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)
Asshole.
“Well,” Zanaya said, “that was unexpected.”
Dressed in a shimmering skinsuit of a vivid indigo that left her shoulders bare, she was as stunning as always. She’d pulled her long hair, silver washed through with purple, back in a high tail, leaving her eyes to take center stage. Set against skin of the deepest night, the dark orbs that flickered with light were compelling.
“I do believe, Lady Zanaya,” Illium said, “that I have the distinction of being the most surprised.”
A lyrical laugh from the Queen of the Nile, but it was Illium’s father who next spoke. “How did you hide the increase in your power levels? Why pretend that you weren’t going to ascend?”
Illium wished he could tell the ass who’d fathered him that he’d done it to piss Aegaeon off. Despite the fact they had no relationship beyond that of politeness—which Illium had maintained because he was part of Raphael’s Seven—Aegaeon had apparently been embarrassed that his powerful son had turned out to be a “dud.”
Idiot asshole.
You do realize, Illium—Raphael’s voice in his head, the communication between them seamless after so many centuries—you no longer have to be polite to your father. You no longer risk starting a war between him and I…though I suggest you try not to start a war with him directly until you’re settled.
Illium’s seething gut calmed, a faint smile on his lips as he spoke with all the charm at his disposal, directing his words to the Cadre at large…except for Aegaeon. A subtle insult but one that’d enrage the man Illium had once idolized—until he’d realized that not only did his idol have feet of clay, but that those feet were rotted through.
“I thought I was the outlier in showing early signs of increasing power. I know Lady Suyin didn’t.”
“Just Suyin to you, Illium.” The Archangel of China’s smile lit up the obsidian of her uptilted eyes. “I am beyond delighted to see you on the Cadre, my friend.”
He had once done her a service and she’d told him she’d never forget it. It seemed she intended to keep her promise even now that he’d become a being who could be a threat to her.
“And yes, you’re right,” she continued, her ice-white hair a glossy rain down her back. “While it is said that archangels do sense a rare few who have the potential to ascend, more often than not, it’s a surprise.”
“It was for me,” Elijah said.
The Archangel of South America wore a formal high-necked suit of pale gold embellished with a darker gold that echoed the hue of his hair, his wings held neatly to his back. The suit was cut in angular panels that suited Elijah’s martial nature and evoked the feel of warrior armor, but formal as it was, he had to have come from an event.
“One moment I was a general like you,” Elijah added, “and the next, I was Cadre.”
“First General,” Caliane said with a smile. “You were a first general, Elijah, as was Illium.”
Elijah inclined his head at the woman he had once called sire, his lips curved. “I stand corrected.”
“We knew with Raphael.” This from Alexander, golden haired and silver eyed, and wearing a cream-colored tunic with an open neck that could’ve come from any time.
“It wasn’t simply that both his parents were Cadre that marked him,” the Archangel of Persia continued. “He was a power even as a child, and he kept growing into that power. Never any hint of a plateau.”
A considering glance at Illium. “You’re unique in that you appeared to plateau only to smash right through that plateau after a number of centuries—but you’re also the only one who came into your power during a Cascade of Death.”
“Alex is right,” Caliane murmured, her eyes the same piercing, dangerous blue as Raphael. “The Cascade attempted to force you to become too fast, may have disrupted your natural growth for a period.”
If it had, Illium thought, then he was glad of it. He wouldn’t have wanted to become an archangel any earlier. Even if he’d survived the influx of power, he wouldn’t have had the entirety of his experiences of the past seven hundred years, experiences that gave him both the confidence and the maturity to stand face-to-face with other apex predators and not blink.
You’ve never lacked in courage, Blue. Common sense is another matter.
A memory from his youth, when he’d pushed an off-the-wall scheme far enough to aggravate even his partner in crime. The memory made him want to smile, but it was also a reminder that he’d needed all those years of life to become seasoned enough that no one could use the drop of impulsiveness in his nature against him.
Marduk, who’d remained silent and watchful this entire time, now held Illium’s gaze with the disconcerting directness of his, the ice-blue of his eyes intense in that face primeval and of another time so far in the past that his world wasn’t theirs. “Welcome.” His voice was subterranean caverns and darkest echoes, his entire being as extraordinary today as it had been when he woke out of what had been meant to be an eternal Sleep.