at Andromeda, the intensity of his gaze a glistening black blade. “You are certain Kilimanjaro heads your list?”
You have secrets. You wear another skin, too.
Andromeda clung to the memory of Naasir’s words, to the skin of an intimidated and scared scholar that was her shield. “Yes.”
Lijuan leaned back on her throne, her body translucent. “Remember this, scholar.” Words that echoed with so many screams, Andromeda’s eardrums threatened to bleed. “If I find you have lied to me, Heng’s punishment among the hounds will appear as nothing.”
Andromeda bowed her head. “Lady, you must understand I can offer no certainties.” No one could. “I am but an apprentice.”
No answer, and when she looked up, Lijuan was gone. As if she’d turned into her noncorporeal form. Even as Andromeda’s breath caught at this evidence of Lijuan’s “evolution,” she wondered if the choice to become noncorporeal had been a conscious one. It seemed to her that Lijuan had simply been too tired to hold the physical manifestation of her form.
“I hope for your sake that you do not lie.” Xi’s voice was a scalpel.
“I would be a fool to lie.” She was proud her voice didn’t tremble. “There is nowhere I can go to escape punishment.”
13
Naasir entered citadel territory after nightfall.
Jason’s spies in the villages that lay directly below the flight paths to that citadel had confirmed that Xi and his squadron had flown in at dawn the previous day. They’d been carrying an unknown burden in a sling.
Andromeda.
A growl built in his throat at the idea of Andromeda trapped and treated like prey.
But his anger turned into a teeth-baring smile the next second. Because Andromeda wasn’t prey. However, she was smart enough to fool Xi and Lijuan into believing such, so that she’d be left alone to think up an escape. Gritting his teeth at the realization she might try it before he was there to help watch her back, he continued to lope through forests in the shadow of mountains, just another shadow among shadows.
The sky hung low and sullen above him.
It was in the last patch of forest before the grasslands that Jason had told him surrounded the citadel that he caught the ugly, rotting scent that denoted the presence of the reborn. He hissed out a breath. The world believed Lijuan’s infectious creations erased from the earth, but clearly, she’d managed to save this nest. To survive, the reborn must’ve been allowed to feed on mortal or immortal flesh—or had been fed.
Naasir wanted to kill each and every one, but Andromeda was waiting for him.
An angry, rumbling sound vibrating in his chest, he avoided the creatures—not difficult given their stench to his sensitive sense of smell—and made his way to the grasslands. Those grasslands were a good precaution by Lijuan’s generals, ensuring a direct line of sight for the sentries.
Too bad the grasses had been allowed to grow to knee-high. That was plenty long enough to hide Naasir’s form, such grasses an environment which part of his nature knew how to utilize instinctively. He reached the outer wall of the citadel without being spotted. From there, it wasn’t difficult to avoid the vampiric guards, but it did take precise timing to make sure he remained unseen by the winged squadron.
He could smell rain on the winds. That could be an asset or it might be a threat. It would depend on the skills of the woman with secrets who smelled like his mate. The heavy cloud cover was an undisputed gift, hiding as it did the light of the moon. Naasir could use the moon’s light to his advantage, his body a rippling ghost, but Andromeda’s lickable, honeyed skin would’ve been spotlighted by it.
Prowling along the edges of the wall, he watched the guards, listened to their conversations, and when one of them went to answer the call of nature just as the sentry in the sky angled off in another direction, he slipped over the wall right under their noses.
Cunning and stealthy and unseen.
Reminding himself of Jason’s words, he spilled no blood and left no trace of his presence as he went over the second wall and jumped down into the inner courtyard. He landed in an easy crouch on the cobblestones, his bare feet absorbing the impact through his entire body without giving him a hard jolt.
Slightly spoiled meat and blood and the ugly miasma of fear.
A predator at home in the moonless night, he made his way toward the tainted meat that must’ve been lying in