“Do it.” Raphael had appreciated Dmitri’s tactical mind many times over the centuries, but never more than today. “No one wants to accept that an angel barely over five hundred years old could ascend. All we have to do is provide an alternative explanation.”
Elena picked up one of the photographs after Dmitri left. “Raphael, is it my imagination or are you stronger?”
Of course, his consort would feel the change. They were too intimately entwined for it to be otherwise. “What I drew from Illium didn’t leach off. It’s become woven into my body, an auxiliary generator of a kind.”
Dropping the photograph, Elena faced him, her boots touching his. “If Caliane’s power transfer theory is right, then Illium became more temporarily because you need more power than you can generate on your own.” She spread one hand protectively over his heart, brushing the thumb of her other over his right temple, over the Legion mark. “Something bad is coming. Worse than before.”
Enclosing her in his wings and his arms, Raphael didn’t say anything. They both knew she was right.
A dangerous near ascension that could’ve annihilated an entire city.
Two Ancients walking the earth.
An archangel who could give a twisted form of life.
The Cascade was gathering momentum.
Beijing was already gone. New York and Elijah’s territory had barely survived. No one could predict how much of the world would be left standing when the Cascade ended.