the Archangel of India and Raphael had sparred together with dual blades once upon a time, Neha slender and fluid in combat leathers as she attacked and defended in equal measures.
Raphael didn’t regret executing Neha’s daughter for her crimes, but he did regret that it had so badly damaged his relationship with an archangel who, for all her stiffly traditional thinking and occasional cruelty, cared for her people and did not hesitate to share her knowledge with younger archangels.
Sire, Montgomery replied even as those thoughts passed through Raphael’s mind in a matter of split seconds. Galen wishes to speak with you. He says it’s a matter of urgency.
Raphael was already moving toward his study before Montgomery added that last. Galen only ever made contact if he had something to say. Entering the study, he saw Galen’s face on the wall screen. “What is it?” he asked his weapons-master.
“Xi has taken Andromeda,” Galen said, then told him the details.
Putting down his blades on his desk as he listened, Raphael wiped off his face using a towel Montgomery brought in. The chilled glass of water the butler offered was also welcome. The vampire left the room straight afterward, but even had he stayed, Raphael would’ve felt no concern.
Montgomery’s loyalty was without question.
“Naasir’s already on his way to China,” Galen said, the harsh angles of his face set in grim lines. “He caught a ride with my squadron to the airport. The jet’ll take him as far as Japan, after which he says he has his own methods of crossing undetected into Lijuan’s territory.” Galen shoved a hand through the deep red of his hair. “He refused backup, said anyone but Jason would get them both caught.”
“Wait,” Raphael said and, splitting the screen, contacted Jason. “Where are you?”
It turned out Raphael’s spymaster was in Neha’s territory, right next door to Lijuan’s. “Mahiya isn’t yet ready to return to her homeland and talk to her mother,” the black-winged angel said, speaking of his mate. “But she asked me to check up on her.”
“I need you to meet Naasir.”
When Raphael laid out the reason why, Jason’s skin pulled taut over his facial bones, the intricate Polynesian-inspired tattoo that covered the left side of his face suddenly stark against his brown skin. “There’s a reason I’ve always told Naasir not to try and get into Lijuan’s citadel.”
Galen, able to hear the conversation since Raphael had looped him in, nodded. “He’s too reckless, with no care for his life.”
That wasn’t quite true; Naasir did care for his life. He simply had no fear. As a result, he took far too many chances for Raphael to be certain he wouldn’t be caught by Lijuan—and unlike when Naasir had been a child, Lijuan wouldn’t forgive the trespass. “You’ve been in the citadel,” he said to Jason. “Can Naasir get in?”
“Yes.” Not in its usual queue today, strands of Jason’s black hair blew across the curves and fine dots of the ink that marked him. “He’s also stealthy enough to get away with it, if he doesn’t allow his more primal instincts to take the lead.”
“That might be a problem,” Galen said, his hands on his hips and tone rough with concern. “He was adamant that Andromeda is his responsibility.”
Galen had good cause to worry. Once Naasir took on such a task, he’d die before failing. “Go,” Raphael ordered Jason. “Track him down, and help him break out the scholar.” He knew Jessamy’s apprentice wouldn’t have been harmed . . . or not badly harmed in any case. Lijuan wanted the information Andromeda held in her head.
And her blood was that of Lijuan’s closest ally.
“Sire.” Jason signed off.
“Is the scholar likely to cooperate with Lijuan to save her skin?” Raphael asked Galen.
“No.” A response that held not the slightest hesitation or doubt. “Every time I’ve spoken to her on the subject of Alexander, she’s been adamant in her distaste for what we all believe Lijuan intends to do.”
“Lijuan’s Refuge stronghold?”
“It stands—she’s left a full squadron there and they’re bristling today.”
Raphael had believed Lijuan understood the lines she’d crossed when she precipitated a battle in the Refuge, but clearly her arrogance left no room for the rules that bound their race. “How long is Andromeda capable of surviving in Lijuan’s citadel?”
“Not many know that she’s a fully trained and capable warrior,” his weapons-master told him. “So she’ll survive—but I don’t know if she’ll survive whole. Lijuan’s methods of persuasion can be horrific.”
In Galen’s pale green eyes was the knowledge that no