“I will find her.” With that promise, Naasir raced out and followed Andromeda’s scent to a point on the cliff where it disappeared without a trace. She’d either flown off in an effort to evade Xi and his squadron, or been pushed off.
A few steps to the left and he confirmed it had been Xi who little Sam had seen. The general’s scent was familiar to Naasir after the years Naasir had spent in the Refuge. Xi’s scent, too, disappeared without a trace.
Aware he was racing against time, Naasir ran to the weapons arena where Galen was readying his squadron for an early-morning drill. The weapons-master took his men and women immediately into the air on hearing Naasir’s report, arrowing out on the flight path Sam had indicated.
Naasir didn’t stop. He made his way to Astaad’s Refuge territory and quickly located Dahariel. For the cruel, dangerous angel to have taught Andromeda to fight without ever making any demands on her pointed to a deeper emotional connection than Andromeda realized.
Dahariel was not known for his kindness.
The other man’s gaze glittered with ice on hearing Naasir’s report. “I’ll take my squadron to join Galen’s,” he said, his tone as cold. “You’re certain Sameon saw what he believes he saw? He is only a child.”
“Yes.” Sam didn’t lie and he was clever. “I’ll search the Refuge in case Xi doubled back and hid her here.”
A sharp nod and Dahariel lifted off on powerful wings patterned like those of an eagle, in shades of brown and black. It was possible the aerial pursuit would catch up to Xi and his men—had Illium been here, that would’ve been a certainty. But the blue-winged angel was in New York, his speed unavailable. And Xi had a head start. All he’d have to do to evade detection was take an atypical route or set down in a hidden area until nightfall.
Teeth gritted, Naasir snuck into Lijuan’s Refuge territory. There was no sign of Andromeda. Neither was there any sign of her in the Refuge territories of any of the other archangels. Her scent was freshest at the clifftop and even that had faded by the time he completed his intensive ground search.
Galen’s and Dahariel’s squadrons didn’t return until after the sun fell and the stars blazed.
They didn’t have Andromeda.
Naasir knew she had to be halfway to China by this point. To find her, he’d have to penetrate the lair of nightmare.
6
Raphael was sweat-slicked after a practice session with the dual blades he liked to use in combat, when Montgomery came out into the yard of Raphael and Elena’s Enclave home. It overlooked the Hudson, and across it, the steel and glass of Manhattan. Yes, Montgomery? he said without stopping the fury of the blades.
His consort would be bitterly disappointed to return home from her hunt to discover he’d taken time for a session. She loved to watch him, but even Elena, brave and brash and magnificent, didn’t attempt to join him. “I can’t so much as separate out your movements, you’re so fast when you do that,” she’d said the last time she watched him, her eyes sparking with unhidden appreciation. “And I’m quite fond of my head and would like to keep it attached to my body.”
“As would I,” he’d said before taking her to the grass for another kind of sweaty, heated battle.
The truth was that no one in his territory could do this particular exercise with him. Not even his deadly second. Of the archangels, Neha alone had the skill, speed, and strength. The others preferred different weapons, but 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.