by Nalini Singh
“Jason.” Neha inclined her head in regal acknowledgment before entering the palace she used while at Guardian, ready to begin her vigil by Eris’s lifeless body.
Swallowing the anger within her that could ruin everything, Mahiya said, “Do you wish to return to Archangel Fort?”
A nod, and he rose again, in a burst of blinding speed.
Her heart leaped into her throat. He was faster than Neha. Her own rise felt childish and painful by comparison, but she got airborne and made her way to the fort through the crystalline blue skies while Jason went so high he wasn’t even a dot in the distance, reappearing at the last minute to arrow down to a clean landing in front of her—their—palace. The area appeared deserted, the guards having decamped after removing Eris’s body.
Jason folded back his wings, waited for her to do the same. Then he turned to her. “Do you not,” he said in a tone calm and measured, “have enough respect for yourself to not allow Neha to treat you like something scraped off the bottom of her shoe?”
The shock of the unexpected blow was so absolute, it felt as if he’d punched a fist into her rib cage, crumpling her bones inward where they ripped and tore and made her bleed.
* * *
Jason realized he’d made a mistake the instant after he spoke, as Mahiya’s face paled to a sickening shade, her breath jagged. It had been a long time since he’d spoken without thought, and he knew he’d allowed his anger at Mahiya’s acceptance of the treatment meted out to her by Neha to color his thinking.
Shifting a fraction closer, he spread his wings as if stretching them. “We are watched.” He made his tone a whip. “Do not break.”
She blinked at the harsh order, and then it was as if a rod of steel had been thrust through her spine, her tawny eyes wild with fury. “A test, spymaster? If so, I failed.”
So at last, I see you again, Mahiya. “I could have spoken with more care, but that would not change the heart of my question.”
Her fury now tightly controlled, she walked not into the privacy of the palace, but through the delineated pathways of the courtyard garden, the area bright with lush blooms that mocked the desert climate, the water running down the sides of the pavilion offering a cooling wash of air. “Am I meant to thank you for calling me a spineless coward?”
“No,” he said, his own anger far more tempered but no less dangerous. “But you must know that weakness, real or feigned, only incites predators.” And the archangels were the alpha predators on the planet. “Neha appreciates those who stand up to her—you have the strength to do so.” She was no more spineless than he was stupid. “You have no reason to play dead.”
A wash of dark red across her cheekbones, her hands fisting. “Don’t think to know me or my life on the basis of a day’s enforced intimacy, my lord.” Turning away from the garden with those cold words, she led him through a doorway into the cool rooms within the fort, heading downward until he thought they must be on the level that housed the Palace of Jewels.
They exchanged no further words until she halted by a set of doors decorated with the familiar motif of slender vases, the carvings inset with agate and what looked to be green tourmaline. The doors stood ajar, but the angle meant he and Mahiya were yet concealed from the view of the people within. He took advantage of that to study the room and its inhabitants.
Spacious and relatively free of furniture, the room opened out onto a wide balcony, sunlight slanting in through there as well as through the tiny squares of the lattice window to the right. The illumination was bright but not hard, gilding the angels and vampires who stood talking and laughing in pairs or small groupings, all dressed in rich fabrics that sparkled and glittered, diamonds like drops of ice in their hair and their ears.
“Courtiers,” Mahiya said, her tone frigid. “A private brunch where they can display their finery without offence to Neha. I can make the introductions.”
Refusing the offer with a shake of his head, he walked a few feet to the right—to a door that, as he’d hoped, led directly to a balcony that paralleled the room of courtiers. Even better for his purpose, it was small, unconnected to the wider balcony he’d observed at the end of the room. Walking out, he leaned against the sun-warmed stone beside the lattice window and settled in to listen, darkly conscious of Mahiya’s silent presence by his side.
As she’d been silent in Neha’s presence.
His renewed anger at her behavior was visceral, a raw, bubbling thing. After near to seven hundred years of living with memories that had never faded, he knew the cause of his turbulent response, knew his fury was fed by the memory of another woman who hadn’t fought the violence meted out to her.
“He cannot help it, Jason. A terrible darkness has taken hold of his heart . . . but we can bring him back. We just have to love him.”
Neha’s treatment of Mahiya was nothing so obvious as a physical blow, but it was as effective a weapon in erasing her personality.
“. . . rumors he had a lover.”
Clamping down on his anger, Jason focused on the voices.
“Ridiculous. Who would chance execution for something as tawdry as sex?”
“Komal might. You know how angry she has been since Neha banished that vampire she intended to bed.”
“Komal is a silly girl, but she isn’t suicidal.”
Jason listened for almost an hour, but heard nothing else as explosive as that short conversation. “Who is Komal?” he asked Mahiya once they were well away from the room.
“A vampire who has been part of the inner court for half a century. Her beauty is considerable, and she’s adept at using it to manipulate men. I think she doesn’t quite understand that Neha is not as susceptible.” A glance that wasn’t as circumspect as he’d come to expect from her, the frost yet present in the tawny brown depths. “I’ll take you to her if you wish.”
“Yes.” Jason felt his own simmering anger spark in response, knew she’d sensed it when she jerked away her head and strode the corridor, her demure demeanor forgotten. Though she could not have meant it to do so, the show of temper soothed his own.
“There she is.” Mahiya indicated a woman walking along one of the open hallways that overlooked the cityscape.
Komal proved to be exactly as described—a sensual invitation with her raven hair and red lips, honey gold skin and dangerous curves. A woman on whom vampirism had bestowed its exotic kiss, and one who was spoiled to the extent that she pouted when Jason didn’t immediately fall at her feet. “We both know the mouse isn’t going to satisfy you,” she purred with venomous sweetness. “I promise to show you pleasures you’ve never tasted.”
Jason stared at the hand she’d raised as if to touch him until she paled, dropped it, before shifting his gaze to lush brown eyes that had no doubt led many a man to hell. “Were you happy to oblige Eris, too?”
11
Pure, unmitigated panic. “Who has started that rumor?” It was a whispered hiss as she looked around for anyone who might overhear. “Neha will execute me if it reaches her ears. God, she’ll probably torture me first, keep me alive for years.”
Jason said nothing, watched her turn to Mahiya, her fangs flashing. “Tell me, or I’ll have you whipped again.”
“If I were you, Komal,” Mahiya said in a tone cool with warning, “I’d forget about making trouble and stay out of sight for the time being.”
Paling even further, the vampire turned and ran off inside, her figure-hugging gown dragging along the gray stone used in this part of the fort. Jason let her go, certain she had neither been, nor had any knowledge of, Eris’s illicit lover. Her shaken response to the accusation and nasty nature aside, Komal wasn’t smart enough to have pulled off such an intrigue. She’d have boasted to someone, been caught long ago.
“Why were you whipped?” he asked the far more complex, intelligent woman by his side.
No hitch in Mahiya’s stride. “Which time?”
His nails dug into his palm. “The last time.”
&n
bsp; “I was disrespectful to a high-level courtier.”
“Was he worth respect?”
Unsurprised at the question from this male who didn’t follow any of the rules of accepted behavior and who’d incited a rage in her that had made her forget herself to a dangerous extent, Mahiya said, “No.” Pointless to lie to him now.
“Then the whipping was worth it.”
It was a strange sensation, being totally liberated of the need to conceal her true thoughts. As if she were drunk. “No,” she said, her fury still cold enough to burn, “because after I was beaten and weak, he received what he wanted.” Mahiya had had to prostrate herself at his feet, beg for forgiveness for the slight she’d done him. Only her stubborn refusal to become anything like Neha had kept her from stewing in the bitterness and hate that had sought to bloom in her that day. “I learned to choose my battles.”
Jason’s eyes, so very dark—like the finest chocolate, rich and decadent—lingered on her for a long, endless moment before he gave a small nod. “So long as you continue to fight.”
Anger surged through her veins once more, until it took everything she had to bite out an outwardly civil response. “Yes, my lord.”
A motionless pause that reminded her she was taunting a man so lethal, he met the eyes of an archangel without flinching. Then he said, “I apologize. I do not know anything of the battles you’ve already fought or the choices you’ve had to make to survive.”
No man had ever apologized to her, and hearing it from this man shook her enough that she didn’t say a word when he turned and began to walk the pathways of the fort, leading rather than being led. She knew he heard more than she did, saw more than she did, though she walked beside him.
He was beyond fascinating.
Dangerous and unpredictable and frighteningly intelligent. A threat. And yet she wanted to run her finger over the blade of him even if it made her bleed, wanted to dance too close to the flame, wanted to take a risk that could destroy her.
Her gaze went to the pitch-black of his wings, her fingers aching to explore, as if her silent admission of just how much he drew her had opened a doorway she hadn’t been aware of locking. Except—
Her eyes skated past him, though she knew he was right there.
Snapping back to full alertness, she realized most of the guards didn’t even notice his presence, though they all greeted her with curt nods. Watching him with a focus that caused a dull headache to throb behind her eyes, she saw the outline of him, but an instant later, he stepped into a shadow created by a spray of flowers high up on a wall and was gone.
Unthinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of his wing, the feathers sleek and warm under her fingertips.
He froze, every muscle tense.
Heat flooded her cheeks, and she dropped her hand as she realized the altogether unacceptable nature of her behavior. “I’m sorry . . . but I couldn’t see you.”
“I’m very good at remaining unseen.” His voice held none of the displeasure she would have expected after witnessing the way he’d warned Komal off from laying a finger on him. “I’ve had hundreds of years of practice.”
She didn’t believe him, but it didn’t take a genius intellect to realize the spymaster would not tell her his secrets. “Again, I apologize.” Her fingers continued to tingle from the fleeting contact. “I had no right.”
“Actually, you did,” he said to her surprise, his tattoo a tactile temptation in the sunlight. “I swore a blood vow to you. Skin and feathers are far closer to the surface than blood.”
“I would never take advantage of the vow in such a fashion.” Fisting her hand in resistance against the compulsion to commit an even worse breach by tracing the wild beauty of his facial markings, she turned her gaze forward and continued to walk. Her skin burned then went icy cold, her heart stuttered . . . and she realized that in spite of her deepening fascination with Raphael’s spymaster, she was afraid.
Jason, with his quiet voice and watchful eyes, was infinitely more dangerous to her than Neha had ever been. He listened when she spoke, had already learned things about her no one else knew. Such a man wouldn’t use his physical strength to overpower her, nor lies to trick her. He’d just know her so well that he’d get her to contribute to her own downfall.
Sweat dampening her palms, she realized too late they were headed for a part of the complex Neha would not want him in under any circumstance. “We can go no further in this direction.”
“Why?”
“This area is for Neha’s private use, off-limits except by her invitation.”
“Very well.” Flaring out his wings with that suspiciously quick agreement, he made a vertical takeoff so fast that she had no hope of catching him.
Compelling . . . and deadly.
It was a truth she could not permit herself to forget, no matter the temptation to touch the blade. Too much was at risk—her entire existence, her very life. Jason was a dream she’d have to save for another life . . . but first, she had to make it out of this one alive.
Losing him above the puffy white clouds that had crept across the sky, she returned her gaze to the pathway of red stone and to the small palace she’d warned Jason not to enter. Neha was secluded at Guardian, would not return till morning. Jason had left Mahiya alone. She’d have no better chance to grab the brass ring.
The trickle of sweat down her spine a chilled bead, she stepped forward.
None of the guards attempted to stop her—Neha often called her in when she wanted something done. But then, Mahiya only ever entered the front rooms. Today, taking advantage of the fact that no guards were permitted within, she continued down the corridor and toward the room at the very center of the palace, a room within which she could sense things that made her hindbrain skitter in warning, jibbering at her to run!
Mahiya wrenched the primal urge under control. This wasn’t her first foray into the forbidden section. The last time had been in the depths of the night, while Neha was actually inside the room at the center. It had taken gut-clenching courage and grim determination, her heart pulsing in her mouth with every jagged breath. What she’d seen that night had been disturbing, but the discovery hadn’t been enough to complete her plan.
Today, the smooth marble walls weren’t encrusted with ice, her breath didn’t fog the air, and her bones didn’t hurt with the pain of extreme cold. Touching her fingers to the marble, she walked quickly and silently down the long final corridor, the door to the room within sight. It had been so hardened with ice the previous time, she hadn’t been able to glean the handle.
Now, the knob shone bright gold. Mahiya went to put her hand on it, hesitated at the last instant. This was far too easy. Forcing patience, she hid herself in a small alcove while she considered the situation from every angle—to discover what Neha was up to, she had to get inside that room, but getting inside that room might well mean her death. Because Neha was an archangel, with abilities both secret and overt.
Her most overt one was the way she could control and manipulate reptilian creatures of every kind. Like the golden vine snake wrapped around the doorknob. Mahiya’s heart punched against her ribs as the creature flicked out its red tongue and she realized what she’d taken for an ornate design was a living being.
A poisonous living being.
Because one of her more covert abilities was the fact that Neha could create poison glands in nonvenomous species. Touching that knob would have meant a bite that left Mahiya paralyzed and helpless for hours.
However, that was unlikely to be the only security feature, because while Neha was an angel of old, she was in no way blind to the benefits of modern technology. Now that Mahiya was thinking properly instead of being driven to act by the knowledge of how quickly her time was running out, she realized that even were the door unlocked, Neha would have set it with a silent alarm that alerted her to any trespass.
Once inside, would an intruder find the room unoccupied . . . or herself surrounded b
y hundreds of snakes irritated to hissing anger at being disturbed?
A hint of noise, a whisper.
Freezing, she hoped whoever it was—a maid?—had only entered to take care of something in the front rooms.
“So,” said a tempered, familiar voice from the left of the alcove, “you seek to unearth Neha’s secrets.”
A bolt of terror hitting her bloodstream, she shifted into the light to face Jason. “I came to get something I’d forgotten,” she said, then considered her empty hands. “I didn’t find it.”
Near-black eyes watched her without blinking. “You’re very good at lying, but I’m even better at detecting it.” Turning his attention to the closed door guarded by the vine snake, he looked at it for several careful seconds before shifting on his heel and saying, “We need to talk in privacy.”
It wasn’t an invitation.
Mahiya would’ve liked nothing better than to refuse the order, but if he mentioned this to Neha, she’d be dead and nothing else would matter. Frustration, fear, and anger boiling a caustic brew in her veins, she followed him out into the light, blinking against the brightness . . . to find that he was no longer beside her.
“It wouldn’t do for Neha to learn that I’d been in there,” he said several minutes later, having rejoined her once she reached a more public area.
“How did you get in?” Even as she spoke, she remembered all those guards simply not seeing him.
His only answer was to glance at her wings, ask, “Can you do another vertical takeoff?”
“Yes.” She was slow, not weak. “Where are we going?”
“Follow me.” Rising into the sky, he held his position until she joined him, then swept out across the city, farther, until they were flying over villages where excited children ran and waved at them, and stacks of blue pottery sat ready to be decorated, while sleepy cattle dozed in a rare green pasture fed by a stream nearly concealed by tall grasses.
I will miss this.
It was a thought that made her heart ache with sorrow. This land of desert and color and hidden oases was all she’d ever known. She couldn’t imagine living in a place without rolling sand dunes, the sight of camels with their swaying walk as familiar as those of the regal elephants. Animals were treated with affection and care under rules Neha had set in place long ago, and many roamed over land set aside for them, as with the herd of camels below, their necks bent as they grazed.