Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(16)

Stepping far too close to her, his bare upper body a sensual temptation she had to gird herself to resist, Naasir said, “What does Dahariel ask in return?”

Andromeda’s heart squeezed, the ache deep and old. “Nothing,” she whispered, remembering what Dahariel had said to the girl she’d been.

Maybe you are my one good deed. But there is only so much good in me and I’ve spent it all on this—expect nothing more.

“We should get some rest,” she said, to stop Naasir from following up on her answer. “We start the hunt tomorrow.”

Naasir didn’t get out of her way. Reaching out, he curled an escapee tendril of her hair around his fingers. “Tell me of the Grimoire.”

Andromeda didn’t back away. That would give the wrong signal to this vampire who wasn’t a vampire. He was a predator and she did not want to become prey. “It is legend that the Grimoire was a record of secret things, beings, and treasures, all of which have been long lost in time.”

Naasir tugged on the tendril he’d captured. “You like secrets?”

“I like hunting them.”

A wicked, dangerous smile. “So do I.”

Somehow, Andromeda didn’t think he was talking about the kind of slow, methodical research that was her preferred method of the hunt.


*



Dawn came in soft washes of color on the horizon. After speaking to the guards on duty at Raphael’s stronghold, where she was currently staying, Andromeda took a walk along the top of the cliffs that overlooked the gorge. Since she had no intention of being kidnapped by Lijuan’s people, she stayed within sight of the stronghold and the guards.

Yes, she could defend herself with the knives she wore strapped to her thighs under her airy mint green gown, but she wouldn’t win against a squadron of trained warriors. Better not to take the risk—and it was no hardship to keep her morning walk to this part of the Refuge. It was peaceful, few angels having yet left their homes or aeries, while none of the vampires in the Refuge seemed to be up and about.

In the calm, she found her center again.

Discipline. Serenity. Learning.

The three foundations on which she’d built her chosen life.

Wild silver eyes and a sword dance that still made her breath catch.

Andromeda shook her head, fisted her hands, and closing her eyes, drew deep of the crisp air of a mountain dawn. There was no room in her life for Naasir’s brand of wildness; she only had two precious weeks to build emotional shields tough enough to survive five hundred years in hell. Those shields had to be created of absolute discipline and steel will.

Feeling the slap of wind against her cheek that signaled a nearby angelic landing, she opened her eyes. She was determined to be polite in spite of the rudeness of such a close landing, but her polite smile disappeared the instant she saw the razor-sharp cheekbones and red-streaked dark gray wings of the black-haired angel bare inches in front of her.

Xi. One of Lijuan’s generals.

Andromeda didn’t hesitate; she stepped backward off the cliff and snapped out her wings . . . but Xi hadn’t come alone. Panic buffeted her as her wings were caught in the fine threads of the net that had been waiting for her. There was no chance to recover or to go for her blades. They had her tightly wrapped within heartbeats.

Then the entire team dropped to the bottom of the gorge at dangerous speed. She screamed the whole time not out of fear but in an effort to give the guards sounds to follow, though her pragmatic side told her it had all happened too fast. The guards probably hadn’t even made it to the top of the cliff yet. And there was little chance of anyone else hearing her—almost no one flew this low in the gorge, so low that she could feel the spray of water from the thundering river beneath.

Xi’s men and women had to have been watching her, had to have learned her habits.

Her hard-fought discipline and allegiance to order and routine had been used against her.

Face pressed uncomfortably against the netting, she managed to insinuate her hand down her side to her thigh and pulled out one of her two blades. It was viciously sharp but when she tried to hack at the netting, she made no progress. Metal filaments, she realized. That was why the strands felt like they were cutting into her skin. She wasn’t getting out of this until Lijuan’s people unwrapped her.

She worked to hide her knife again. Since she never practiced in the public training areas, Xi might not be aware that she wasn’t a soft target. If they didn’t search her on landing at Lijuan’s Refuge stronghold, she could use the blades to help in her escape. While not as confident with them as with a sword, she’d been sparring with Venom since his arrival and he’d taught her a few sneaky tricks.

However, as the minutes passed and the terrain changed below her, she realized they were leaving the Refuge. Her heart chilled at the only possible explanation. She was being taken directly to Lijuan’s citadel, a place where she had no friends, no allies, and that was reputedly far from all civilization.

A place where the living were sacrificed, and the dead walked.





5


Naasir caught Andromeda’s scent on the breeze as he went outside, was about to follow it when he saw a small body flying frantically not far from him. Frowning because he knew the cub was far too young to be up so early and because he could smell the acrid bite of fear, he ran after the child and lunged up to catch one small ankle in his grip.