Archangel's Storm

diversion from the memories. “Like a fish. I’ll teach you if you like.” All angels could float, their wings buoyant. However, that buoyancy made athletic swimming, particularly deep dives, difficult. Jason’s parents had taught him tricks to negate the effect, at least for short periods of time.
    “I’d like that.” Mahiya’s smile thawed the ice that had formed in his chest as he spoke of the losses that had forever altered the course of his existence.
    “There is,” he said, tucking her a fraction closer, “as much freedom in the sea as in the sky if you know how to move in it.” Alone and with no parents to become alarmed that he’d gone too far, he’d learned to streak through the deep, his wings slicked to his back.
    Nivriti.
    He released Mahiya at the whisper of wind, folding his wings to his back. “Come.” Walking out and around the shadow-shrouded side of the temple, Mahiya silent as she followed, he looked toward the fort, searching for any sign of trouble.
    He saw nothing . . . not until he swept his gaze to the right.
    The night sky was a sheet of black, the glitter of the stars blotted out by an army of wings. Those wings appeared “wrong” to his vision until he realized they were pure jet. Since no living angel he knew of had wings akin to his own, that meant they had been dyed as camouflage. The vampiric ground guard had to be within minutes of the fort.
    This is madness.
Mahiya’s horrified voice.
Even with this army, my mother cannot hope to take Neha on in combat.
    Jason couldn’t disagree. Impressive as Nivriti’s forces appeared, they weren’t, not in comparison to the garrison that lived in the fort—which represented only a small percentage of the offensive resources at Neha’s command.
You should not watch this.
    No . . . I should be a part of it. I may not know Nivriti, but she is my mother, and Neha has done nothing to win my loyalty.
    Jason turned to pin her with his gaze.
You put yourself on that field, and you do nothing but distract your mother. Neha will use you, make Nivriti watch you bleed. You’re too weak to be anything but a liability.
    Mahiya flinched.
That was cruel.
    Cruelty is sometimes necessary.
    You’re strong,
she retorted.
You could help my mother—but you’re a coward, hiding here.
    He didn’t allow her to see what the mental slap did to him.
The instant I step onto that battlefield, I draw Raphael and all his people into a war.
Thousands, millions would die in the aftermath.
    Mahiya seemed to wilt, her eyes on the black wings on the horizon.
I’m sorry. I knew that . . . I shouldn’t take my anger out on you. Forgive me, Jason.
    He could taste her heartbreak.
It is forgotten.
    Shifting to put her back to the wall, she slid down to sit against it, a desolation in her expression he’d never before seen, that stubborn, beautiful hope close to extinguished.
I’ve waited so long for her, and now she’ll die.
    Jason turned his face toward the skies.
Stay here.
He rose up into the star-studded black before she could question him, blending into the night shadows with an ease that was instinctive. Then he shot straight at the approaching army, their slow, careful pace no match for his speed.
    A cry went up only when he wanted to be seen. Raising a hand to halt crossbows being fired, a woman who was unquestionably kin to Neha cut away from the group to head to him. He felt her mental touch, chose not to acknowledge it.
    Imperious and haughty, she stopped in front of him, fanning her unpainted wings to hold her position. “Spymaster.”
    This woman, he thought, might have given Mahiya the delicate angles of her face, the wild blue and green of her feathers, but she was nothing like the child she’d birthed, her eyes touched with a devouring rage. “You should speak to your daughter before you undertake this suicide mission.”
    Her eyes widened before laughter filled the air, husky and soft. “Ah, such faith.” A twist to her lips. “Lead me to her.”
    Jason was unsurprised both at her lack of worry about a possible ambush, and her complete disregard of his veiled warning to retreat. Love and hate both had a tendency to blind, to destroy reason. “She is not far.”
    Guardian Fort was alive with activity by the time he returned to the temple, and it took a combination of fine timing and luck to bring Nivriti down without being detected. Mahiya wasn’t where he’d left her—she was standing on the steps to the temple, a