Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(47)

“Holy hell.” Elena whistled. “Do you think she was just laying the groundwork when she lied to us? So no one would believe it when it happened?”

Raphael shook his head. “Immortal pregnancies are too rare to be predicted with any accuracy. There is a second possibility.” He thought of how he’d found a wounded Michaela with a glowing red fireball in the bloody cavity where her heart should’ve been. “Whatever it is that Uram did to her, it may be starting to show on the surface.”

“Can we confirm either way?” Elena shook her head almost before the words were out. “If she’s hiding because she’s vulnerable, let’s leave her be.” His consort’s throat moved in a convulsive movement. “I’ll never forget how she looked that night in the Refuge when Sam was taken. I’ve always wondered if it was losing a child that made her so mercenary and heartless.”

Raphael’s heart wasn’t as soft as his consort’s, and he didn’t think motherhood had or would change Michaela, but if she was in fact with child, he hoped the infant would escape being warped by Uram’s poison. “If she is pregnant, it may be another Cascade event,” he said, his mind on Illium’s struggle to hold the deadly levels of power building up in his body.

Elena blew out a breath and leaned against him. “Have you heard from Jason or Naasir?”

Spreading his wing to slide over hers, Raphael nodded. “Jason is safely out of Lijuan’s territory and is carrying a wounded hostage.” A woman who’d been thought long dead. “No word from Naasir and the scholar.”

Elena’s hand curled around his. “It’s Naasir. He can get out of anything.” Fierce belief, but below it was a dark worry.

Thinking of the black ash in Titus’s hand, Raphael knew she was right to worry. Naasir was strong and fast and highly intelligent, but he was currently trapped in the heart of enemy territory, and that enemy did not fight according to any known rules of war.





18


Naasir followed the faint smell of mortal food to a tiny settlement on a riverbank. Only three houses, all spaced generously apart, two with small fishing boats moored to rickety docks in front of the houses.

The farthest house had smoke coming out of the chimney and a neatly tended garden. That house was the source of the cooking and food smells. An old man and woman sat eating from small bowls on the porch of the house next to it. Both were wrinkled like walnuts and appeared as if they’d laughed for a lifetime.

Naasir smiled at seeing them. He would like to laugh a lifetime with his mate.

Turning his attention to the third house, he drew in a breath, caught no fresh scents.

Prowling around the backs of the houses, out of sight of the mortals, he listened at the door of the third house and heard only silence. No breathing within, no heartbeats. When he turned the handle, it opened without resistance. Walking in, he saw it was empty but clean. There was a bed and he found sheets in one cupboard, plates, cups, and utensils in another, but saw no signs of recent habitation. No food anywhere, no towels hung out, the fireplace neatly swept out and cold to the touch.

It was probably a hunting or fishing cottage, he thought, catching faint traces of old animal and fish blood on a table on the back porch when he ventured out again. The other two with their thriving gardens looked like permanent homes, but this one had an empty yard overgrown with grasses and weeds. A little more investigation and he found a small boat garaged neatly in a tin shed, as if its owner had put it away for the season.

Deciding it would be a safe enough hiding place since he’d hear anyone who attempted to come in, he prowled away as soundlessly as he’d arrived and made his way back to Andromeda. He couldn’t see her at first, but he could scent her. Grinning because she was smart, he looked up and there she was, sitting on a branch. “I’ve found us a hide,” he said.

She jumped off, using her wings to balance herself. “I might need some food,” she said apologetically. “I’m burning more energy than I usually do, and I’m too young to go without food for long.”

He’d already worked that out. If she didn’t feed, she’d start to weaken, her body cannibalizing itself from the inside out. “I have a plan.” He waved at her to follow him. “Be a shadow.”

She was too noisy to be a shadow but it didn’t matter. By the time they arrived, the two fishing boats were gone and all was quiet. He stealthily checked the houses to ensure no one had stayed behind—or had entered the empty house since his departure.

Only once he was certain all was clear did he take Andromeda to the house. “Stay here,” he said, palming a small knife he’d earlier seen on the kitchen table. “I’ll get food.”

She shook her head. “We can’t steal from these people—they look as if they have little enough as it is.”

“I won’t. Trust me.”

A small nod. “I can see a fishing pole there. I might try with that while you’re gone.”

“No. You’ll be too visible.”

The skin around her mouth tightened, but she didn’t argue. “Stay safe. I’ll watch out for you.”

Leaving her after doing another circuit to ensure no one else was around, he took off at high speed. It didn’t take him long to get what he needed. It was only when he was at the door she’d opened that he realized he’d brought her meat. He’d been proud of being able to feed her, had forgotten he wasn’t supposed to offer a woman meat.