Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)(84)

Reaching behind him, he squeezed her wrist before dropping his hand. “Shall I tell you about Osiris and about how I came to be?”

A long pause. “No. Tell me in the light, under the sun and in a place that speaks to your soul.”

He wanted to kiss her; his mate saw the wildness in his heart, understood that while he could navigate dark places, his choice was to live in the wind and the sun, the rain on his face and grass underfoot. “I have a special place I stay at near the Refuge,” he told her. “About fifteen minutes’ flight for you—it’s in the forests that begin lower down the mountains.” The Refuge itself was full of mountain wildflowers and other foliage, but had few tall trees.

“Really?” Andromeda’s voice held a hunger to know him that was a verbal caress. “Did you build it in the trees?”

Yes, she understood him, his delicious-smelling mate. “Aodhan helped me design it.” The angel was young to Naasir’s way of thinking, but his mind saw in intricate patterns and shapes. “It’s a house perched high in a tree and it opens out on all sides.” Letting in the wind and the sun.

“There’s a landing platform for my winged friends.” He hadn’t told many of his secret home, and all those who knew were careful never to give away its location. “The tree trunk is so straight and high, with so few lower branches that no one who isn’t like me can climb it. If my vampire friends want to visit, I drop down a rope ladder.”

“What about inside? Where do you sleep?”

“In the rain and snow, I make a nest inside, but when the sky is clear, I sleep in a hammock strung out between branches outside.” Where he could look up at the stars and listen to the forest. “It’s warm because Illium hid small panels near it that catch the sunlight and release it at night.” He reached back to touch her wrist again. “I’ll make the hammock bigger, big enough for your wings.”

A sucked-in breath behind him, before Andromeda whispered, “I’d like to see your home.”

“I’ll take you, after.” If she wanted to put her things there, he wouldn’t say no. It was his territory, but he’d share it with her. He wanted her scent in his space, on his things. “I only have a few books,” he admitted. “Things Jessamy gives me so I’ll have knowledge—but I prefer to get my knowledge from listening to people.”

“You must have an acute memory.”

“Yes.” It was apparently an inborn gift that came from the bloodline of the boy who was part of his self. “From the hammock, you can see the stars at night, so clear and bright, and sometimes, you can see the wings of passing squadrons.”

“They don’t spot you?”

“The hammock is too small to see from up high and the house itself is camouflaged in the branches, part of the tree.” As if Aodhan had plucked the image straight out of Naasir’s thoughts. “Aodhan says there is no other house like it in the world.”

“He has such incredible talent.” Andromeda’s voice held a heavy vein of sadness. “Something terrible happened to him, didn’t it?”

Naasir knew exactly what had happened to Aodhan. He’d helped Raphael track down the younger man—who he thought of as a cub in their family unit. That cub had been so badly damaged by the time they found him that Naasir had gone a little insane in vengeance. He wasn’t sorry. No one touched Naasir’s family and walked away unscathed.

“He’s smiling again.” It made Naasir happy to remember that and he knew it would make Andromeda happy, too. “He played a trick on Illium when Illium teased him too much.”

“I’ve never seen Aodhan do anything like that.”

Naasir grinned. “He’s Illium’s best friend for a reason.” Naasir had been a hundred and twenty the first time he met the two. He still hadn’t been full-grown, but he’d been old enough to know that two tiny angel cubs shouldn’t be diving off a steep cliff into a pond below.

When he’d caught them by the scruffs of their necks, the two wet boys had wiggled like squirmy fish in an effort to get away. He’d growled and carried them straight to Jessamy. The memory was one Andromeda would like. He’d share it with her later, he thought, just as she said, “Tell me about Aodhan’s trick.”

Naasir wanted to laugh at the cleverness of it. “He snuck into Illium’s room while Illium was asleep. Normally Illium would wake at once”—the squirmy cub had grown into a seasoned warrior— “but his mind would’ve known Aodhan was no threat, so he slept on.” As Naasir would sleep on if Andromeda was in the room.

“Waiting until Illium turned over onto his front, Aodhan painted words on the outer surface of his wings with a special ink that soaked in but dried without leaving a sticky feeling. When Illium woke, he didn’t notice anything.”

Andromeda giggled. “What did Aodhan write?”

“Well, when Illium went out to join his squadron commanders for a drill, they patted him on the shoulder and said, ‘Sorry, you’re not my type’.” Naasir had seen it all from his vantage point on a balcony.

“Don’t keep me in suspense.” Andromeda thumped him playfully on the shoulder.

Naasir grinned. “Free Bluebell kisses on offer.”

Andromeda stifled a snort.