Archangel's Heart(75)
Elena nodded. “I still get the creeps if I step into the bedroom to retrieve stuff from the wardrobe.”
“Consort.” Xander bowed in front of her, the movement unexpectedly elegant. “Would you and Aodhan do me and General Valerius the honor of accompanying us for lunch?”
“Only if you promise to call me Elena.”
His pupils dilated to fill his irises, even as a shy delight warmed his skin from within. “Thank you, but my grandfather would be displeased.”
Elena sighed. “Guild Hunter, then.”
“Guild Hunter,” he said with a smile.
“Let’s go grab lunch.” She was starving after missing breakfast.
That lunch was laid out for them on the large dining table in the Atrium. The only other person in the cavernous room right now was Riker, Michaela’s pet vampire propping up the wall beside the inner chamber. Waiting for his mistress.
Elena had a feeling he’d been here since Michaela went in.
Ignoring him when he blew her a kiss, she took in the room in daylight. She’d noticed the glass dome of the ceiling last night, now saw the glass was carved with complex patterns that scattered sunshine on the walls of the room, turning the stone into a living artwork that would change throughout the day.
“Wow,” she said. “I might not have artistry in my veins, but even I know that’s incredible work.”
Aodhan was also staring rapt at the walls. “This is one of Ophelia’s pieces. She was renowned for her light work.”
“She Asleep?”
“I don’t know,” Aodhan said. “She was long gone from the world by the time of my birth, only her art left behind to tell us of her gift.”
A groan of sound, the large doors of the inner chamber opening.
The first to exit was Michaela, a cruel kind of amusement writ large on her features. She was wearing a bodysuit in deepest red, with a skirt of the same color that had a large split along one thigh that revealed her boot-clad leg with every step. Giving the table straining with food a disdainful glance and not even bothering to sharpen her verbal knives on Elena, she walked straight to the other door and out.
Riker followed at her heels.
Astaad exited next, followed Michaela out. His expression was more pained than anything, his fingers rubbing his temples as if to ease a headache.
Other archangels left the inner chamber one by one and they all, each and every one, headed out of the Atrium. Elena didn’t blame them—she’d have searched for clear air, too, if she’d been trapped inside half the day.
Raphael emerged after Titus, Elijah at his side.
Archangel, she said. You want to fly? Then she noticed that his wings weren’t solid anymore. Did that happen in the meeting?
No, just now. He spread them, to gasps from those who’d never before seen those wings of white fire.
Even Elijah looked impressed.
Caliane and Alexander exited as Raphael closed his wings. Caliane’s face went white for an instant. Whatever she said to Raphael, it wasn’t audible, and then Raphael was turning to say something to her in return, his head leaning toward her own.
Mother and son, Elena thought, that’s who they are at this instant, not archangel and Ancient.
Walking around them, Alexander went straight to Valerius and Xander. “Come,” he said. “I need fresh air.”
Elijah was the next to pass. “I assume my consort is in the Gallery?” he said, the power of him shoving against Elena’s senses.
Sometimes, she wondered how Hannah could possibly be with someone so other, then she’d realize Raphael was exactly the same. “You guess right.”
“No, you do not, Eli.” Hannah’s gentle voice from behind them, a smile in her tone. “I was hoping the Cadre would set itself free for a break at midday.” Placing her hands on her consort’s chest, she rose on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his.
They were astonishingly beautiful together, Elijah’s golden hair glinting in the sunlight that came in through the dome and the sharply handsome lines of his face looking down into Hannah’s, her skin glowing with life and her elegance innate, her eyes a luminous dark. What made it even more beautiful were the small smiles on their faces, the smiles of two people who had loved one another so long that they needed to make no big declarations.
“I will paint them,” Aodhan whispered to Elena. “Just like this, with the light from Ophelia’s work scattering a filigree over their bodies and Eli’s wings unfolding unconsciously as if to curve around Hannah.”
“Ah, you must love me then, Hannahbelle.” Elijah’s smile grew deeper, the golden brown of his eyes as luminous as his consort’s. “To have torn yourself away from the art of which you’ve been speaking since the instant we heard of this meeting.”