Archangel's Heart(35)

The thought reminded her of something else.

Sliding out her phone, she went to message Beth of her safe arrival, saw she had no reception. Raphael took the phone when she muttered under her breath, shook his head. “Too many of the Cadre in close proximity,” he told her. “The energy can cause major interference.”

“Damn it. I didn’t think about that.” Putting away her phone, she pressed a clenched hand against her abdomen. “You know how Beth is. She’ll have a panic attack if—”

“It is all right, Elena-mine.” Her archangel cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “I know your sister is a jewel easily broken—I left instructions with Dmitri to ensure she receives a note from the Tower confirming our safe arrival, regardless of whether Dmitri has heard from us.”

Eyes hot, she touched her fingers to the jaw of this deadly being who understood her soul. “Thank you.”

“There is no need. Beth is like the Hummingbird, requires a little extra gentleness,” he said, just as there was a knock on their door. “Aodhan. I invited him.”

No knot in her gut now that she knew Beth wouldn’t be plunged into a horrible nightmare until her return, Elena moved to open the door. “Good plan.” Waving in Aodhan, she said, “We’re snacking before exploring this place. Come grab something.”

“I ate the cheeses and nuts in my chambers,” Aodhan replied, then, as if catching her skepticism, said, “My task is to be another sword at your back. I can’t do that if I’m weak.”

There was no way Elena could disbelieve him. To do so would be to question his strength all over again. “Come in anyway. Tell us what you think of this place.”

Aodhan entered, shutting the door behind him. “It’s not what I expected,” he said, as Elena continued to refuel with single-minded focus.

Raphael kept her company by eating the occasional tidbit she fed him.

“Lumia itself is a construct of beauty and grace,” Aodhan continued. “But there is an odd resonance beneath.”

Elena noticed he was keeping his voice low, only realized then that she and Raphael had done the same since they entered this suite. As if they all believed the walls might have ears.

“The rooms are what you might expect in the home of any angel past six or seven hundred years of age.” Aodhan waved at the fancy furniture, the luxurious carpet. “But the art is missing.”

Elena swallowed the cheese in her mouth, chased it down with water. “Isn’t that held in some kind of gallery?” It’s what she’d assumed when Hannah had spoken about the art she intended to view at Lumia.

Raphael was the one who answered. “Some of it may be, yes. But the walls of Lumia itself are meant to be lined with art, a new wonder around every corner.” He resettled his wings and she couldn’t help but run her fingers over his primaries in a petting gesture that was openly possessive.

It still struck her mute at times that he was hers.

The funny thing was, he had the same response to her.

Eternity would mean nothing without you. For no power on this earth would I trade my Elena.

The memory of his raw words was a crossbow bolt right to the heart every single time.

“The Luminata,” Raphael added, “have collected that art for untold eons. Artists offer them their greatest works, because to be displayed on Lumia’s walls is a great accolade.”

So where, Elena thought, was all that art? Why would the Luminata prefer anonymous hallways that all appeared the same? Why did they scurry about so secretively and watch their visitors from hidden alcoves? Elena might’ve missed the first lot of Luminata until they apparently emerged from the walls, but she’d learned from her mistake. So she knew this place had eyes.

And those eyes raised every hair on her body.





11


The hairs on the back of her neck stayed stiff as they exited their suite.

As they’d already noted, the walls had a seamless sameness that sought to deceive the eye and confuse the mind, their color that of the sand-colored stone mined from the nearby mountains, the doors set into those walls identical. Technically, it was soothing and lovely, but . . .

“It’s like being in a horror movie,” Elena muttered. “Like those scenes where a victim runs frantically down hallways in a hotel where everything’s the same and there’s no way out.”

“What’s a horror movie?”

Elena grinned at Aodhan’s question. “I’ll show you once we get home.” Only after the words were out did she realize she didn’t know which horror might be Aodhan’s own. Raphael, you’re going to have to vet the movies.