Nalini Singh: Archangel's Enigma

Thick socks, his scuffed and worn-in boots with their special ice-grip soles, and he was done.

It wasn’t that he really needed any of it. He wasn’t going to freeze, his blood too hot. But who said not freezing was the only thing? He fucking hated being cold. He hoped his mate wasn’t someone who liked the cold and wanted to live in snow without heat to offset the natural temperature. That would be terrible. He’d have to persuade her to move to an in-between climate that was cold but not subzero, but if she didn’t want to come, he’d stay. Of course he’d stay.

If he could ever find her.

Shoving his dirty clothes into the duffel, he saw a glint inside. When he tugged on the glint, he found it was a thick identity bracelet in brushed metal. Admiring the way his name scrolled across the bar, he tore off the little card attached to it.

Be careful and don’t forget to wear your scarf. I also swapped out your socks for better ones and put gloves in the front pocket. ~ xo Honor

He smiled and put on the bracelet before tucking the card carefully into an inner pocket. One tug, two, and the lined black leather gloves were on. Flexing his toes inside the socks, he wrapped the dark green wool scarf around his neck and lower face, then slung the duffel over his shoulder again. “I’ll be careful,” he promised. “My mate is waiting for me.”

He could almost hear Honor’s laughter. The last time he’d said that to her, she’d asked him a question. “What if she’s annoyed with you because you made her wait all this time? What then?”

Naasir had been stumped for a while—he’d never really thought about the fact that maybe his mate had lived longer than him, had been waiting for him to be ready. Things like that did happen. Honor was younger than Dmitri, but Jessamy was older than Galen.

“I’ll court her,” he’d said after careful thought. “I’ll convince her the wait was worth it.”

That in mind, he filled the remaining hours of his journey to the Refuge with courtship plans. It almost made him forget the brittle cold and the sheer danger of the ice, the jagged rocks around him not looming threats but familiar adversaries. Unlike the hapless climbers who, between them, had broken countless limbs before ever getting this far, Naasir knew how to navigate the sharp natural teeth that guarded the angelic stronghold. He didn’t need to walk. He could run, his booted feet sure on the glaciers and ice sheets he preferred over the deep snow, and his eyes seeing every risk.

When the shadow of large wings swept over him as the sun was about to sink below the horizon, he looked up. Vivid red hair lit to scarlet brilliance by the final rays of the sun and dark gray wings striated with white, Galen dipped his wings to acknowledge Naasir’s wave, then circled around to land not far away.

“Were you watching for me?” Naasir asked upon reaching the wide-shouldered male.

“I was expecting to have to go out to the foothills.” The weapons-master embraced Naasir in a backslapping hug that almost knocked him off his feet, Galen was so strong. “You must’ve cut at least two hours off your previous time.”

“I’m faster.” He was growing in ways even Keir didn’t understand and the healer understood many things; all anyone knew was that while Naasir was an adult full grown, his abilities and gifts hadn’t yet settled into their final form.

You are the only one of your kind ever to survive to adulthood. There is no blueprint for your development, no way of predicting your ultimate strength.

“When you have time, we’ll have to test how much faster.” Galen’s voice broke into the echo of Keir’s words. “Are you planning to run the entire way in?”

“Yes.” Naasir had been carried by angels as a child and he’d liked it. No longer. Now he wanted the ground beneath his feet—he didn’t even like riding in the baskets the squadrons utilized to ferry in non-winged guests. “Tell Jessamy I’m coming for dinner.”

His smile reaching the unusually pale green of his eyes, Galen spread his wings. “She’s been watching for you since dawn.”

That delighted Naasir. Waiting until Galen had taken off in a powerful beat of wings that drew a flurry of snow up into the air, Naasir stepped up his pace even further, until to anyone watching, he’d have been a blur. More wings passed overhead an hour later, the aerial traffic increasing steadily until he began to hear the rush of landings, the beat of takeoffs, the laughter and conversation of people going about their lives.

The sky was a soft black broken only by several early stars when the snow suddenly ended, warmer air against his chilled face.

He went straight to Jessamy and Galen’s house on the cliff.

“Naasir!” A vampire, his poison-green eyes slitted like those of a viper and his dark, dark brown hair having grown to touch the collar of his T-shirt, caught him in an embrace on the paved yard outside the house.

Slapping Venom on the back, Naasir dropped his duffel to the paving stones, the small yard edged with pots bursting with flowers. “I see Galen hasn’t broken you yet.” He took in the younger man’s jeans and simple black T-shirt. “No more suits?” Venom was well known for his dangerously elegant appearance, his grace as liquid as it was lethal.

“Who cares about suits when I’m getting my ass handed to me in the training ring every day.” Venom winced and pointed to a blue-black bruise on his jaw, the color vivid against the warm brown of his skin. “Sometimes I’m not sure if Galen’s teaching me or trying to kill me.”

Naasir bared his teeth. “If Galen was trying to kill you, you’d know.” The weapons-master didn’t fight like Naasir or Venom, his style heavier and more steady, but he was a brutal and deadly force. “He’ll toughen you up.” Venom was a dangerous cub who had the gift of deadly poison in his blood, but at just over three hundred and fifty, he was the youngest of the Seven.

He needed a little more tempering.

“There you are!” Jessamy ran out of the cottage, the misty yellow of her airy ankle-length gown frothing around her legs and the chestnut waves of her hair woven into a loose braid. Her lush brown eyes glowed with welcome against the cream of her skin, her smile luminous.

Grabbing her tall and delicately slender form up in his arms, his skin brushing the insides of her wings, Naasir spun her around and around until she protested. “Oh, I have missed you,” she said with water shining in her eyes, before cupping his face and kissing him on both cheeks. “Come inside. I have a drink waiting for you.”

His stomach rumbled right on cue, but he hadn’t forgotten his mission. “The scholar, she’s safe?”

“Yes, she’s working in the Library. I thought you could rest and have a snack before I introduced you two—I’m planning on inviting her to dinner with us.”

Walking with Jessamy and Venom into the cottage just as Galen landed behind them, Naasir released a quiet breath. It was good to be with family again.

Andromeda tried to focus on the illuminated manuscript she’d placed on a stand at the back of the Library, but all she could see were the words of the letter that had come for her an hour earlier.

In twenty-two days, you turn four hundred. You have had many years of indulgence. We have allowed you all of it—even when you chose to forsake your bloodline.

It is now time to return home and undertake your obligation to your family and to your archangel. We shall expect you for the start of the ceremonial celebrations six days prior to your day of birth, following which, you will go to your grandfather’s court to take up your position by his side.