Archangel's Heart

18

A piercing silence.

“Jason got word to me before dawn this morning.”

“How?” Charisemnon sat up in his seat. “Mortal technology cannot presently penetrate Lumia and the borders of the stronghold are heavily patrolled.”

He may as well have called Raphael a liar.

Strangling the ice cold anger that would disrupt the meeting and give Charisemnon a victory, he shrugged and spoke to the room at large rather than deign to respond to an archangel he planned to kill as soon as it became feasible. As far as he was concerned, Charisemnon was a cockroach, a scourge on the earth.

“Jason isn’t known as the best spymaster in the world for nothing.” It was a deliberate dig—Charisemnon had once tried to lure Jason away by promising him lands of his own to rule.

The other archangel had never understood that, to Jason, such an offer wasn’t freedom: it was a cage.

“I don’t care how that black-winged shadow of yours got word to you, Raphael,” Titus said. “I want to know what he said.”

A number of the others nodded, though Charisemnon’s face was rigid, the color of an overripe tomato and as attractive.

“A moment.” Reaching into his boot, Raphael retrieved the thinly rolled map that had been slipped under the door to his and Elena’s suite during the early hours of this morning. Raphael would’ve questioned its veracity except that Jason had reached out with his mind to confirm his presence, before the spymaster disappeared back the way he’d come, a shadow among shadows.

He was no longer anywhere near Lumia, having flown back in the direction of China the instant after passing on the map and the information. His parting words, however, hadn’t been what Raphael expected from his long-silent spymaster. I hope you settle this fast, sire. I wish to return home to Mahiya.

Jason’s princess understood who and what he was, accepted that he needed to travel to distant lands, but she missed him desperately. So much so that when Jason was away, Elena, Honor, and those of the Seven located in New York City, as well as all the other friends she’d made, worked together to keep her company as often as possible.

The last time Mahiya visited the Enclave, she’d told Elena and Raphael that she was training so she could accompany Jason on missions that didn’t require stealth Jason alone could pull off. Your princess is thinking about joining you, he’d said to the other man. Not on this journey. Others.

Jason’s response had been so aggravated that Raphael had laughed—his spymaster had not sounded so very “real” in an eon. Yes, we are in discussions about her plans. She refuses to listen to reason so it appears I must teach her how to be a spy.

The memory of that unexpected interaction faded as he unrolled the map, then rose and used a mere dusting of his power to meld the edges into the stone of the wall behind his armchair. It showed Lijuan’s territory in detail. The fine tide of red that licked at China’s northeastern border needed no explanation—the line was nearly unbroken.

A gasp of sound, erupting from more than one throat.

“Surely that isn’t true.” Michaela’s tone was, for once, pure archangel, no undertone of seduction or nastiness. “Your spymaster has noted cases of bloodlust all along that region? We would’ve heard had it been so.”

“The outbreaks have only ratcheted up in the past forty-eight hours,” Raphael told them, tapping at a red dot on the map. “A dot of this size denotes one or two fatalities.” The vast majority of the dots were of that size.

“Sporadic breaks,” Elijah murmured, two deep grooves between his eyebrows. “Those happen everywhere in the world. The worrying thing is how close the outbreaks are to one another.”

Getting to her feet in a rustle of silk, Neha came over to examine the map more closely, the pleats in front of her sari opening and closing with quiet grace as she walked. “Raphael, are you certain?”

He ignored the biting, jagged edge of her. “You know Jason, Neha.”

A sigh, a nod. “Yes, I know Jason. He wouldn’t report this unless he’d confirmed it twice over.”

Alexander’s silver wings caught the light as he leaned forward, his expression grim. “We have time yet, but not as long as we’d hoped.”

“I refuse to believe this until I see it with my own eyes,” Charisemnon countered, jumping to his feet. “Lijuan deserves that from us. She was the oldest among us until Caliane’s rise.”

“I agree,” Titus said, as Astaad nodded. “It is a titanic decision and we can’t rely only on the word of even the best spymaster in the world.” His dark eyes met Raphael’s. “You understand.”

“Yes.” Not simply for reasons of honor and tradition. “If we make a mistake and place two active archangels in the same territory, we risk igniting a catastrophic war.” The Cadre had to be dead certain that Lijuan had gone into Sleep.

Favashi spoke for the first time. “The tide of blood is concerning, but it is sporadic yet. I say we come to a decision as to what would be the best course of action should Lijuan indeed be in Sleep, then make our inspection. That way, should Lijuan prove to have disappeared, the archangel or archangels in charge of her former territory can take over at once.”

Michaela tapped a finger on the arm of her chair. “Why waste time discussing a ‘what if’ scenario? I say we go to China now, scare the vampires into good behavior, investigate, then make our decision.”

Raphael wasn’t in the habit of agreeing with Michaela, but she was right: why waste time and energy if there was no reason for it?

“There is no decision,” Favashi said, her steel showing. “We are all dancing around the very large elephant in the room.” Her eyes went to Alexander. “You and I are attempting to share a territory that should belong to only one. If Lijuan is dead, I take over her lands and you keep Persia. That is the only viable option.”

Having retaken his seat after Neha took hers, Raphael waited for one of the more land-hungry of the archangels to dispute Favashi’s point. But no one did. I didn’t expect such quick agreement, he said mind to mind to Elijah.

I think the possibility of war is in everyone’s thoughts, and right now, Favashi and Alexander are ripe for it—you cannot put two such aggressive powers next to each other and expect peace.

Still, Raphael responded, Charisemnon seems the kind who would encourage a war that would decimate his enemies.

I see your point. Elijah’s eyes lingered on the Archangel of Northern Africa. We must not forget, Raphael, that for all his faults, Charisemnon has ruled for two thousand some years. He may have more sense in him than we realize.

Michaela waved a languid hand. “Your solution is simple, Favashi,” she said with a smile that was a wonder of physical beauty. “However, there is a reason Lijuan is the Archangel of China—and it’s not because it was the land of her birth. Her territory also includes a significant portion of what was once Uram’s.”

Astaad nodded. “Michaela is right. Lijuan’s is one of the physically largest territories.”

“Michaela’s territory is as large now,” Favashi countered. “She, too, controls a sizable percentage of what Uram once did.”

“But those lands contain areas that are largely uninhabited, and the overall population in Michaela’s lands is in the same vicinity as Astaad’s,” Neha said with crisp pragmatism. “China, in comparison, has the largest number of vampires in the population, and Lijuan was the most powerful among us for a long time.”

That was a very, very good point.

“Are you implying that I can’t control the vampires under my command?” Favashi’s whip of a question was directed not at Astaad but at Michaela.

Titus boomed an answer, his voice echoing off the stone before he tempered it—after he had everyone’s attention. “We are all archangels,” he said. “But I am quite prepared to accept that some of us have more power than others—and Lijuan has proven that multiple times. You are the newest member of the Cadre, Favashi. It would be irresponsible to hand you China and Lijuan’s associated lands.”

Favashi’s face tensed, her bones pushing out against the cream of her skin, but it was Michaela who next spoke—and very strangely for her, she didn’t ask for a piece of the pie for herself, or suggest they redraw the borders of all the Cadre territories. “Lady Caliane,” she said, her tone respectful. “The easiest answer is for you to take over a larger section of Lijuan’s territory, while Favashi oversees the rest.”

Favashi’s angry expression faded into thoughtfulness. “A workable solution,” she said at last. “And your lands, Lady Caliane, are currently the smallest in the Cadre. Such is not respectful to your status as an Ancient.”

The truth was that Caliane didn’t want anything more. The only reason she’d taken over Japan was that she and her people needed a home.

“I have done my ruling, child,” Caliane said, and from her, the world “child” was no insult. In this circle, only Alexander was her compatriot. “Unlike some of my friends”—a glance at Alexander that held dry amusement—“I have no desire to step back into that arena. I wish to live in peace with my people. Japan is enough for me.”

“I think you do not have a choice, old friend.” Alexander leaned forward again, muscled forearms braced on his thighs. “There is a reason that we two are both awake—and I think it’s partly because of this. The world does not need eleven archangels. It needs ten for optimum balance.”

Caliane’s wings glowed with power. So did Alexander’s.

Had any other archangel in the circle done that during a meeting, it would’ve been a sign of aggression. With Ancients, it had become clear that such things were often accidental. They had so much power running through their veins that it poured out of them without their conscious knowledge.

“Alex,” Caliane said softly, “do you not think we should leave the world to the young?”

“Callie, you know we cannot. They have made a mess of it.”

Everyone else in the circle sat in stunned silence. Even Raphael was startled. As he forgot his mother’s age at times, he also never thought of her as young. But once, she must’ve been. Once, she’d been simply Callie, not Lady Caliane.

Now, she laughed, the sound haunting music that made several archangels close their eyes and just listen. “Such arrogance,” she said to Alexander. “We made our own messes and we cleaned them up. We should leave them to clean up theirs.”

Alexander’s smile was open, containing none of the distance so often in it when he spoke to younger archangels. “It is the time of the Cascade,” he replied. “The normal rules do not apply.”

Sighing, Caliane gave a reluctant nod. “Perhaps you are right.” Her expression was quiet for a long moment, the quiet of ages long gone. “I will assist young Favashi to maintain order—and when she is old enough, I will release the lands to her. Will this satisfy the Cadre?”

Favashi’s expression was openly surprised—archangels weren’t known to give up territories they’d claimed. Recovering quickly, she said, “I thank you, Lady Caliane.”

Will you truly be able to work with her, Favashi? Raphael asked. You are used to total control. Like him. Like every other archangel in the Cadre.

Favashi didn’t look at him as she replied. Yes. She is not one of us—she is an Ancient. And unlike Alexander, she truly seems to want to be left in peace. Do you believe she will suddenly wish to rule again?

Raphael thought of the sorrow that sat heavy on Caliane’s heart, the losses that still marked her, the tiredness he glimpsed in her eyes too often, and said, No. So long as you do not encroach on the small territory she has claimed as her own, my mother will assist you as she has stated and leave you alone the rest of the time.

“Well,” Elijah said, “that settles it. Together, Favashi and Caliane are more than strong enough to control Lijuan’s territory.” As he spoke, Raphael realized the other man was one of the archangels who didn’t see Caliane as Ancient first; to him, she would always be the warrior he’d once served. “The only question is whether or not we have the right to dispose of that territory.”

“There is another matter,” Astaad said, looking a little uncomfortable. “If Lijuan is still awake and alive, then we have a serious problem in Persia.”

Tension gripped everyone in a tight fist, because his words were an understatement of the highest order.

“Eleven archangels,” Caliane murmured. “It is not natural. There is no possible way to maintain the necessary distances long term with eleven.”

Alexander glanced at Favashi. “I have no quarrel with you, but I am awake and I want my territory, a territory I ruled for eons before you were born. I will not give it up.”

Favashi’s response was curt. “You’ve made that clear, but I, too, am an archangel.” A reminder that she wouldn’t go down easy. “It does not matter yet. We must resolve the Lijuan question first. At that point, there may no longer be an issue—but if there is, then we will hash out a solution, since the Cadre will already be in one place with no need for a separate meeting.”

“Favashi’s logic is sound,” Astaad said.

Neha nodded, so did Titus, then slowly, everyone else.

“That leaves only one question,” Neha murmured. “How are we to determine whether or not Lijuan is simply recovering from an injury, or if she has gone into Sleep, or perhaps . . . into death?”