Налини Сингх - Archangel's Sun

He scowled. “I am a god among men.” But he had something far more important on his mind. “Zuri tells me that another week or so and you’ll be back in Narja.”

Sharine inclined her head. “It’ll ease your heart to know that this side of the continent breathes easier. They’ve found hope in the heavy presence of angelic squadrons, as well as the methodical cleanup of reborn nests.”

“Good.” Titus wanted his people to be able to live without fear. “I must continue to fight in the south for weeks to come.” Gut clenched, he said, “Will you be able to stay?”

“No, I must return to Lumia.” No smile now, the remnants of play eclipsed by harsh reality. “All is well there at present, but the world is fragile and Lumia is a symbol. Angelkind needs to see that everything remains stable in that small pocket of civilization.”

Titus had known her answer before he asked; he understood the responsibility she carried on her slender shoulders. “Then I will come to you.” A rough promise. “After this is done, I’ll come to you and we’ll dance in that fire.”

Her eyes glowed from within.

* * *

As it was, fate changed their plans six days later.

The team in charge of discovering the secrets held in the body of Charisemnon’s child contacted Titus with the news that they’d solved the enigma of her blood. Aware he could no longer justify leaving the Cadre in the dark, he flew back home at speed and arrived at sunset to find the northern squadrons settling in.

Sharine was in her suite, preparing to leave for Lumia on the dawn.

Taking her hand, the gauntlet around his wrist and lower forearm catching the fading light, he ran the pad of his thumb over her skin. “Sira called you?” Titus had instructed the healer to share all knowledge of the child with Sharine.

Fingers sliding between his, their hands entwined, she said, “Yes. I went down to the isolation ward after my arrival and had a face-to-face chat, was able to view the results. Have you had a chance yet?”

“Yes, it was my first stop.” Titus wanted badly to close the door to her suite, shut out the world, and just drink in Sharine, but he wasn’t Charisemnon, to wallow in his own desires when the fate of the world hung in the balance. “I must call a meeting of the Cadre.”

A fleeting brush of her fingers on his jaw, then they were moving.

Sharine went once more to take a position in a corner of the meeting room, out of sight of the cameras, but he shook his head. “Stand with me. You are my witness to all that has gone before.” No one would dare call him a liar, but given the utter depravity of what he planned to share, there was no reason not to add another voice to his own. It might stop the inevitable wave of disbelieving questions.

In truth, it was all an excuse; he wanted Sharine beside him.

It took several minutes for the entire Cadre to respond. Each and every one of them had faces worn with exhaustion, though Aegaeon’s grew fiery with new energy the instant he laid eyes on Sharine. “Lady mine,” he began.

“You may address me as Lady Sharine,” was the icy interjection from Titus’s side.

He tried not to look smug.

“Caliane, my friend,” Sharine said with unhidden warmth while Aegaeon was yet gaping at her, “it’s good to see you.”

Eyes of intense, pure blue smiled. “Sharine.”

Since Caliane was the last one to join the meeting, Titus decided to begin without further delay. “Our friend Charisemnon left us another gift.”

As they listened, their faces growing angrier and more tense word by word, he told them of the pregnant infected angel—and of the child she’d borne. “The babe is of Charisemnon’s line and she’s typical of an angelic child in every way,” he said before the more hotheaded among the Cadre could explode at the fact he’d permitted her to live. “A perfect little girl.”

Caliane wrapped her arms around her body, her skin suddenly seeming thin over her bones. “She’s a carrier? Did the mother’s infection spread to her child?”

“No. The babe is a miracle.” A treasure undeserving of Charisemnon. “Her blood holds the cure to the angelic infection.”

A roar of questions.

Titus gave as many answers as he could, with Sharine answering an equal number.

“Yes, I was with the squadron that discovered the living infected angel,” she said after Titus told the Cadre of that angel. “He is the test subject for the cure, and he’s showing visible signs of improvement. Titus and I stand witness to that.”

Titus nodded. “The man no longer appears as if his skin is in the process of rotting. He’ll need much more time before he is himself, but the scientists tell me they’ve run laboratory experiments to test the cure against samples of his infected blood. The cure defeats the infection every single time.”

“Yes,” Sharine said, smoothly picking up the narrative. “Once cleansed of infection, the tested blood has proven immune to any attempts to reintroduce the sickness to it.”

He could see the members of the Cadre—all but Raphael—assessing and reassessing her as she spoke, but the only one in whose reaction he was interested was Aegaeon. The horse’s ass kept attempting to capture her attention.

She was having none of it.

Oh, she answered Aegaeon’s questions, but she gave him nothing more. The blue-green-haired donkey finally got the message and stopped shoving himself to the forefront—but Titus knew this wasn’t the end of it. Sharine was . . . radiant in her full power, and the piece of steaming shat was realizing too late what he’d thrown away.

Today, however, was about an innocent babe.

“We can’t begin this new era by killing a child.” It was Caliane who spoke. Caliane, who’d already admitted that the massacre she’d once orchestrated made her less than an impartial party in such discussions.

Neha, too, nodded. “I’ve had to kill far too many children in the recent past. It is enough.” Her face was haggard, exhaustion heavy on her shoulders. “We must allow this child to live—while maintaining a careful watch and running regular tests to ensure Charisemnon didn’t hide within her, another plague.”

Titus had already considered that the infant might be both a treasure and a weapon. “I propose that we keep her in Charisemnon’s border court for the time being. As young as she is, so long as she has attention and care, she won’t miss the lack of other children.” Angelic children grew at a glacial pace in mortal terms; Sira’s team would have plenty of time to unearth all the answers.

“Does she have a name?” Caliane’s quiet voice. “Every child should have a name.”

“Zawadi.” All this time, in a foolish attempt to maintain distance, he hadn’t given the child a name, but he’d always known what it would be—and his Shari agreed. Her second name would be Asmaerah, the name of the courageous woman who had been her mother.

“A gift,” Alexander murmured. “I hope you prove right to name her thus, my friend.”

“You don’t have the capacity to raise her.” Hands on his hips, Aegaeon filled the screen with himself. “Not with the world as it is.”

True words—just brayed by a self-important peacock.

“One of my people has already bonded to the child and is willing to take the position.”

“She is young and full of hope,” Sharine added. “Most importantly, little Zawadi is happy with her. Titus and I will oversee her care regardless—in saving her life, we took responsibility for that life.”

“When can your scientists send the cure to the rest of us?” Alexander shoved a hand through his hair, the strands overlong in a way Titus had not before seen.

The Ancient hadn’t been the same since he’d carried Zanaya’s wasted body to her place of Sleep. It made Titus believe that Zanaya was to Alexander what Sharine had become to Titus. If so, he could well imagine his friend’s anguish.