Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter)

by Nalini Singh

  Charisemnon pushed away the girls. Trained and obedient, they slipped out of bed and headed out without anything to cover their naked flesh. Leaving the bed himself while she averted her eyes, Charisemnon pulled on a robe the color of aged merlot and turned to her.

  “It could have and you will be disciplined for not clearing your actions with me,” he said, and all at once, he was no longer a man with sickening appetites but an archangel, his power blinding. “However, as Alexander clearly has gentle feelings for you, there’s no reason we can’t capitalize on that.”

  “You wish for me to cultivate Alexander?” she asked, her expression polite and respectful, though she felt as if she was attempting to balance on a tightrope so thin, it cut into the soles of her feet. “Would that not anger Lijuan and threaten your alliance?”

  “Alexander is an Ancient.” Charisemnon poured himself a drink from an opaque bottle. “If we can gain his favor, Lijuan becomes less important.”

  Andromeda didn’t fool herself that her grandfather was taking her into his confidence. “Of course, sire.”

  Charisemnon’s lips flattened after he put down the glass, his eyes chips of ice. “Lijuan should never have taken a child of my bloodline, and she should’ve informed me of her plans for Alexander.”

  Ah. Andromeda knew she meant nothing to Charisemnon as a person, but as a symbol of his rule, yes. Lijuan had crossed a line there. But even that, she suspected, wouldn’t have been enough without the latter transgression.

  Tightening the robe of his belt, Charisemnon sneered. “I would have been able to ensure the success of the mission. She was a fool to disregard me.”

  “Yes, sire.” Andromeda waited to see if there was anything further, but Charisemnon dismissed her after stating that Alexander would be at her parents’ home the next day and she was to fly there today in readiness.

  Fighting not to throw up in relief at the temporary stay of torture, Andromeda left at once, turning down an offer of an escort from the Master of the Guard. She was a warrior scholar and the mate of a wild chimera; she could get herself from one side of the territory to the other without guards.

  Taking off, she stayed below the white cotton-candy clouds, low enough that she could see the lands over which she flew. It took about thirty minutes to get out of the city at the center of which stood Charisemnon’s sprawling stronghold, and into the wilderness of this awe-inspiring territory. A herd of antelope ran below her for at least a mile, as if racing her shadow, and she saw elephants walking with regal pomp, hippos swimming in the rivers, groups of baboons chattering and fighting below the widely spaced trees.

  Her heart swelled.

  It seemed so unjust that all this bounty lay in Charisemnon’s disease-causing hands. If life were fair, he would have a land as barren as his soul, and Lijuan’s black rain wouldn’t manifest with the beauty of black diamonds glimmering with water.

  Sweeping along an updraft, she forced her mind off that dark path, instead filling her thoughts with Naasir’s love for her homeland. He’d told her he snuck in as often as he could, just to run with the animals. She loved that, loved that someone so courageous and honorable and pure found pleasure in this land. He should be the one in charge of this territory—though he probably wouldn’t want the job.

  She stopped for a while on the shore of a small lake that rippled with sunlight, loathe to spend any more time in her parents’ home than necessary. It was better than Charisemnon’s court, but better was a matter of degrees. Her sympathy for Lailah and Cato’s childhood didn’t extend to the vileness they meted out.

  Night had fallen by the time she finally arrived, and though she tried to sleep, she spent the night on the roof, staring up at the stars. “Naasir,” she whispered, her faith in his love the foundation of her new existence. “I miss you, my heart.”

  He didn’t appear out of the savanna this time, didn’t tumble her to the earth.

  There was only the night and the silence.

  * * *

  Early the next morning, she flew out to perch on a hill and watched the skies turn from whispering gray to light-shattered dawn, then to a dusty, soft blue seen nowhere else on this earth. If she could, she’d meet Alexander out here. But when the archangel appeared in the sky ninety minutes later, his wings glinting in the sunlight in a way that brought Naasir vividly to mind and choked her throat with longing, he dipped his wings to show he saw her, but carried on to her parents’ stronghold.

  Andromeda forced herself to do the same.

  Unlike Andromeda’s simple sea-green tunic and tapered black pants, Lailah and Cato had come out dressed in formal clothing. Andromeda made the introductions, hoping she was following the correct protocols. She’d never had reason to learn how to introduce an Ancient to other powerful angels, but since no one censured her, she must’ve muddled through it.

  “Please,” her mother said, leading Alexander into the formal receiving area, elegant and hung with priceless artworks.

  It took Andromeda a few minutes to realize both Lailah and Cato were intimidated by Alexander.

  “Your daughter put her life on the line to save mine,” Alexander was saying, his body clad in the clothes of a warrior, the colors charcoal gray and stark black. “I’m not a man who forgets such things.”

  “She has always been strong, always had a will more formidable than many an adult.”

  Astonished and startled at the pride she heard in her mother’s tone, Andromeda stared at her, but Lailah had already returned her attention to Alexander. Her face was fine boned in profile, her smooth skin of dark honey flawless, and her tightly curled hair worn in a graceful updo.

  Beside Lailah, Cato appeared ghostly pale, his skin having never held the warmth of the sun and his eyes a washed-out blue that were nonetheless haunting in their beauty. Fine blond hair fell to his shoulders, his face one that many an artist had sketched. They always drew him as an innocent.

  “Yes,” Alexander said into the small quiet that had fallen. “Your child is strong for one of her age and has enough courage to shoot a crossbow at one archangel to save another.” A faint smile. “It is for that reason I would like her in my new court.”

  Andromeda froze.

  Naasir.

  He’d done this. Somehow, her sneaky, smart mate had done this.

  Across from Alexander, her parents’ faces had gone slack. Her mother was the first to recover, her golden brown eyes huge. “You wish our daughter to be one of your courtiers?”

  “I do not have courtiers as such.” Alexander’s tone was cool. “However, I do have warriors and scholars in my inner circle. And I must rebuild my court after so many of them were murdered fighting alongside my son.”

  A chill filled the room, Alexander’s power suddenly an agonizing pressure against Andromeda’s eardrums, his wings having taken on a glow no one wanted to witness. Not because it wasn’t glorious—oh, it was—but because archangels generally glowed right before they meted out death, vicious and final.

  “I am honored,” Andromeda said when it appeared her parents had been struck dumb. “A position in an Ancient’s court is usually never offered to an angel so young.”

  Alexander’s lips curved, and at that instant, she could see the “beautiful warrior” written of in stories of his reign. But she couldn’t see him as a man, for in his eyes, she saw such age that it threatened to crush. She didn’t know what woman would ever be able to handle the sheer power of him. Caliane? But Caliane was famously still in love with the mate she’d been forced to execute.

  No one else on the planet was Alexander’s equal in power and age.

  “Ah, but you are not usual, are you, scholar?” Alexander’s eyes locked with hers. “Not many people would dare tell a Sleeping Ancient to ‘Listen, damn you!’”

  As her parents choked on appalled disbelief, Andromeda found herself smiling. “In my defense, I was trying to save your life and you were being terribly arrogant and bad-tempered.”

  Throwing back
his head, Alexander laughed, the sound filling the room in a way that made her understand why he had a friendship with Titus. The Archangel of Southern Africa also laughed with such open and unalloyed delight when amused.

  “Yes,” Alexander said afterward, “you are not usual, Andromeda.” Smile yet on his lips, he turned to her parents. “I’m informed your child is tied by a blood vow, that she cannot accept my offer.”

  “Oh,” her father said in an awed tone. “If you would give us a moment, we will speak to the Archangel Charisemnon. He is the only one who can release her.”

  Neither Andromeda nor Alexander said a word while her parents were out of the room. For Andromeda, there was too much at stake, and the Ancient likely had other concerns on his mind. Like rebuilding his palace and reclaiming his territory. He didn’t have time to come all this way to offer Andromeda a place in his court, no matter what role she’d played in saving his life. Not to mention it was a security risk, given his weakened state.

  How had Naasir done this?

  Stifling her curiosity and trying not to allow her hope to burn too bright, she waited. When her mother walked back into the room, Lailah said, “Andromeda, your grandfather would like to speak to you in the study.”

  Andromeda excused herself and went quickly to the room with the large screen that currently hosted Charisemnon’s ravaged visage—shadowed in a way to make it seem he bore no scars. Her father left the instant she entered. “Sire,” she said on a deep bow. “You have heard?”

  “Yes.” Charisemnon’s eyes gleamed, avaricious and satisfied. “You must accept. To have one of my blood in Alexander’s court is an unimaginable coup.”

  “I am bound by my blood vow.”

  Charisemnon waved a hand. “I release you from the vow.”

  Her blood thundered, her head spinning. Tensing her stomach and managing to keep her feet though her knees threatened to crumple, she met her grandfather’s gaze. “I believe the Ancient will wish to hear you say so himself. He is of the old guard and apt to be traditional about such matters.” She hoped Alexander would back her because she needed him as witness. No one would ever question his word. “Shall I fetch him?”

  “Yes. I should like to speak to him.”

  Walking back into the receiving room on rubbery legs, she made the request. Alexander’s eyes held an unexpected amusement as he got up and walked with her. “I thank you for your indulgence,” the Ancient said to her grandfather when Charisemnon formally released her from the blood vow. “It is a loss to send such a grandchild to another’s court.”

  “She will always be family,” Charisemnon said, once more an archangel pulsing with power. “I hope this will lead to strong ties between our two courts.”

  Alexander inclined his head slightly and Charisemnon didn’t seem to notice the Ancient hadn’t actually agreed.

  “Do you need to pack?” Alexander asked as soon as the conversation ended, his tone curt and businesslike.

  “No. I can go now.” She had her sword; everything else, she and Naasir would figure out later.

  “Good. I must return to my territory.” Striding back to farewell her still somewhat-bewildered parents, he gave her a minute to grab a small bag of high-energy dried food for the journey, then ordered her to follow him out.

  Andromeda said a quick good-bye to Lailah and Cato, was startled when her mother hugged her close and whispered, “Fly free, my daughter. Be what I could never be and leave the cage forever.”

  Andromeda stared, the haunting words echoing inside her skull, but in front of her, Lailah was once more the cruel, beautiful mother she’d always known, and Alexander was in the air.

  She lifted off.

  51

  There was no way Andromeda could keep up with Alexander, no matter if he wasn’t at full strength. It was a physical impossibility for any young angel. However, the Ancient stayed with her to the border. The instant they reached the sea, he told her to find her way to his territory at her own pace, then flew high and fast, heading home to a people who needed him.

  Andromeda didn’t linger, beating her own wings as hard as she could to get to safe harbor. Unlike Alexander, she couldn’t do the trip in one go. She had to rest and when she did, she chose isolated places. It took her more than thirty-six hours to reach Alexander’s territory; the sun was beginning to set in the west, its golden rays lighting up the sky. Not sure where to go, she made her way to the Brotherhood village.

  It remained in ruins.

  The wing brothers must’ve all moved to the palace, she realized. About to turn that way, she saw that the home in which she and Naasir had stayed was upright and in good repair.

  Andromeda was too relieved to question why that one building had been repaired. She needed a safe place to rest and to find her bearings, and this small home with its memories of Naasir would do. It was a pale substitute for the man she loved, but it was better than anything she’d had before Alexander’s offer. Tomorrow morning, she’d locate the steward of his court, find out her duties.

  And surely Alexander wouldn’t mind if Naasir visited her.

  Hope a flame in her heart, she pushed through the door of the house, went into the bathroom and found that the plumbing worked. Grateful, she stripped and washed away the dust and grit of her journey. When she turned off the water and got out after wringing her hair dry, her eyes went instinctively to the back of the bathroom door. The silky black robe hanging there looked new . . . and it had the Grimoire in one pocket.

  Andromeda had given it to Naasir to take to Jessamy.

  Shoving her arms into the sleeves, she tied it haphazardly and burst out into the room. Her grin cracked her face as she ran to jump on the bed and on the man who was lying nonchalantly on it. “How did you get in?”

  Silver eyes glinted at her in mock insult. “Did you just ask me that question?” He took the Grimoire and threw it on a small table. “Stupid Grimoire book.”

  Laughing, she smothered his face in kisses. Naasir opened her robe and slipped his hands inside to lie against her wet skin as he held her close and turned his face so she could cover all of him with her kisses. “I missed you,” she said between each kiss. “I missed you. I missed you.”

  His chest rumbled under her, his skin bearing tiger stripes. “You should miss me. I’m your mate.”

  He sounded so smug that she kissed him again. “Why didn’t you come? I waited and waited!” Slapping her hand on his chest, she sat up on her knees. “I looked for you every night.”

  Scowling at her, he said, “I had to think of a way to get you out of Charisemnon’s clutches.” He bared his teeth. “Then I had to hunt down Alexander and point out that he owed you and me a very big favor.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Did you really say that to him?” It came out a squeaked whisper.

  “Why not?” Hands behind his head, he shrugged. “Alexander was always known for his honor, and he likes you.”

  Still astonished that he’d brazenly gone up to an Ancient and demanded repayment, she shivered. “He could’ve killed you in anger.” And she could’ve lost him forever.

  “No. He likes me, too.” Grinning, he pulled her down and flipped positions so that she was pinned under him. “He tried to steal me from Raphael but I can’t be stolen.”

  Stroking his cheek and feeling that fine, near-invisible fur that sometimes appeared with the stripes, she felt her eyes burn. “I was so scared.” A ragged confession.

  Thunder in his expression. “Did anyone hurt you?”

  “No.” Her wild chimera had no need to know how close it had come—that one thing, she’d keep from him, because it would cause him pain for no reason. “I knew you’d come.”

  His eyes told her he saw her secrets anyway. “I knew you’d be strong, that you’d stay alive no matter what.”

  Eyes hot and wet, she held on to him, was held, for a long time.

  When Naasir moved, it was to pull something out of his pocket. “This is for you.”

 
Surprised by the way he’d ducked his head, as if shy, she looked down. Her hands flew to her mouth. “For me?”

  “Mates wear amber.” Tugging one hand away from her mouth, Naasir slipped on the ring of gold that bore the patina of great age.

  Its heart was darkest amber.

  “Oh,” she whispered, staring at it and sniffing and smiling. “You gave me amber.” She touched the ring with the fingers of her other hand, made incoherent noises of naked joy. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It has a story, a history,” Naasir told her, openly smug at her delight. “I thought you’d like it better than a new ring.”

  “I do. So much.” She smothered his face in kisses again. “I designed a ring for you,” she admitted shyly afterward. “I couldn’t have it made yet.” Too much risk her grandfather would hear, would learn she’d bonded that deeply with another. “It’s going to have my name written on the inside,” she added, daring him to argue.

  Naasir’s eyes glowed. “Because I’m your territory.” A clawed hand caressed her cheek. “Possessive mate.”

  “Yes. Very.” She snapped her teeth at him.

  Laughing, he snapped back, and they tussled in the bed like two big cats. She was breathless by the time she ended up under him again. Blowing her hair off her face, she said, “Tell me everything about how exactly you got Alexander to agree.” Brazen and courageous, her mate astonished her.

  Naasir sighed. “Can we rut first?” Grinding his sizable erection against her, he closed his hand over her bare breast. “I want you.”

  Andromeda shivered. Spreading her thighs, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He sank into her kiss as his fingers stroked and petted her between her thighs. When he thrust his fingers inside her, she arched her back, lifted herself for his claiming, but he wasn’t done. Kissing his way down her body, he licked and sucked at her with a feline playfulness that had her writhing on the bed, the robe she still wore twisting around her.