Archangel's Storm (Guild Hunter 5)

“The information,” he said as she attempted to budge his shoulders, shove him out of danger. “Was it worth the price?”

A chill silence, the ice cracking and breaking to fall at their feet, the fire flickering out to leave the walls scorched, the corridor dimly illuminated by the single bulb that had survived. Neha’s laugh this time was inhuman enough to sour Mahiya’s stomach, and yet it held a certain amusement.

“Now I understand, Jason. You have a weakness for broken birds, and she would make a pretty hostage.” It seemed to please Neha, that justification. “Very well, you have admirably fulfilled the blood vow. Take this broken bird. Keep her, leave her in some protected aerie, it matters nothing. I have no need of a hostage when I can rend my beloved sister limb from limb with my bare hands.”

Mahiya’s knees almost crumpled, only her grip on Jason keeping her upright. I’m free . . . and my mother is about to die.

37

Dmitri handled several pieces of Tower business, clearing as much of the decks as he could from a distance, including a situation that meant sending a senior angel out of state to deal with another angel who thought to create himself a fiefdom free of Tower oversight.

That done, he spoke to Ilium. “Anything else urgent we need to clear?”

“No, Aodhan should have time to settle in.”

“Good.” Dmitri was conscious the angel would be out of his element, but confident he had the capacity to step into Dmitri’s shoes—to a certain extent. Aodhan and Illium were both much younger, had less experience, but together, they were a dangerous force. “You know how to get hold of me if you need me.”

“Dmitri.” Golden eyes fringed with black lashes tipped in blue met his. “Take care of Honor. I promise I won’t burn down the Tower in your absence—I don’t know why everyone got so excited about a little smoke.”

Aware the blue-winged angel was attempting to lighten his mood, he said, “I’m reassured. Let me just call the fire department.” He signed off to Illium’s laughter and glanced over his shoulder to check on Honor as he did a thousand times through the day.

He’d moved his desk into the bedroom, was never away from her for longer than a few minutes at most. He didn’t ever want her to rouse alone. With the toxin wreaking havoc in her bloodstream, she might panic, be afraid.

“Will you be here when I wake?”

“Always.”

Only once he was sure she was safe, her breathing steady, did he force himself to return to his work, the trees beyond the window rustling under the playful caress of the wind. Two more days until he could wake her, until he could hear her voice again. Two more days.

38

It took Mahiya only minutes to pack the things she couldn’t bear to be without. The bag was pitifully small, but then she’d always known she would one day leave this place. “I haven’t taken any jewels except for those that were undisputed personal gifts,” she said, and it wasn’t a matter of stupid pride but safety. “I can’t risk that Neha will brand me a thief, demand my return for punishment.”

“You have no need to chance such a thing.” Jason nodded in approval at the simple tunic and pants she’d pulled on for the flight out of Neha’s territory. “I will lend you what you need to start your new life.”

The tension that had knotted up her spine at his first sentence, dissolved with his second. “Thank you.” A loan came with an expectation that it would be repaid, did not steal her newfound freedom by making her dependant on him. “Your bag?”

“Nothing I will miss.” He withdrew his sword, checked it, slid it back into the sheath. “Give me yours.”

“It’s not heavy.” Designed to be carried on her front, it left her wings unhindered.

He just reached out and took it, carrying it in one hand. “Your ribs haven’t yet fully healed, so don’t argue.”

“I’ll carry it by hand as you’re doing—at least until we’re out of the fort. You need your hands free should you have to fight.” Her blade-pins would be useful were they cornered, but a sword wielded by a master would end things before it ever got that far.

You have a tendency to give orders yourself, princess. In spite of the dark words, he returned the bag. “Come, we have to go.”

Mahiya stepped out onto the balcony, hesitated. “Vanhi, I can’t leave without saying good-bye.”

“You can meet her at the Refuge—she visits there at least once a year. And Neha cares too much for her to punish her for continuing to see you.”

He stepped off the balcony with those words to come to a graceful landing in the courtyard, wings spread. Surprised, she followed in silence. What’s wrong?

I don’t trust Neha not to shoot us down from the skies.

Mahiya had the same fear—the roof of the fort was spiked with an increasing number of ground-to-air weapons in preparation for Nivriti’s return. It would only take a single “accident” to get rid of an inconvenient angel and the spymaster who protected her. The tunnels, she said. Did Venom give you a map?

Yes. Stay as close to me as you can without entangling my wings.

She discovered the reason for his order a few moments later, when two guards heading in the direction of their palace passed by without so much as a nod, though Mahiya and Jason stood exposed in an alcove just off the path. Guessing they had seen only a smudged pool of darkness, she became Jason’s shadow as they made their way through the fort, their pace cautious but steady.

Rather than crossing the courtyards, Jason took an internal path, going down otherwise deserted corridors and through heavy doors until they exited into a small garden lit only by a spare number of tea candles. It was, she remembered, an adjunct to a disused palace. As evidenced by the candles, the garden was utilized by the odd pair seeking privacy, but no one sat on the benches tonight.

Jason halted in the darkness outside the door through which they’d come, and she saw shadows swirl around the candles a moment later, eclipsing even that muted light. Can you see?

Not well.

A warm hand gripped hers.

Moving with the feline grace of a man at home in the moonless night, Jason led her to the center of the garden and to the pedestal on which stood a statue of an unnamed angel, her wings spread in readiness for flight. A twist of the statue’s right wrist, followed by a hard pull on her opposing wing, and one side of the pedestal slid open. The doorway was narrow, this entrance not meant for a being with wings, but Mahiya bit back her incipient claustrophobia and walked in, Jason’s body heat a subtle reassurance as he entered right behind her.