“We got a warning to Rohan,” Naasir added. “He won’t have been caught unprepared.”
“Rohan can look after himself.” A confident statement from Tarek. “But even if you are here to oppose Lijuan, we can’t break our vow and that vow is to hold the line.”
“In that case,” Naasir said, “I’ll have to incapacitate you all.” He sounded like he was joking but Andromeda knew he was dead serious.
“Even the silver-eyed beast can’t take on the heart of the Wing Brotherhood.”
Of course. That’s where she’d seen the tattoo before. Usually on clean-shaven scalps.
Tarek must’ve seen her eyes flick to his hair because he said, “We all take the mark on our eighteenth birthday. Those who leave here shear their hair as a rite of passage, a reminder of the discipline and honor in which they have been forged.”
“Your people have gone far from your homeland.” The reclusive and deadly Wing Brotherhood worked on tasks for various individuals and groups, but always on a contract basis. Until now, no one had ever known from where they came—the guess had been that they belonged to an angel who preferred to stay in the shadows.
“Some of my younger brethren like to fly,” Tarek said. “We do not stop them. All return eventually, for this is home. Often, they bring mates who understand our ways, and who rejuvenate our bloodlines.”
“No one has spoken the secret in four hundred years?” Andromeda whispered. “How can that be?”
“Honor and loyalty and a crucible that does not forgive the weak of soul.” He rose. “You can either fight us or you can leave. We will escort you out.”
Naasir rose, hand linked to hers. “You need to think for today, not stand in the past.”
The leader of the Wing Brotherhood didn’t say anything, just put his hand on the butt of his crossbow. Polite, elegant skin suddenly on, Naasir glanced at Andromeda. “It appears we have worn out our welcome—and Alexander’s guard hasn’t fallen for my bluff.”
She shrugged. “We had to make the attempt.” Meeting Tarek’s gaze, she said, “If you won’t allow us to go to Alexander, then you must warn him yourself.”
An impassive face. “The Ancient Sleeps. No living being can enter his chamber and survive.”
“Not even Lijuan?”
No flicker in his expression. “She may style herself an Ancient, but she is no power in comparison to Alexander.”
“You haven’t seen her since the Cascade began,” Andromeda said, but knew she was wasting her breath—Alexander’s sentinel was too locked into the idea of what should be to see what was happening to the world today.
They walked out with a strong Brotherhood contingent as escort. It was an hour out from the village that Naasir let go of her hand. Dropping her pack, Andromeda had her sword out within the next two heartbeats but was still deathly slow in comparison to him.
Using his claws, he took down three of the wing brothers before they knew what was happening. There was blood but no death, only incapacitation. Andromeda was hampered by the fact she, too, didn’t want to do real damage with the sword, but she wasn’t fast enough or nimble enough to fight the highly trained wing brothers hand-to-hand.
Who, despite the name, were both male and female.
Wanting to ensure she didn’t end up a hostage, she stayed behind Naasir and acted as cleanup for the men and women Naasir pushed off balance or otherwise slowed down; in the end she managed to take down several by whacking their heads with the hilt of her sword. Even in the midst of battle, she took care to use less force with the mortals.
Alexander wouldn’t forgive those who’d fatally harmed his people.
“Andi, fly!”
Everything in her rebelled against the order, against leaving him surrounded by fighters with death in their eyes, but she’d made a promise to obey him in such situations. Gritting her teeth, she put her trust and faith in his skills and took off.
Crossbow bolts fired in her direction in a sharp whistle of air.
34
Naasir bared his teeth when he saw he’d slowed the Brotherhood just enough that none of the bolts reached Andromeda. The instant he’d confirmed she was safely out of range, he swung up into the trees and ran.
Bolts came up into the foliage but the wing brothers couldn’t move as fast as he could and the bolts thudded in where he’d been seconds before. Trusting Andromeda to go in the same direction, he headed right back to the village. It was the fastest way through to the other side.
He wasn’t arrogant, well aware the wing brothers were some of the most highly trained warriors in the world. The only reason this had worked was because they thought Andromeda a scholar despite her sword, and hadn’t been watching her as carefully. The backup she’d offered had given him just enough of an edge—one more minute and the fight would’ve turned against them.
His heart pumping at full strength, he’d crossed the village using the trees on one side, well before the sentinels’ cries alerted the fighters left within. He saw them mustering behind him, heading in the wrong direction, but he didn’t drop his alert status; the wing brothers were scattered throughout this area, were no doubt also in the caves themselves.
His muscles were tight, his lungs burning but he kept going.
There were no trees in the final stretch to the caves, the sunlight bright on the fine desert sand. Even at his speed, a sniper positioned atop the cave system might take him out. If he ran in this skin. Not being stupid, he stripped and slipped into a skin that was his own, but that he hadn’t yet shown Andromeda.
He wanted to surprise her.
To anyone watching, he was now a striped mirage they couldn’t quite focus on. Thanks to the pack he decided not to abandon, a sniper did still spot him, but his aim was off by several feet. Naasir was never where he should be, the combination of his speed and the fact that his body was lower to the ground, not to mention his natural camouflage, making him the perfect predator.
He only stopped once he was on top of the mountain that hid the cave system, far from the frustrated sniper. Finding a supply of water by following his nose until he located a hidden stream, he threw some on his face before taking a drink, then pulled on his pants.
His senses cut out to below-human levels the next instant.
He had to wait for his heartbeat to settle before he could track Andromeda. It was frustrating, but at the pace he’d run, his body needed time to “recalibrate.” Keir had said that to him when he grew old enough to understand such words and things—apparently, his unstable state after a sudden full-strength burn was a design flaw. But since the flip side was incredible speed unseen in any other terrestrial being, four-legged or two, Naasir didn’t usually complain.
Today, he had to fight fury.
The instant his blood stopped rushing through his ears and his heartbeat settled, his senses flickered back to life. It took him mere seconds to catch Andromeda’s scent.
Loping over the mountain’s craggy surface in his secret skin and staying low again, he looked down to find her just below an outcrop. He grinned; his mate was clever. She was hidden from aerial view and she was nowhere near the cave mouth the wing brothers had to be watching.
About to jump down, he remembered Honor’s shock that day he’d jumped onto her balcony, and looking around, found two small pebbles and threw gently. When they hit Andromeda’s shoulders and she jerked up her head, her smile at seeing him was luminescent.
Jumping down to join her, he cupped her cheek with a clawed hand slightly chafed from his low-ground lope. “Did you get hit?”
She shook her head and threw her arms around him, holding on tight. He wrapped his own arms around her and squeezed, breathing in her scent. Her life.