Archangel's Heart(102)
“Unpredictable?” Elena suggested. “Sometimes the coloring appeared and sometimes it didn’t?”
“Yes! Unpredictable. But Great-grandmother says Majda’s husband—who she loved like he was the stars and the moon—had golden hair and pale skin like milk with just a little honey, so the baby had a good chance of moonlight hair like yours.”
Elena’s blood ran hot. “Was Majda’s husband mortal?”
A rapid-fire transfer of information before a white-faced Riad whispered, “We’re not supposed to talk about this. I told—”
It was his great-grandfather who spoke now, his voice unexpectedly strong.
Riad’s lower lip shook, the second bun he’d bought forgotten. “He says that they are old anyway, about to head out on the final journey. What can the angels do to them now? They take only the young—the prettiest women and the most beautiful men.” Eyes wet, his distress unhidden.
Touching his shoulder even as fury tore through her, Elena said, “You love them both very much, don’t you?”
A quick nod. “I don’t want the angels to hurt them.”
The angels. The Luminata.
“No one will.” Raphael’s voice silenced everyone at the table. “Tell them this: they are under my protection. I will make certain no one dares lay a finger on them.”
Won’t Charisemnon be an obstacle? Elena asked as a breathless Riad translated.
Charisemnon doesn’t care about a small town. This is Luminata business and that’s who we have to deal with. His jaw set. If need be, I’ll leave Aodhan here to watch over these people until we can return and dig out the rot at the heart of the Luminata.
Elena hadn’t thought she could love Raphael more, but at that instant, her heart overflowed with love and pride both. For this archangel who had compassion enough to treat such fragile mortals with care. Thank you for being you.
Eyes of endless blue met hers. You made me remember myself, Elena. Without you, I might’ve turned as cold as those who would prey on the weak.
Elena thought of the scar on his wing, of why she’d shot him, and felt a chill ripple through her. Never again, Archangel.
You live in me now, hbeebti. He touched his hand to her hair. I cannot ever return to who I once was, no matter what eternity brings.
Quiet words spoken in a feminine voice that quavered drew her attention back to the table. Riad’s great-grandmother was saying something as more tears rolled down her cheeks.
“She says Majda’s husband loved her, too, even though she was mortal and would die while he’d keep living.” Riad listened, then spoke, his eyes huge. “He didn’t want to live without her, but he couldn’t find any angels to make her a vampire like him.”
Another kick to Elena’s heart, another jolt in the bloodstream at the unambiguous statement that Majda’s lover had been a vampire. And he hadn’t simply been her lover. He’d been her husband.
“My great-grandmother says Majda’s husband was strong, but he was just a young soldier who didn’t know anyone so powerful like Raphael.” The last word came out an awed whisper, Riad only daring to look at Raphael through the corner of his eye.
“The angels in that place refused to help him.” The bitterness of his tone made it clear Riad was referring to Lumia. “They said he wasn’t old enough to ask to have his mortal turned into a vampire.”
“Do you have any idea what happened to Majda or her husband?” Elena asked the elderly woman who’d hugged her with such love.
Riad’s quick translation was followed by an answer for which Elena didn’t need a translator. It was a sad shake of the head, the words spoken melancholy.
“She says Majda’s husband went away first, soon after the baby was born.” Riad made “poofing” motions with his hands and Elena understood the vampire had vanished without a trace. “Majda searched and searched for her husband, but when she didn’t find him, she was afraid, so afraid; she said she had to run before she was made to go away, too.”
A deep frown as he listened to his great-grandmother. “They thought the baby was dead when they saw Majda’s ghost years later.”
“Wait.” Elena sat up, a chill running down her spine. “Her ghost?”
“My great-grandmother didn’t see her,” Riad translated. “But some of the other people in town said they saw her running down the hills from that place one night. Her hair, it was so bright under the moon.”
Another biting of his lip. “When the angels heard the whispers, they hurt the people who spoke them, and so no one speaks of it any longer. My great-grandmother didn’t see Majda’s ghost, but she says why would the angels be so angry if it was just stories?” A very teenage shrug.