—Jessamy, Teacher and Historian
10
Today
Illium’s luggage reached the stronghold just before sunset.
He’d been in the air at the time, had actually seen the transport vehicle arrive from the otherwise deserted local airport, flanked by angelic guards. Because nothing in Lijuan’s land could be trusted. Not yet. Not before Suyin had dug out and eliminated every piece of darkness.
Supplies for Suyin’s people filled the large transport vehicle to the brim. Illium’s luggage had ridden in on the front passenger seat—it didn’t amount to much, just a duffel of replacement clothing, a few extra weapons, and a stack of horror movies he was to pass on to Aodhan.
“He can download them,” Illium had muttered to Elena when she put the package in his bag. “He knows how.” Unlike with many other immortals, Illium hadn’t had to badger knowledge into Aodhan; he’d learned as Illium learned, both of them in agreement that to be ignorant was to be left behind.
“Yes,” Elena had agreed, “but I got copies of the original cases. See?” She’d held up a case with a garish-looking image of a woman in faux terror, her breasts all but popping out of her skintight nightgown.
“How is that meant to be comfortable for sleeping?”
Elena, who’d been dressed in full hunting gear at the time, every part of her bristling with knives, had dropped the object back in the bag. “It’s not for sleeping. It’s for running from an axe-wielding maniac. Just go with it.”
Placing the stack of movies on the bedside table after Suyin gave everyone an hour off to rest and recharge, Illium scowled. A second later, he told himself to stop being an idiot and, grabbing the entire lot, headed across the hall. Aodhan’s door was open. “Aodhan?”
“On the balcony.”
“Elena sent you some horror flicks. I’ll leave them on this table by the door.”
“Oh, show me. I’ve got paint all over my hands.”
Of course Aodhan’s idea of taking a break was to pick up a brush. Illium’s lips kicked up for a heartbeat, but the surge of affection was no match for his discomfort and hurt. He did not want to be in Aodhan’s personal space.
But since he knew Elena would ask what Aodhan had thought of the original cases, he strode through the sunnily yellow room decorated with pictures of sunflowers and kittens wearing fancy hats. There was even a marble statue of what looked to have been someone’s prized pug. A less Aodhan room he couldn’t imagine—but for one thing: the wide balcony that spilled light into the space.
Light and more than one exit, those were the two nonnegotiables for Aodhan. He’d rather sleep under the stars than be stuck in a room that was dark. As for any room or apartment with difficult points of egress? Aodhan wouldn’t even step inside.
Illium’s chest ached under the weight of knowing why.
He also knew why Aodhan had gone straight to the balcony after Suyin mandated a rest break. The light at this time of day was coveted by artists everywhere. As a child, Illium had learned to amuse himself during those times—oh, his mother would’ve come to him at once if he called, but he’d seen such joy in her face when she painted in the evening light that he’d tried not to get into trouble then.
Later, he’d watched Aodhan fall under the same spell of light.
The sparkle of the other man’s wings threw colors against the walls, making Illium’s stomach clench. Sparkle. A name born in childhood friendship, but one Illium hadn’t used for a long time after Aodhan was hurt. The sound of it had made guilt gnaw at him—because it reminded him of all Aodhan could’ve been if Illium had been a better friend, had found him sooner, had not fought with him in the first place.
Aodhan would’ve been with him that day if the two of them hadn’t butted heads over Aodhan’s infatuation with a flight instructor Illium couldn’t stand. The asshole angel had been dangling Aodhan along on a string, while playing the same game with a female vampire and a mortal male.
Illium, furious on his friend’s behalf, had muttered that the angel in question would “fuck a goat if he could get away with it.”
Aodhan had taken that as a comment on his own intelligence and desirability when Illium had meant the opposite: that Aodhan was far too good for the likes of the instructor.
Such a fucking stupid thing.
He should’ve just shut his mouth, let the infatuation run its course.
But he hadn’t. And his Sparkle had ended up in a nightmare that had stolen his light.