Archangel's Storm

cold.”
    “A place that no longer exists,” he said gently, and removed the hand she’d placed on his chest . . . to resettle it around his upper left arm, where it wouldn’t get in the way if he had to reach for his sword. “About Arav,” he said, while they were still private, “you have no cause to fear him.”
    “He’s very strong.” The concern in her eyes lingered, grew. “Don’t underestimate him.”
    “I know exactly how strong he is.” Though they’d never met, the fact the man was one of Neha’s generals meant Jason had made it a point to learn about him—and, in spite of his arrogance and posturing, Arav was no peer of Jason’s. “He is like a peacock, spreading his feathers and squawking loudly to distract you from the fact his body is but weak.”
    A stifled laugh, genuine delight that was a kind of music. “I propose a rooster would be the better analogy,” she whispered, “strutting and pecking anyone who gets in his way.” Releasing his arm, she lowered her voice even further as they entered corridors peopled by servants and courtiers both. “He is merely the first. Many will come, hoping to take Eris’s place, or at least the place he would’ve had but for his inability to keep his lusts in control.”
    He saw the speculative glances they attracted, made no move to widen the distance between them, the occasional brush of her wing against his a welcome caress. “Did you ever consider Eris your father in truth?”
    “Not after I realized he wanted me dead.” A false smile for the benefit of those who watched, but the woman with mischief in her voice was gone, washed away on the waves of memory and the cruel reality of life. “I was a child. It broke my heart to realize the handsome man Neha took me to meet every week hated the sight of me. I didn’t understand then that she was using me as a weapon.”
    Jason had always dealt in information, until gathering it was part of his very nature, but he wished he’d remained silent this night and allowed Mahiya’s eyes to laugh awhile longer.
    “Are you close to your father?” she asked, rifling the pages of his own memory.
    “Here, son. You use the string to pull it forward so. Do you see?”
    “I was.” Before his father had been eaten away from the inside out, the progression of what Jason thought of as a disease so slow and stealthy that no one who had seen him had realized the true depth of the demons he fought. “He’s dead.”
    “I’m sorry.” Her fingers alighted for a fleeting instant on his forearm, and he felt the touch all the way to his bones.
    “It was a long time ago.” He’d learned to live with the ghosts. “Tell me about Anoushka,” he said, closing the door on the memories. “Of her relationship with Eris.”
    “I think they may have been close when she was young,” Mahiya said slowly, the scent of her a subtle blend of exotic flowers and some bright spice that fascinated. “But when I knew her, she held him in contempt, considering him weak and spineless. I never saw her betray that to Neha, however.”
    No, Jason thought, Anoushka had been too smart to alienate her mother that way.
    “We’re here.” Mahiya halted before the Palace of Jewels.
    What appeared to be a thousand candles flickered along the outer wall, in alcoves and on special stands, each flame refracted by the diamonds that studded the palace, until the entire building was ablaze, an astonishing work of art. “This,” he said with utmost honesty, “is stunning.” No wonder Neha preferred it over larger, more ornate palaces.
    “Yes.” Mahiya’s reply was soft. “It fascinated me as a child.”
    Something there, a hitch in her voice. But he had no chance to follow up on it, because they’d been seen by the guards. Opening the doors, the two vampires bowed deeply as they passed. Jason was unused to such subservience—Raphael’s Tower functioned in a far different fashion—but he was no longer the uneducated boy-man who’d made his way to the Refuge by shadowing other angels.
    His father had chosen an island out of the way of angelic sky roads by design, and so it was the rare angel indeed who had passed over Jason after he was alone. He’d tried to hail them, but he’d been too small and weak to fly up high enough to catch their attention before they were out of range. So he’d survived, grown stronger . . . and after a while, he’d stopped his attempts to alert others to his existence, and simply