Angels' Flight

prepared for the harshest of conditions.

“Jessamy.”

She halted with her quill held above the page, finding herself looking into the lean face of an angel who was older than her by five hundred years. Not a pretty man, but one who had the kind of compelling presence that came with being honed by time and experience. “Yes?”

He held out a hand. “I would take you into the sky.”

Galen wanted to force spring out of the earth, not that it would do any good. He had to remain in the territory for another season, to ensure everything he’d taught had sunk in. “I’ll return when needed,” he said to Raphael, pacing across the cliffs that afforded a clear view of the Tower rising from the island on the other side of the powerful crash of the river. “But I’d like to be based at the Refuge.”

“I have no argument with that,” Raphael said. “I need at least one of my trusted senior people in the Refuge at all times.”

Trust had not only deepened, but become rooted between them. Still, Galen wondered if he’d have a subtle watch on him in the Refuge now that he’d have so much power. It was what he’d have done, and he told Raphael that. The archangel raised an eyebrow. “You make me stronger, Galen. That makes you a target. Be careful.”

“No one will ever take me unawares.” It wasn’t arrogance— he knew his strengths as he knew his weaknesses. Thanks to Jessamy, Dmitri, Jason, and Raphael, he was no longer a novice when it came to sensing and swiftly strangling subtle political intrigues that could steal even an immortal’s life.

Raphael’s hair blew back in the breeze. “Illium returns with you. He fades with the sorrow of being far from his mortal.”

“Would it not be better to keep him here?”

“Is that the choice you’d make?”

Galen thought of his tearing need to see Jessamy, considered what it would be like to know she would disappear from existence in but a mere whisper of time. “No. It would be cruel.” If Illium had only a whisper, that whisper should be his.

Raphael said nothing, but Galen knew the archangel was in agreement. There was cruelty in Raphael, that of immense power, but there was also a capacity for loyalty that spoke to the warrior in Galen. There would be no knife in the back from this archangel.

“Tanae,” the archangel said some time later, “has asked permission to enter my territory.”

“I see.” Meeting eyes of a blue Galen had seen on no other, mortal or immortal, he knew the request had been granted.

His mother, when she arrived at the Tower, was the same woman, the same warrior, she had always been, but he saw her through different eyes now.

She found herself facing a man who has no need of her support in any sense, he wrote to the woman who had taught him that he was worth loving exactly as he was, and she floundered, returned to Titus’s territory. But perhaps it is a start. We may yet find a new path.

Closing the letter, he didn’t write the one thing that screamed inside of him.

Wait for me, Jess.

Jessamy saw the silhouettes of two angels far in the distance, backlit by the setting summer sun. She shaded her eyes, trying to glean their identity, but the sun’s blaze turned their wings a uniform fire, except… she knew. She knew. Running toward the edge of the cliff with little care for the treacherous ground, she waited with her hands fisted in the sides of her gown.

A beam of sunlight, hitting the pure red of hair that felt like silk against her palms.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, she was barely aware of Illium peeling off to head down toward the human village some distance away. Her eyes were only for the lover who had finally come back to her. Flying to the edge of the cliff, he caught her as she jumped without hesitation, and spiraled down the gorge to the edge of the river that foamed over rocks and ran sweet and clear in the shallows.

“You’re home. You’re home.” She kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, any part of him she could reach. “I missed you so.”

It undid Galen, the depth of joy in the brown eyes awash with tears that met his gaze. Crushing Jessamy to him, he took her mouth, took her words, took her. “I don’t care,” he whispered, hoarse, rough, demanding, “who courted you while I was gone. I’ll be the only one courting you now.” He’d thought to give her a choice, but found he didn’t have that in him. “I’ll love you until my dying breath, give you anything and everything you want.”

“Poetry again. It’s not fair.” A trembling laugh, slender hands petting his chest as she was wont to do. “I have not flown since you left.” Tender words spoken with an intimate smile. “Will you court me in the skies?”

Stricken, he said, “I would never ground you.” Regardless of his jealousy.

“I know. Oh, I know.” Rubbing her wet cheek against his chest, she said, “I couldn’t bear to be in anyone’s arms but yours.”

“Jess.”

It wasn’t until much, much later, with the night soft and warm around them that Jessamy rose from the tangled sheets of the bed, and walked to the dresser in the corner. “What are you doing?” he asked, lying on his front watching the woman who was his own with possessive eyes. Her moon-shadow was as slender as a reed, her skin shimmering pearl bright, her feathers lush, strokable, exquisite.

Unashamed of her nakedness, she gave him a sweet, shy smile as she returned to the bed. “I have something for you.”

When he went to get up, she shook her head. “Stay. I like looking at you.”

“Good.” He bared his teeth. “I would keep you naked if I could.”

“Primitive!” Laughing, she slid something under his bicep and brought it around to click it shut. “Too tight?”

Looking down at the thin metal band that circled his upper arm, he shook his head. “I’m already tied to you, my demanding Lady Jessamy.” By bonds nothing would ever break. “Now you use manacles on me?” It was a tease, because he’d discovered he enjoyed teasing his historian.

“Hush.” She petted the metal. “There’s amber in the amulet.”

Wrenching her down below him, he covered her body with his own. “Are you claiming me, then?” Amber was for the entangled, a warning to others to keep their hands off.

Huge brown eyes met his. “Yes.”

He’d never been more delighted in his life. “Does the amulet have any other meaning?”

She blushed. “It’s silly… a mortal thing. A wish to keep you safe.”

Stroking her hair off her face, he nuzzled at her, and knew he’d never again wander forsaken, looking for a home. “Will you wear my amber, Jess?”

A smile that told him he was loved, was hers. “Always.”