Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(51)

Don’t act with me.

Andromeda might jump when he playfully scared her, but she hadn’t flinched once when it counted. She’d been happy he’d brought her meat, had let him touch her with his claws, hadn’t looked at him with terrified abhorrence just because he wasn’t like other men. No, she looked at him as if she wanted to pet him and bite him and play with him.

Except tonight. Tonight, she wouldn’t look at him at all.

“I chose a man.”

She stumbled over something in her path, righted herself. “Oh.” A long pause before she said, “I didn’t think you liked men that way.” Her voice was tight, as if she wasn’t breathing properly.

“Food is food.” As long as it wasn’t diseased like the blood that ran in the veins of Lijuan’s reborn, it would keep him alive.

Andromeda shot him a knife-edged glance that made him happy his mate had claws—and angry she was using them on him when he hadn’t done anything wrong. “I’ve heard the women in the Refuge talk about how sensual it is when you feed from them.”

Naasir shrugged. “Cooperative food is better than noncooperative food.” When he needed to hunt, he went after meat prey. For blood, he took no one who wasn’t consenting. “But the Refuge food is too cooperative,” he grumbled. “How much blood do they think I can drink?”

Mouth falling open, Andromeda shook her head. She’d braided her hair again so it was as restrained as possible, but her eyes sparkled with wildness. Then she began to laugh, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. Fascinated, he just watched those bright, sparkling eyes. Every time she tried to speak, she started to laugh again, so he just let her until she’d tired herself out. And he enjoyed her pleasure.

“What’s so funny?” he asked when she finally spluttered into giggles.

“All those women,” she whispered, eyes crinkling up again. “They boast about how you feed from them, the implication being that you find each one deeply attractive—and you think of them as food!” She doubled over again, shoulders shaking as she tried futilely to stifle the sounds.

Not that it mattered; there was no one to hear but him.

Grinning at the wicked glee he’d glimpsed in her, he stroked his hand down the center of her wings in a petting gesture. “They have different-tasting blood,” he told her. “I think it has to do with their diet. I like the variety. Like going to different restaurants.”

She fell to the ground, she was laughing so hard by now. Tears leaked out of her eyes. “Stop it,” she managed to say between her giggles before setting her sword on the grassy earth and clamping both hands over her mouth as she lay on her back.

Straddling his fierce, sparkling, delicious-smelling mate with his knees on either side of her thighs, he braced his body on his palms above her. “Shall I tell you a secret?”

Laughter still holding her captive, she shook her head, but he could tell she wanted to know.

He levered himself down until he was bare inches from the lush-lipped mouth over which she still had her hands. “If Dmitri hadn’t taught me to be civilized,” he whispered, “I’d probably have eaten some of the women by now.”

When Andromeda’s eyes went huge, he realized he’d made a mistake, shown her too much of his nature. About to push off her before she screamed or acted terrified because he wasn’t sure he could handle the hurt, he was held in place by her grip on his T-shirt.

Hauling him down, she whispered, “Are you making fun?”

He knew he should lie, but he didn’t want to be with anyone who expected him to hide himself. Janvier and Ashwini didn’t hide themselves from each other. Honor knew all of Dmitri’s secrets. “No,” he said. “I’m fully capable of eating a person, but I’d have to hate them and be really hungry.” He thought about telling her what he’d done to the angel who’d created him, decided to see how she took this first truth.

Tiny lines formed between her eyebrows. “Do you think of me as food?” It was a snarl.

“No.” Muscles easing, he rubbed his nose over hers. “If I bite you, it’ll be in play. And if I eat you up, it’ll be because I have my tongue in your—”

She slammed her hand over his mouth.


*



Pulse racing, Andromeda looked into the eyes of the feral, beautiful creature who was shattering every barrier she’d created in an effort to live a life of honor and discipline where she didn’t only use, but created and gave. He was so pure, with a core of primal honesty that drew her like a moth to a flame. She knew that she’d never again meet anyone like Naasir, not even should she live to be ten thousand years old.

Part of her wanted to accept his invitation, to be with him, to hoard the memories against what was to come. She was bound to serve in Charisemnon’s court for five hundred years, and knowing her grandfather, those five hundred years would be one horror after another. Surely, whispered the desperation in her, surely she could have Naasir for just a little while?

And what happens when you join Charisemnon’s court?

The cold reminder was a slap. The idea of Naasir hating her or himself after they’d been so painfully intimate, it made her feel as if she was spun glass that would break with a single wrong touch. “Remember my vow,” she said after removing her hand from over his mouth, her voice husky with all the emotions she couldn’t set free.