Archangel's Heart(61)

Not all the hunters in the Guild were mortal now, but since Izak’s tutors all were, that was a nonissue. “Angels can survive a crossbow hit,” she pointed out. “Mortals mostly can’t—so hunters learn to be very, very, very good at hitting the other party first.” Survival instincts gave mortals an edge immortals simply didn’t possess, especially when young.

Valerius nodded slowly, and though his expression remained reluctant, it wasn’t intransigent in the way of some of the older angels. “Galen is in agreement with this?”

“He’s the one who suggested it.” Galen was always aware of the best resources in Raphael’s territory, whether mortal or immortal, and he utilized them well. “We’ll see you in the Gallery?”

Xander and Valerius nodded before they headed off down a hallway to the right, Xander taller and more slender in comparison to Valerius’s more solidly muscled form. She saw the boy ask the general something, heard the deep rumble of Valerius’s reply. They disappeared from sight after making a turn off the hallway.

“Do you know the way?” Elena asked Aodhan. “I forgot to ask Hannah.”

Shaking his head, Aodhan said, “I haven’t worked out all the symbols. But there are Luminata everywhere. We can ask one.”

Elena had noticed that, too—the Luminata were everywhere. “Guess they don’t all have the same meditation times,” she said, thinking back to what Gian had said.

“Or it’s used as a convenient excuse when needed.”

Elena sighed. “Damn it, Sparkle. Don’t go cynical on me.”

Shooting her as close as Aodhan ever came to a glare, he said, “Illium is a bad influence on you.”

“Way I hear it, he’s been a bad influence on you since you were tiny tots.”

A deep smile that creased his cheeks, his beauty once more stealing her breath. “We took turns.”

Around them, Elena was aware of the Luminata going motionless—yeah, Sparkle’s smile had a certain effect. “Let’s stop one of the brothers who isn’t trying to be stealthy.” No reason to tip their hand, showing these men that Elena and Aodhan were highly conscious of being shadowed.

The one they approached was heading down the corridor toward them. About Elena’s height, his face was in darkness because of his hood, his wings covered. However, when they asked about the Gallery, he immediately pushed back the hood. And his smile, it was a bright thing, his teeth white against skin of darkest mahogany and his black hair cut close to his skull, his cheekbones like razors, his eyes a startling sky blue.

She was surrounded by pretty men today.

“If you would not mind the company,” he said in a mellifluous voice, “I would be happy to guide you.” His expression turned apologetic. “I’m afraid the Gallery is deep in Lumia, the route to it complicated. We would protect our treasures from all possible natural threats.”

“We’d love it if you came along,” Elena said. “This place is a maze. Fun to explore, but I can see how we could end up going around in circles.”

“Yes, it took me a year to learn how to navigate it,” their guide admitted. “I used to constantly end up doing my brotherhood meditations in the hallways because I couldn’t make it back to my room in time.”

A silvered chime sounded in the air.

“The breakfast bell for us,” their chatty guide said, beginning to walk. “I will go there after taking you to the Gallery. We breakfast long here, brothers coming and going as they finish their personally chosen meditations.”

Elena had her guard up so high she could barely see over it, and still she found herself wanting to like this angel who seemed an open book. “I don’t suppose you have a historical map of Lumia we could see?” she asked because, hell, why not? “It’d be interesting to see how the place has changed over the years.”

“I do not know of one,” the Luminata said slowly, “but I will search the Repository of Knowledge for you.” A smile so honest and innocent that Elena was suddenly afraid for him. “I am Ibrahim, Consort.”

“Elena.” She glanced to her left. “You know Aodhan?”

“We have not met but yes.” He and Aodhan acknowledged each other. “We carry pieces of your art in the Gallery.”

Aodhan tilted his head to the side. “I would’ve thought my age would disqualify me?”

“No, my brothers who are in charge of the art archive judge only on the merits of the work—and you are a student of the Hummingbird.” A smile that held shy admiration. “I am but an initiate yet learning of art, but in my opinion, you are the best student she has ever had. You have taken her teachings to heart but you haven’t tried to emulate her. You are Aodhan as she is the Hummingbird.”