“Yes.”
Jason walked forward. “Suyin.”
Naasir was unsurprised the spymaster knew the identity of the woman in his hold; as far as Naasir could work out, Jason knew everything. “She needs to go to Keir. Xi ordered one of her wings be excised, the other I had to break.”
Holding out his arms, Jason said, “I’ll take her. With her wing strapped down, she’s easy enough cargo—I’ll go to Amanat and ask Keir to travel there.” He looked to Andromeda. “You’ll have to stay grounded. You can’t fly high enough to avoid the squadrons, but Naasir can get you out.”
“Understood.” She touched her hand gently to Suyin’s shoulder. “Please take care of her. She’s been trapped a long time.”
“I will,” the spymaster said, holding Suyin with arms Naasir knew wouldn’t permit her to fall.
“Stay safe.” Stepping back on those words, Jason flared out his wings and made a flawless vertical takeoff. He was lost in the night within three wingbeats. Naasir knew no one would ever spot him.
“Incredible,” Andromeda breathed, her head turned upward.
Naasir scowled. “Jason doesn’t have claws.” He showed her his.
Andromeda looked at the claws, then at him, a slow smile lighting up her eyes. “Those are very sharp. Why didn’t you cut me when you grabbed me?”
“I didn’t want to cut you.” He growled at the question that shouldn’t have been asked.
“We need to find some water,” said the woman who was acting and sounding more and more like his mate. “I hate being dirty and bloody.”
“The water here isn’t good. Tainted.”
She made a face. “Then let’s leave.”
Deciding no further conversation was needed, Naasir began to lead them out of the forest. Squadrons flew overhead, but none landed. Naasir thought they’d dismissed him—if they even knew his identity yet. And they clearly believed Andromeda was in the sky. Stupid.
She kept up with the pace he set for the next three hours. It was slow for him, but he knew he was pushing her—angels weren’t meant to cover this much ground on foot. Their power was in the air. On the ground, their wings became an extra weight that created considerable drag.
Andromeda was also wearing flimsy slippers that tore halfway through.
“It’s surface pain,” she said to him when he stopped to check her feet. “The cuts will heal when we stop.”
Naasir didn’t like seeing her feet bruised and bloody, but he knew she was tough, would make it. Still, he took care to choose a path with few rocks and stones. Finally out of the formerly reborn-infested forest, he led her to a valley between two mountains. It took another hour for him to locate a spring-fed pond, but the deep water within was crystal clear and icy cold under the now-rainless night sky.
“Bathe,” he said to her, taking in the exhaustion she was trying to hide but that had made her wings begin to droop. “We can’t be out in the open at dawn.”
Andromeda placed her sword carefully on the grass. “Turn your back.”
“I want to be clean, too.” The scent of the reborn was ugly.
“I’ll watch for threats while you bathe if you do the same for me.” She folded her arms and stood in place. “I’m not stripping off unless you turn your back.”
He bared his teeth at her, but did as she asked. Dmitri had taught him that he must never take what a woman didn’t want to give.
Do not steal what only has value if freely given.
Naasir had needed to hear that. He wasn’t a bad person inside, but though he could put on a cultured skin that fooled people, inside, he sometimes still didn’t know how to behave. When he’d been younger and first starting to feel the urge to rut with females—and before he’d grown up to the point where many of the opposite sex found him irresistible—he’d tried to court girls by bringing them meat and shiny things.
It turned out he’d scared them.
“Most women and girls,” Dmitri had told him, “don’t know what to do when a man drops a hunk of raw meat in their hands.”
He’d learned that lesson after the girls screamed, dropping perfectly good meat he’d spent time hunting and skinning. When he’d come back with the shiny things, they’d looked at him with huge eyes and he’d smelled fear-stink. It had angered him and confused him and so he’d gone back to Dmitri.
“I’m not going to hurt them.”
“Unfortunately, they see you as a threat now. Start with the shiny things next time and skip the meat. If you smell fear on a woman, back off and don’t return.”
Dmitri’s advice had worked. Some women liked the shiny things and they liked to be naked with him, but then he’d scared them in bed. Apparently, biting wasn’t always allowed, and pounding into a woman’s wetness wasn’t always acceptable. Those women had pushed him off and screamed that he should be “gentle” and “courteous” and not “a feral beast.” Irritated, he’d found others who didn’t mind if he pounded or bit.
Today, many women said he was a good lover. What they didn’t know was that ever since he’d realized what was and wasn’t acceptable, he no longer unleashed his full desire, even with the women who didn’t mind if he was rough: they couldn’t take it. And with Andromeda . . . he was so deeply sexually hungry that he wanted to turn around and pounce on her, do all the sexual things he’d never before permitted himself.