was a burn in Andromeda’s blood, but she forced herself to think. “We can break your wing.” That, too, would hurt, but it shouldn’t cause unconsciousness or the kind of blood loss that came with excision.
Andromeda had experienced a broken wing herself as a much younger angel, after being caught in a sudden draft that slammed her into the gorge wall, understood the resulting level of pain—and from what she’d seen, Suyin had developed a much higher pain threshold as a result of the repeated wing excisions. “Once it’s broken,” Andromeda added, “we can strap it tight to your back.” Like a folded-in fan, so it wouldn’t gather air.
Suyin took a deep breath, nodded. “Bones heal.”
Naasir closed the distance to her on that soft permission. Picking up a small cushion that had been lying on one of the sofas, he gave it to her. “Muffle your pain.”
While Naasir did the horrible task and Suyin bore it, Andromeda stepped onto a chair and removed the swords mounted on the wall. They may have been intended to taunt and terrorize Suyin, but they had razored edges and handled well. Conscious she’d need a scabbard if she was to carry both, she reluctantly left one behind.
As for her knives, she set them aside for Suyin; the other angel had no training with the sword, would find it unwieldy. Knives, however, were instinctive to use.
That done, she took the sword to the unfortunately white sheets on Suyin’s bed. By the time she’d finished slicing them up, Naasir had also completed his grim chore. Suyin’s wing hung limp, and though the angel’s face was as bone white as her hair, she’d held on to consciousness. Using the long strips of cloth, Andromeda and Naasir together strapped the broken-and-folded wing to Suyin’s body. “We’re almost done,” she reassured Suyin when the other woman’s body shuddered.
Wrapping the final strip of fabric around Suyin’s ribs, she tied it off. “Done.” She didn’t stop to think—she enclosed the much older angel gently in her arms and held her, rocking softly until Suyin drew in a shaky breath and pulled back.
“You were strong,” Naasir said, approval in his tone as he slid away what looked like a small phone. “Is your balance better?”
Taking the knives Andromeda handed her, Suyin walked, then ran quietly around the suite. “Yes, but I’m not used to heavy exercise.”
“We won’t be running hard.” Naasir came over to Andromeda to tug at her braid. “Ready?”
She held up the sword. Its deadly edge gleamed in the light.
Naasir grinned as Suyin smiled in angry satisfaction. “What a beautiful irony that the instrument of my torture will now help us escape.”
“I’ve contacted Jason,” Naasir told them both, and suddenly, he was the dangerous man who was part of an archangel’s innermost circle. “He’ll soon cause a disturbance in another section of the citadel—when he does, you must become my shadows.” An order. “I am the alpha. You follow.” His extraordinary eyes held Andromeda’s. “Not for always. For this.”
Andromeda was oddly pleased that he’d clarified his statement. “Until we escape,” she agreed.
Naasir went silent, his head slightly bent. Then he grinned again, his teeth bright white against the lush dark of his skin. “Jason is very clever.”
Andromeda didn’t know what he’d heard, but the ground vibrated with the thunder of running feet seconds later. All were heading to the other side of the compound. Screams sounded soon afterward.
“Reborn,” Naasir said with a feral smile. “Jason has driven them home.” A deep breath that made his eyes glint. “And he’s set a fire.” Opening the door, he said, “There is no one here now. Let’s play.”
14
Let’s play.
The statement should’ve sounded dismissive given the level of danger, but it made Andromeda grin. When she glanced at Suyin, she saw the other woman was also smiling—an astonished, startled kind of a smile. Naasir had that effect. Together, the three of them moved quickly down the corridor. Naasir made no noise; Andromeda and Suyin weren’t as quiet, but they did their best.
When Naasir held up a hand, she froze and caught Suyin when the wounded angel would’ve stumbled. Lifting a finger to his lips, Naasir jumped. He was on the ceiling before Andromeda knew what was happening. Her mouth dried up. Watching him make his way around the corner, she had to force herself not to follow on foot, her protective instincts bristling.
He returned not long afterward. When they turned the corner, she saw one of her vampiric escorts propped up against the