Archangel’s Ascension: Chapter 45

Vivek had spoken to Katrina before he’d approached Raphael about leaving the Tower. No matter the roaring need inside him to go with Illium, be part of an adventure unlike any other he might ever encounter, he wasn’t about to jeopardize his relationship with the only woman in the entire world who had seen into every corner of his soul and loved all of him.

Including the old shards of bitterness that had faded with time but would never be erased. Because a man couldn’t simply forget that he’d once been a child abandoned by his family. A child who couldn’t move, couldn’t defend himself. That child had grown into a man who was now a fully trained and lethal hunter with an extraordinary life, but he never denigrated the emotional pain of the person he’d once been.

It had helped shape him—including the need for fidelity that was so important to him.

So, that night, in the midnight hours after Illium’s ascension, he’d lain with his head in Katrina’s lap in the moonlit confines of their lush bedroom while she sat up in bed. She’d been running her fingers through his hair with one hand and answering messages from one of her business managers with the other.

Most of his Kat’s businesses came alive only at night.

He knew why she preferred the night, understood that he wasn’t the only one with shards of bitterness lodged in his innermost psyche. As he’d been a helpless boy once, Katrina had been a young woman with no way to keep herself safe.

“Kat,” he’d said after she put down her phone.

“What is it, lover?” Her head shifting so that he could see those pale feline eyes, her hair a midnight curtain around them, and the strap of her scarlet nightgown falling off one shoulder to expose the plump curve of her breast.

“Damn but you’re gorgeous. My brain just short-circuited.”

A husky laugh. “You say such things.”

Each and every word was true. Vivek would never get over the fact that she’d chosen to be his all these years. She would never wear his amber, unable to accept such a physical symbol of locking her life to another’s, but Vivek didn’t care. He knew his Kat. She’d murder anyone who dared separate them—and he loved her enough to tend to her wounds as she did his.

“What do you think about moving territories? I know you have so many businesses here—”

“Lover,” she’d interrupted, “I have businesses everywhere. I’ve only stayed in New York all this time because it’s your home.”

Shifting so that he could sit up, face her, he’d stroked her hair back from that astonishing face that had become even more otherworldly in the centuries since they’d first found each other. No one would ever mistake Kat for mortal. The golden cream of her skin was too flawless, the pink of her lips perfection, the pale green of her eyes a rare hue no mortal would ever possess.

But in bed, her hair tumbled and her breasts curving over the lace of her nightgown, she was an earthy goddess. “You wouldn’t mind?” he’d asked. “Because I won’t go without you. Nothing in my life is as important as you.”

A softness to her that Vivek knew he alone was privileged to see. “Your open heart terrifies me,” she’d murmured, leaning forward to brush her fingers down his chest. “And no, I wouldn’t mind. Where are we going?”

That she’d just accept such a huge move without hesitation—and without any foreknowledge of what exactly he planned—simply because it was what he wanted, it destroyed him. His Kat didn’t say as many words of love as he did, but he had no need of them. To have this dangerous power of a woman trust him with such completeness? It said everything.

“I’m going to ask for the position of Illium’s spymaster.”

A sharp inhale, those feline eyes acute with attention. “You do keep life interesting, Vivek.”

Now, mere days later, he stood on distant soil, Katrina’s hand in his. She had long been a creature of decadent gowns, but did alter her fashion on rare occasions. Today was one of those. She’d chosen wide-legged black pants paired with a silken shirt the same shade as her eyes; cuffed at the wrists, it was tied at the neck with a bow.

“Good style,” she’d told him more than once, “never falls out of fashion. What is the point in being immortal if I cannot choose my desired apparel from across time?”

He thought her striking in everything she chose to wear.

She’d put her hair into a sleek roll at the back of her neck for today, wore a stylish and wide-brimmed black hat over it. Her eyes, however, were still his Kat’s eyes—sharp, taking in the activity around Illium’s chosen base command, her mind cataloguing all the information for later use. She’d have made an excellent spymaster herself had she ever had the inclination.

“That one,” she said to him now, nudging her head toward a strawberry-blonde vampire who stood talking to an angel holding a box of supplies. “She’s clever but faithless. Damaged too young—has near-to-no capacity to trust. But she won’t betray Illium.”

Vivek looked at his lover, smiled. “Is she yours?”

A curve of the lips. “We met after the damage. I did what I could, tried to give Ana a chance at a better life, but I couldn’t erase the scars.”

The blonde turned away from the angel then, her eyes landing on Katrina and Vivek by chance. Her steps speeded up and she was almost running by the time she reached them. “Lady Katrina!” A smile so huge, it exposed her fangs. “I didn’t know you were in the territory! Do you know the new archangel?”

“Yes,” Katrina said after she’d embraced the other vampire with warmth and care. “Archangel Illium is to be protected from those who would shake his rule.”

Vivek wondered what Illium would say to the knowledge that Katrina had wrapped him up in her protection. If he knew Bluebell, he’d grin and consider it an unexpected gift.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “I understand, Lady.” A glance at Vivek, a genuine smile, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll cut off your head if you ever harm her.” Turning, she walked away to continue with her duties.

“As I said,” Katrina murmured, “damaged.” A sigh. “But far better than she once was, so we will take that as a win.”

Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you for looking out for my friend.” Because no matter if he had ascended, Illium remained Vivek’s friend. Nothing of their Bluebell’s heart had changed in the ascension—he’d seen that firsthand in the shine in Illium’s eyes when he’d said goodbye.

“He’s important to you,” Katrina murmured before looking back at the activity in front of them. “Go start your setup as I know you’re itching to do. I’ll join you in our assigned apartment later. After I take care of some business, I’ll track Ana down and discover where the gray runs in this city, find us a place to call home.” She didn’t ask if Vivek would join her at that home, for it wasn’t a question that needed to be asked.

Vivek and Katrina were as interlinked as Illium and Aodhan. Where one went, so would the other, their amber an invisible but unbreakable thread. “Till tonight,” he said, his blood buzzing with anticipation.

“Vivek,” Katrina said, her eyes brilliant even under the slant of her hat. “Spymaster to Archangel Illium. Yes, that has quite the nice ring to it.” Long fingers brushing his cheek. “You will make Illium the envy of all the Cadre.”