Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(77)

She’d accepted his advice when it came to Kilimanjaro, but today, her voice was steel. “I will come. You are right, Alexander would not leave his beloved homeland—I shouldn’t have doubted your instincts and sent you to Titus’s territory.”

Her voice faded into eerie screams for an instant, returned pulsing with power. “If Alexander is not below the palace, he will be nearby.” No screams now, only a voice so pure, it almost hurt. “Find him, Xi. I will do the rest.”





32


Naasir climbed a tree tall enough that it allowed him to spy on the village that lay between them and the caves, but there was nothing to see. It was long past the midnight hour, the lights within the homes extinguished and the waters of the lake a whispering mirror under the moonlight. If the villagers had seen the swarm, they probably knew well enough to keep their shutters closed and stay within.

Climbing down rather than jumping, so as not to cause any unnecessary noise or vibrations, he took Andromeda’s hand in his.

“If Alexander is Sleeping here,” she whispered as they began to make their way past the village by skirting the far edge of it, “this can’t be the first odd incident the villagers have witnessed.”

Naasir had his senses focused on possible threats, but he saw where she was going. “You think they are loyal to Alexander and keep his secrets?”

“Like Caliane and the people of Amanat. She took them into Sleep with her, but Alexander could’ve simply brought this tribe with him, trusted them to watch over his Sleeping place.”

“That would explain the number of strong vampires I sensed in amongst the mortals.” Vampires that old and powerful normally chose to work for the archangels, either managing small territories, or working directly in their strongholds.

It was where they found the most challenge.

One or two might decide on a simpler way of life, but Naasir had spotted far more than that when he and Andromeda first came upon the village. He’d figured this was a home village for a group of Favashi’s soldiers who were on leave, but Andromeda’s suggestion made more sense. “Mortals alone wouldn’t have the physical strength to hold back Alexander’s immortal enemies.”

A dog barked at them from the backyard of a small, neat house that blended into its surroundings. When Naasir growled at it, the animal whimpered and went silent.

He felt bad. He usually tried not to scare smaller predators. He’d bring the dog some meat after it was all over; it was only doing what it was trained to do, looking out for intruders.

Turning to Andromeda, he lifted a finger to his lips.

They made it past the village in silence and without problems.

“Even if they are Alexander’s guards,” Naasir said once there was no chance their voices would give them away, “they aren’t locked in time.” He’d seen electronics and caught sight of clothing woven in modern ways.

“They must leave the village and interact with the wider world to keep an eye on things that might affect Alexander’s Sleep.” Andromeda thought of Caliane again. “If I had to guess, I’d say the fruit and other trees we’ve seen, exist to provide a front, stop awkward questions about how the tribe survives. Alexander will have left them funds enough to sustain the entire tribe for untold centuries.” She bit her lower lip. “We didn’t see any wings. Alexander had very loyal squadrons.”

“Wings are highly visible,” Naasir pointed out. “Vampires, on the other hand, can quietly relocate with no one paying attention, so long as the vampire in question doesn’t hold a high-level position like Dmitri—or if his or her archangel is no longer in the world. Some do not want to serve any other.”

“You’re right.” No takeoffs or landings to draw attention to this place; just a quiet village held by vampires who had withdrawn from life after their archangel chose to Sleep, and those who were likely descended from vampire-mortal matings, or who were family by blood.

Only the deeply trusted must live here, for that was the only way a secret this big could be kept. If a child was brought up as a warrior among warriors, and told he watched over an archangel, Andromeda didn’t think that child would ever break the faith—for what greater honor was there in the world?

At that instant, Naasir once again lifted a finger to his lips. Andromeda went silent, ears straining, but she heard nothing beyond the normal noises of a moonlit night. A rustle of wind, the trees creaking slightly, the bark of another dog on the opposite side of the village. Naasir, however, remained on high alert as they continued on, his muscles bunched in readiness for an attack.

There was no attack. Not then. That came just before dawn, when the world was misty gray and they thought themselves safe. A crossbow bolt whipped by an inch from Andromeda’s face—would’ve been embedded in that face if Naasir hadn’t moved at the last second to push her out of the way.

Acting on instinct, she slammed behind a tree while Naasir dropped to the ground and crawled over to join her. “There are many of them.”

Andromeda pointed to the quivering crossbow bolt embedded in the trunk of another tree. It was black with distinctive silver etchings. Silver had always been Alexander’s color. “We’re friends!” Andromeda called out, going with her gut and judging these were Alexander’s people. “The enemy is coming!”