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Archangel's Legion(108)

By:Nalini Singh


“No,” Titus said. “The men I have in his court confirm this. Charisemnon’s power is now apparently much faded from overuse, but he has a stable of infected from whom he takes blood to infect more, continuing the cycle—he has somehow convinced his ground troops they die in the cause of protecting their territory.” Titus rubbed his face in a rare gesture of fatigue. “I ask you now if he initiated the Falling, for if so, we are even more vulnerable than I believed.”

“We have no proof, but believe the indications are there.”

A deep groove formed on either side of Titus’s mouth. “That he strikes so viciously at you, while only harassing me, means he must’ve thrown his lot in with Lijuan. I would stand with you in the war against her, Raphael, were Charisemnon not sitting on my border waiting for me to blink.”

“The information you’ve shared is worth as much.” It gave him the name of his secondary enemy, Lijuan still the most dangerous. “I tell you now that we’ve begun to develop a vaccine—it’ll take time, but my healers say it can be done. Do you wish me to send the information to your own healers so they can join in the work?”

Titus nodded. “Your honor is strong that you share such. I’ll instruct my healers to work with yours in every way.”

Not wasting time, Raphael sent a mental command to the team in the Tower that was working on the vaccine under Keir’s remote guidance, the healer unable to abandon his duties at the Refuge.

“We must stop Charisemnon and the deathmonger, Lijuan.” Scowling, Titus slammed his ceremonial spear to the ground, the lethally sharp tip painted with pure gold. “We are archangels, protectors of the world, and they seek to defile it in their delusion of godhood.” A roar that no doubt shook the walls of his stronghold before he pinned Raphael with his eyes. “I hope you do not fall prey to the same pride.”

“I have no desire to rule the world—but neither will I allow anyone to threaten my territory.” Warrior to warrior, he held the other man’s gaze. “I would call you ally, Titus, and accept your word and any information you pass my way as truth, if you’ll do the same.” To no other angel, even Elijah, would he speak so bluntly, but Titus had no time for double-talk and political subtlety. He would, Raphael thought suddenly, be someone Elena would like, and he had a feeling the admiration would be returned.

Now, Titus made his decision with his customary lack of delay. “The alliance is forged.”

As he ended the call, he thought of a time when Titus had called him a “stripling” and slapped him on the back in congratulations for a bout well played. Now they were allies standing firm against the same deadly threat. Another change, another sign that the world would be forever altered before this was over.


• • •


Eve was lying flat on her back in the middle of the central core of the house when Elena came downstairs at nine in the morning, having caught approximately four hours of deep, uninterrupted sleep. Body and mind both felt refreshed, the emotional stress of the previous day no longer threatening to scrape her raw.

Good morning, Archangel, she said, connecting with Raphael’s mind across the water, the link effortless.

The cool kiss of the rain, the turbulent sea in her mind. Good morning, hbeebti.

Heart warm and a smile tugging at her lips, she walked across the silk carpet to look down at her sister’s sprawled body. “Eve?” she said, noting that the bruise around Eve’s left eye had faded to a sickly yellow-black that denoted healing.

“Hi, Ellie.” The greeting was breathy. “Sorry, ate too many cakes.”

“Did you scam Montgomery?” She didn’t think the vampire had much experience with children, especially smart children—and Eve was very, very smart.

“I didn’t think he’d actually give me cake for breakfast if I said I was feeling sad.” Astonishment on her face. “Or that he’d give me more when I said I was still hungry. I couldn’t not eat it after that. It wouldn’t have been polite after I asked for it.”

Elena’s shoulders shook as she tried to contain her laughter. “Is that why you’re lying on the floor? Because you can’t breathe?”

“Uh-huh.” Eve patted her stomach. “It’s a nice view.”

No doubt she should return to the Tower, find out if the disease situation had deteriorated in the past few hours, but Elena went down to the carpet and said, “Rise up just a little.”

When Eve did so—with a groan—Elena slid her wing beneath her sister’s body, her arm under Eve’s head, and they lay side by side. The skylight above was beautiful, a sparkling shatter of light.