Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139178 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 696(@200wpm)___ 557(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Hannah suddenly looked up, her attention caught by several of the Legion who’d chosen to crouch or stand in the rocky garden that bordered a section of the pathway to the Medica. “Extraordinary.” A breath of a word. “Do you think your Legion would mind if I painted them?”
“You can ask,” Elena said. “Don’t take offense if they don’t answer—they’re still getting the hang of interaction again, after all this time.”
Attention shifting to Elena, Hannah slid her hand into hers. “We’re having babies, Ellie.”
“I can’t wait to meet both our little sparks.” Elena’s face felt as if it might crack with the width of her smile.
Hannah squeezed her hand. “I will do the first sketches of both my child and yours. If Aodhan or Lady Sharine object to the latter, inform them that I will take them on in battle—we’ll meet at dawn, sketchpads in hand.”
Their shared laughter was electric through the serene quiet of the Refuge.
41
Naasir’s firstborn cub has informed me that he’s aiming to join the Seven when he’s of age. The Ancestors help us all.
—Dmitri to Illium (Before the Ascension of the Archangel of Stars)
The next afternoon, Elena sat on a balcony of their Refuge stronghold under a crisp winter sky so blue it hurt. A thick rug insulated her feet against the cold of the stone, and on either side of the balcony stood two enormous clay pots that radiated heat; the old-fashioned heating not only kept her cozy, it was in harmony with the energies of the Refuge.
Most modern tech didn’t do well here long-term.
She’d already visited with Jessamy, but Andi and Naasir were in India helping Venom out with a problem, so she’d catch up with them later.
Trace, suave as always, had kissed her on the cheek with a familiarity that had grown over the centuries, while Yana and the stronghold staff had prepared so many dishes for her for every meal thus far that even the super-parasite hadn’t been able to finish them all.
Majda, Jean-Baptiste, and Eve were to arrive in about ten days, though she was to send them all daily updates—“In case our great-grandchild decides to arrive early,” Majda had said, to Eve and Jean-Baptiste’s fierce nods.
Now, she sat in the late-afternoon sunshine, her legs propped up on the balcony wall that had been put in place a few centuries ago when a member of their staff had a child, and watched her archangel spar with Galen in the sky. Below, the Refuge sparkled white, the temperature cold enough that the snow that had fallen in the night wasn’t about to melt.
“Your papa and Galen missed each other,” she told the baby. “Neither will say it, of course. But they’re not just sire and warrior. They’re friends, and we didn’t stop for long when we dropped by to share the news about you—it’s been more than a year since they’ve had a chance to just hang out alone.”
Lazy limbed in the heat from the clay pots, she nonetheless sensed the stealthy intruder climbing up from the ground floor to this third-floor balcony that overlooked a sheer drop into nothing.
Her lips curved. “You have wings,” she said to the dangerously handsome man with brown skin and silver hair who appeared on the balcony. His wings were a silvery gray at the top that flowed into a pale golden brown.
Those wings were unlike those of angelkind—but they weren’t like the Legion’s leathery ones, either. The closest comparison was probably to Tiamat’s wings, but even that was only a hazy similarity at best. Like Misha’s and Nasien’s, Izar’s wings were covered by the tiniest feathers anyone had ever seen, until they appeared almost like a pelt. Those feathers also altered color and pattern if you caught one of the triplets at just the right moment, the moment when their skin rippled with a tiger’s stripes—because that stripe would appear in their wings, too.
Elena only knew that because she’d known the boys since they were children, before they’d gained full control over their half-chimera abilities. These days, they preferred to maintain their secrets…from everyone but family.
Izar shrugged, his shoulders pure lithe muscle under the sleeveless cream-colored tunic he wore with rugged black pants. “Climbing is more fun.” Then he pretended to pounce down from his crouch on the balcony wall—except, of course, she’d never been in any danger, because he made sure to land sleek as a cat next to her, before he went down on his haunches to look at her belly. “There’s a cub in there.”
When she reached out to stroke her fingers through the heavy silk of his hair, he turned into the touch, letting her pet him in a way that would get other hands bitten off. As with Misha and Nasien, she’d held Izar when he was a baby. Later, after they were old enough, the triplets had spent summers at the Tower.