Angels Dance

out and over the gorge. The younger angel headed into the clouds and across mountains where no one and nothing lived.
    “A woman,” Dmitri said from beside him, the wind lifting his black hair off his face to reveal “a dangerous male beauty”—or so Galen had heard it said by more than one woman, angel and vampire both. What Galen saw was a ruthless kind of strength, strength that demanded respect.
    “Mortal,” the vampire added.
    Galen might not know how to talk to women outside of other warriors, but no one had ever accused him of being stupid. “You worry for him.”
    Dmitri’s gaze lingered on the clouds where the angel had disappeared. “Mortals die, Galen.”
    Galen shrugged. “So do we.” The mortals called them immortal, but angels and vampires could die—it just took a great deal of effort. “Does she make him happy?”
    “Yes. Too much.”
    Galen didn’t ask him to elaborate. He’d known immortals who had fallen for mortals, seen how they mourned when those bright firefly lives were extinguished. He’d never felt such depth of love, but he could comprehend grief. “Jessamy,” he said, his mind on a woman who wasn’t mortal, but whose slender form seemed far too vulnerable for his peace of mind, “does she have a lover?”
    Dmitri’s sophisticated elegance broke to reveal utter astonishment. “What?”
    “Jessamy,” he repeated patiently. “Does she have a lover?”
    “She’s the Teacher .”
    “She’s also a woman.” And if the men around her had been too stupid to notice, Galen wasn’t going to lose sleep over it.
    A startled pause, a shake of Dmitri’s head that had blue– black highlights glinting in the sun. “No,” the vampire finally responded, “she doesn’t have a lover as far as I know.”
    “Good.”
    Dmitri continued to stare at him. “You do realize she’s over two thousand five hundred years old, speaks at least a hundred languages, and has such a depth of knowledge the Cadre comes to her for advice and information?”
    Galen had no doubt all of that was true. “I don’t intend to get into an intelligence contest with her.” No, he wanted her in a far more primal way.
    Dmitri blew out a breath. “This should be interesting.”
    They watched several angels wing their way out of the aeries that lined the gorge, the light making their wings shimmer and glitter. “Trust,” Dmitri said when the last of them rose up into the cerulean blue sky, “is earned.”
    “Understood.”
    “For now, you’ll remain in the Refuge, charged with training the young ones who have joined Raphael.”
    “They say Lijuan likes him,” he said, mentioning one of the oldest members of the Cadre.
    “She might not wear cobras like Neha,” Dmitri muttered in a voice stripped of all traces of civilization, until it was a naked blade, “but Lijuan is no less poisonous.”
    Galen thought over what he knew of Lijuan, realized it wasn’t much. “Such information was not shared with me in Titus’s court. If I am to be a true weapons-master, I must know of the politics that might inform tactics.”
    Dmitri’s smile was slow. “In that case, you should talk to Jessamy.”
    Folding his arms, Galen met the vampire’s innocent gaze. “Should I?”
    “What many don’t know is that aside from being the Teacher, Jessamy keeps our histories. I’d say there’s no one better if you want to learn the subtleties of the politics that underpin and maintain the balance in the Cadre.”
    Galen knew Dmitri was amusing himself by pointing him in Jessamy’s direction, but he now had a reason to be in her company. Nonetheless, he said, “Have you forgotten that I am quite capable of killing you?”
    “That was a lucky strike, Barbarian.” The vampire thrust a hand through his hair, said, “Your skills as weapons-master may be necessary sooner than you realize,” in a far more serious tone. “Alexander has begun amassing his army—he has never believed Raphael should have become Cadre at so young an age, and now it seems he is willing to use force to impose his will.”
    Alexander was the Archangel of Persia, had ruled for thousands upon thousands of years. “He’s stronger than Raphael.” Age had edged his power to a piercing gleam.
    Dmitri’s expression was inscrutable. “We shall see.”
    Galen wondered if Dmitri had told him of the looming war only because it was already being whispered of among the populace. It was no secret. But then, as the vampire had made