“But,” he’d continued, “there are many who will be embarrassed and aghast to realize they are causing you discomfort.” A lot of people were so struck by Aodhan that they forgot themselves; this didn’t excuse their actions but at least they could be taught to be better. “And, Aodhan—there will come a time when you are so strong that no one will dare look at you with such open greed.”
A quick, shy smile from the youth that had Raphael ruffling his hair as he so often did with Illium. “Whatever happens,” he’d added, “always remember what I said first—these are the actions of others. They do not in any way define you.”
Aodhan had taken a deep breath, exhaled. “At times, I wonder what it would be like to be normal.”
“Naasir says normal is overrated,” Raphael had answered. “He says it’s far better to be a one-being and keep everyone guessing.”
Aodhan’s smile had turned dazzling, his entire being alight. “I will aim to be more like Naasir, sire.”
That delighted smile was what burned in Raphael’s mind as he flew high above the clouds, while Naasir ran far below, a hunter invisible. Illium flew slightly behind Raphael, Jason with him, while Dmitri held the fort for Raphael, and Galen kept an eye on the Refuge base of their enemy.
Because that angel was now Raphael’s enemy. Sachieri had dared take Aodhan, dared take one of Raphael’s people. She would pay the price. At present, she and her equally guilty lover, Bathar, were in her Refuge home, but even had she been at the stronghold where she’d most likely imprisoned Aodhan, it wouldn’t have mattered.
Sachieri was a dealer of rare antiquities for immortals. No warrior, no power, certainly no match for an archangel. What mattered was to find Aodhan before any of her people got to him and attempted to use him as a hostage.
Which was why all the angels were above the cloud layer, while Naasir crept up to the stronghold. He wasn’t quite human today, hadn’t been quite human since he’d passed Sachieri in the Refuge a week earlier and caught a hint of Aodhan’s scent on her clothing.
Not an old, faded scent like Naasir told him existed yet in parts of Aodhan’s studio, but a fresh, bright scent that spoke of recent contact. That Aodhan was an angel uncomfortable with touch except for his closest family, lovers, and friends, just made the implication of the scent all the more enraging.
“I would rip out her throat,” Naasir had said to Raphael, his silver eyes as bright as a tiger’s and a growl in his throat. “After we find Aodhan.”
“If she has a throat left after I am done with her.” Raphael’s rage was a cold, cold beast, one who understood that vengeance could last an eternity.
Naasir had tilted his head to the side. “He is one of your cubs. You can go first.”
Despite having seen Aodhan grow up, Raphael didn’t think of him as a child. He saw in him a young warrior any angel would be proud to have among his people. But Aodhan was his, and no one was permitted to hurt Raphael’s people. Jason, how is Illium?
In control, was the cool response from the spymaster who’d searched with a relentless will that had left him as thin as Illium, yet who blamed himself for not having found Aodhan. He won’t act precipitously and put the operation in jeopardy.
And you, Jason? Can I trust you to maintain?
Yes, sire.
His word was enough for Raphael. Jason wouldn’t be his spymaster if Raphael didn’t have implicit trust in him. What Sachieri had done, however, had damaged the black-winged angel, as it had damaged all of them—including the already fractured Lady Sharine. At least her broken mind had protected her somewhat; at times, she forgot Aodhan was gone and talked as if they’d painted together the previous day.
Strange mercies.
But when this is done, Jason added, I intend to erase Sachieri and Bathar from angelic history. I plan to steal every document in which either of their names is mentioned, and to strongly encourage anyone who has had dealings with them to forget they ever existed.
Jason wasn’t a violent angel—but he burned with a smoldering power. For most, his encouragement would be difficult to resist; Raphael would take care of any who remained. I think, Jason, you will have the cooperation of more people than you know.
Angelkind’s fascination with Aodhan could be used to gain him justice of a kind that would be a horror to an immortal: to be so forgotten that thousands of years of life added up to nothing. Neither has a child. Their bloodlines end with them.
For Aodhan’s captors would both die. But it wouldn’t be quick. Not for this crime.