Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Because come what may, he knew that piece was his, had been his for a long, long time. What remained elusive was Illium’s trust in Aodhan’s commitment to never again emotionally vanish from his life.
Wait, I’m almost ready, Illium protested. I’d be fully ready if Smoke hadn’t decided to hide my boot. She’s mad at me for sending her ahead in the cargo plane even though I’ve explained that I couldn’t carry her the entire distance home.
Aodhan’s shoulders shook, the urge to cradle Illium’s face in a kiss a near-overwhelming wave. Take your time and give her an extra cuddle. I’ll be waiting for you up there. He wanted Illium to have this moment, get a glimpse of just how important he was to the Tower and to the people who called it home.
Oh, great, I just realized she’s dragged my forearm sheaths off the bed and to parts unknown. I was planning to wear those.
Chuckling quietly at Smoke’s antics, Aodhan stepped out on to the balcony closest to his suite, and spread his wings for the short flight up. The night air had a biting freshness that came only after a storm, and the city sparkled like stars strewn onto the earth, the darkness concealing the continuing scars from the war.
The area Raphael had been forced to cleanse with angelfire remained a dead patch where neither mortals, immortals, nor the creatures of nature wanted to go. Several skyscrapers were yet in the demolition phase, and certain roads were still being laid, and those were by no measure all the marks the war had left on the city.
New York, however, was taking it in stride. They’d all seen what had happened in China; compared to the horror of that silent landscape devoid of its people, its cities empty of life and its landscapes vicious with murderous traps, this was nothing. New York would rise again, and it would rise even brighter and more defiant.
After doing a wide sweep to take in more of the view, he ended up on the roof—to see that Montgomery had set up several strings of glowing bulbs across the roof, the ends anchored on heavy stands usually stored in a basement area. But the butler had been judicious—the lights were muted and created only a gentle glow in the corner set up for the party. The rest of the rooftop remained in shadow, lit up only by the stars.
Aodhan landed at the same time as Galen, who’d arrived from the other direction. Raphael’s weapons-master was in formal leathers of deep bronze, his thickly muscled arms bared to reveal the amber amulet he wore around his left biceps.
Red hair tumbled from the wind and eyes of pale green awash in light, he looked far better than the last time Aodhan had seen him in person—in the direct aftermath of the war.
“Aodhan! At last I can welcome you properly home!”
“It’s good to see you, my barbarian friend.” Aodhan reached out to exchange the forearm grip of warriors with him, because in this, he had to make the first move.
No matter that he’d embraced Naasir and had been embraced by him, touch was still a complicated morass for him, but this was one of the Seven, a man who would die for him without hesitation. As Aodhan would for him.
They’d stood back to back in battle often enough, ready to ward off blows to protect each other. What then, was such contact, against the depth of their shared trust? The time would come when he wouldn’t have to rationalize tactile contact—Aodhan was determined that would be so—but for now, it helped him to make a conscious choice each and every time.
There is a mortal saying, Aodhan. Keir’s gentle voice, the healer’s sensitivity innate. A strange and lovely one for a species that lives but a heartbeat compared to our endless existence. They say that life is a marathon, not a sprint. In your case, endurance and thoughtful steps forward will win over reckless speed.
Tonight, Galen accepted Aodhan’s offered forearm with a grin, theirs having always been the friendship of compatriots. While Galen was older, he’d joined the Seven after Aodhan was full grown. “Naasir and I both have to head back after two nights, but neither one of us was going to miss this, no matter how short our stay. Trace’s stepped in to cover, with assistance from Nimra and Noel, who happened to be on a visit to the Refuge.”
Aodhan glanced around after they broke the arm clasp. “Where’s Jessamy?”
“Walking up with Vivek—they had historical data to discuss. Jason’s deputy has managed to dig up scans of books long believed lost.”
A glimpse of silver in Aodhan’s peripheral vision, Naasir walking out onto the roof hand in hand with Andromeda. He’d changed since he’d come to see Aodhan, now wore blue jeans and a black blazer over a black shirt.