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)
“Come, small sparkles.” A wicked grin that wasn’t quite civilized. “Today I’ll show you a snow tiger.”
A memory from a lifetime ago that had him jerking toward Naasir. Who hugged him as fiercely as he’d done when Aodhan had been a “cub,” curious and trusting. When a purr vibrated in Naasir’s chest, far deeper and more of a rumble than with Smoke, Aodhan felt emotion lodge in his throat. Very few people knew Naasir could do that, but Aodhan had heard the sound before…when Naasir had been attempting to soothe the hurt of the child Aodhan had once been.
“Do you still think of me as a cub?” he asked as he drew back, a rasp in his voice.
Naasir’s shrug was languid, his voice holding a growl as he strolled into Aodhan’s suite. “No. Cubs grow. You’ve grown strong and dangerous.” Then he paused. “But when you’re hurt, I remember the cub you once were, so small and wild inside your skin. As I remember the wounded fledgling we found.” A piercing look. “You’re better. Not all better, but closer to it than before.”
“Yes.” Aodhan looked at the door Naasir had closed behind him. “Where’s Andromeda?”
“Running a bath.” Naasir’s voice held the smug contentment of a man who adored his mate and was quite certain he was adored in turn. “I’ll disturb her once she’s in it.” A grin as wicked as that from Aodhan’s memories before Naasir stalked over to haul Aodhan into his arms again. “I have missed your smell so close, small sparkles.”
“Big sparkles now,” Aodhan said past the lump in his throat.
Laughing, Naasir drew back, then prowled into the kitchen, sniffing. “You have a cat?”
“Illium adopted one in China.”
“Cats are the best choice of pet.” He sprawled down in one of Aodhan’s sofas, as feline as Smoke when she was feeling lazy. “Suyin has invited me to visit her territory. Andi wants to go, write this part of China’s history from experience. Is it safe for her?”
Aodhan poured the other man a drink. “Specialty blood from Elena’s café,” he said, holding up a small bottle of obsidian glass imprinted with the logo of the business. “I think you’ll like it.”
Naasir’s lips curled in a dubious expression, but he accepted the glass of rich ruby-red blood, sniffed. He’d only just taken a sip by the time Aodhan sat down with his own drink—a glass of honey mead.
“So,” Aodhan said, “about China—fair warning, I’m on Andi’s side. This history should be recorded by someone on the ground. But danger remains.” Then he told Naasir all he could, both from his own experiences, and from the knowledge Illium had shared with him through his letters. And despite the fact that Naasir had avowed his intention to disturb Andromeda in her bath, he stayed for well over an hour.
Their conversation was of two allied warriors sharing intel.
But when Naasir did leave, it was with a quicksilver smile, the ripple of a tiger’s stripes emerging in the rich brown of his skin. “I’m happy to see you again…small sparkles.”
Aodhan smiled as Naasir disappeared into another suite. With time yet on his hands, he then cleared up a couple of Tower matters he was handling for Dmitri—and all the while he thought of his Blue.
The night murmured a soft dark beyond the windows by the time of the gathering.
Word had come around a half hour ago that, with the rain having passed, Montgomery had dried the roof using secret Montgomery methods, so they could gather there, under the starlit sky. The clouds had faded with the rain, New York sparkling clean.
Exiting his room, he reached out to Illium with his mind. I’m heading up. You can make a grand entrance. Everyone will want to be there to welcome you home. The others had already done so with Aodhan when he returned home, even if those in the Refuge hadn’t been free to travel to the city at the time.
Even had it been possible, Aodhan wouldn’t have wanted a gathering. Not with Illium missing. Because they, each of the inner core of Raphael’s team, played a different role in their group.
Illium wasn’t only Aodhan’s heart. He was the heart of the Seven.
Things didn’t feel right when he wasn’t around, and everyone had mentioned it to Aodhan in one way or another since his return from China. Even Jason, the quietest of them all, had said, “The city doesn’t sing as brightly with Illium gone. Do you feel it?”
The spymaster’s facial tattoo—a true agony to have made permanent—had been stark in the morning light, yet the blackness of his wings remained paradoxically soft enough to merge into that same light. “The wind carries a note of melancholy, a lover waiting for his return.”
Aodhan didn’t hear the winds, not as Jason did, but he knew his best friend was missed, keenly so. There was no one in the entire world like his Blue, and Aodhan wasn’t such a jealous being that he couldn’t share Illium with the countless people who loved him. All he hoarded for himself was that piece of Illium’s heart that would only ever belong to the one he loved for all eternity.