheels when he began the landing process, and while the space underneath wasn’t enough for Raphael to stand to his full height, it’d be enough if he bent his knees.
Even down and stable, he didn’t release the plane. Stay onboard. They remained within a howling gray swirl of dust and debris and fury.
Holy shit, Archangel. And I was impressed with Bluebell turning a helicopter upside down. Elena’s voice was pure life inside him, a burst of joyous light. I just said that to him and he’s pretending to sulk but his eyes are huge and he keeps staring out the window then rubbing those eyes only to stare again. Aodhan is flat out discombobulated.
Her words were so normal, so much a part of his life that his cheeks creased despite the winds that surged violently around them. An archangel must have some tricks up his sleeve, he said, just as Andreja’s voice came into his mind.
Sire. Massive twister building on the tail end of the plane.
46
Raphael glanced in that direction, was just able to see the bottom of the violent rotation of wind and dirt and pieces of plane wreckage. It’s going to get loud, he warned everyone on the plane as he sent even more power into the energy shield he’d created around the plane.
Light began to spear out above him and at first he thought he’d lost control. But no, the shell he’d erected was holding its pattern. Elena?
Yeah, I’m glowing big-time. Happened while we were landing, too. Partial battery kicking in?
I haven’t reached for your energy. He’d needed the massive amount held by the Legion. Do you feel ill or hurt?
No. I’m just a glowstick. A kiss he felt. We’ll figure it out later. Concentrate on keeping yourself alive so I don’t have to kick your ass.
Again, she worried about him when, of all of them, he was the one most likely to survive. Even if a twister picked him up and smashed him to the earth at terminal velocity, it would not be terminal for him. His body would knit itself back together sooner or later.
Illium would survive, too. His recovery would be far longer, but he was old and strong enough now to make it. Aodhan was the same. Dougal and his copilot, however, would not endure. Their heads would likely be torn from their bodies by the impact and, as vampires, that was it for them.
As for Elena . . . She was far less breakable than she’d been before the Cascade tried to steal her soul, but she remained a young angel. Her body would not last being battered into pieces.
So he’d ensure it didn’t come to that.
Staring down at the tarmac, he anchored himself. The tarmac cracked around him as his energy shoved into the earth and clawed itself into stone so far below it was part of the planet’s mantle. In concert with the shield, it kept the plane from moving as the twister hit.
Pieces of plane wreckage whacked hard against the sides of the craft, but nothing got through the shell of lightning fire. A bit of debris hit him in the leg, and it was only then that he realized he’d forgotten to create a shield around himself.
It took but a thought.
A roar of noise and dust and nothingness. Then . . . an abrupt silence. Andreja. Status.
I’m scanning the skies and the landscape. I don’t see any more twisters. All is calm.
Raphael sucked the energy that protected the plane into himself, pouring a vast amount of it back into the Legion, some of whom had fallen where they stood when he grabbed for their power. He had no desire or need to carry that much power in his own body—not when the Cascade lightning was already so violent. I thank you.
We are yours, whispered seven hundred and seventy-seven voices. This power is yours.
Inside him, the Cascade energy settled back in with a familiar coldness leavened only with a tendril of wildfire and steel. Deplane, he said to those inside.
Already out from under the plane, he rose into the air just as the clouds opened up. Pounding rain began to slice in from his right, hitting his skin in hundreds of sharp, cold shards.
The Legion mark on his temple flared.
The door of the plane opened at last, and Elena raced out. He was hovering right outside, hauled her off the top of the stairs and into his arms. She clung to him with a laugh, the lightning storm of her wings brilliant against the gray heaviness of the rain-wet world. A second later, she thrust her hands into his hair, pulled his head down to her own, and kissed him stupid.
* * *
• • •
Later, they stood with Dmitri and watched the footage from the airport cameras and from a plane spotter who’d been parked at a “secret” location the enthusiasts shared only among themselves. The Tower let them be because they never tried to breach the airport boundaries and policed themselves into good behavior. This spotter had been recording the jet coming in, complete with commentary.
“Tower 1 is about to land,” he said cheerfully. “Like, that’s not the actual call sign because the Tower doesn’t advertise which of its planes are in the sky, but I can tell this is number 1 from that slight mark on the tail. Means one of the senior people must be onboard. Can’t wait—Fuck!”
The footage wobbled as he focused in on a tornado that had appeared out of nowhere. He whipped the camera back and forth as another appeared, then another.
“Oh cripes! How’s the pilot going to avoid those?” Fear rippled through his words. “That plane is going to go right into that twister. Oh man, oh man . . .” His words mumbled off into a chill terror they could almost feel, until his voice squeaked again. “Raphael! Fuck me! No one is going to believe this!”
He’d caught the instant Raphael’s energy crawled all over the plane and turned it into a glowing beacon in the heavy gray darkness. The plane was soon obscured by the twisters and the dirt and debris in the air, only to reappear in patches as Raphael brought it in to land.