Jason pulled out a map from a pocket, unfolded it.
For the next ten minutes, Naasir contained his impatience and listened and learned. He was smart. Dmitri had told him that as a child when he’d refused to go to Jessamy’s school; the older vampire had found him sitting atop a high shelf in the stronghold library, arms folded and face set.
He’d pretended he was being stubborn because he didn’t want to go, but really, he hadn’t known how to be like the other children, how to understand the words he’d seen Jessamy write on the board when he’d snuck over there to peek through the windows.
“You’re clever,” Dmitri had said, hunkering down in front of him after ordering him down. “You have more smarts than many an adult.”
“Then why do I need to study?”
“Because it’ll give you another weapon.” Dmitri’s dark eyes hadn’t moved from his, the fact he was a far more dangerous predator calming to Naasir. No one could harm him or make him do bad things while he was in a family with Raphael and Dmitri.
“Else,” Dmitri had continued, “others will be able to do things behind your back, have secrets you can’t unravel.”
Naasir hated the idea of being shut out, so he’d gone to school. It had been difficult for him to stay still for long periods, but Jessamy hadn’t thrown him out, even when he climbed the wall to cling to the ceiling. She’d smiled instead and continued to teach and he’d learned his words. He’d even learned sums. And somewhere along the way, he’d made friends who liked to do wild, naughty things with him.
One parent had been so angry at a game he’d taught her son that she’d marched in and demanded “the savage brat” be removed from the school. Naasir had gone quiet that day. Dmitri wasn’t there to protect him and the angel who’d marched to the school was powerful, much more powerful than thin, breakable Jessamy.
He’d been ready to claw the powerful angel if she dared hurt his gentle teacher, but to his shock, he’d seen Jessamy face down the other woman without once raising her voice. That was when he’d understood two fascinating things:
One—Jessamy didn’t just tolerate him, she was willing to fight for him; she liked him.
Two—sometimes, you could win a fight without claws.
Today, it was the latter lesson that he kept at the forefront of his mind. “What if Andromeda is being held in one of these places?” He pointed out what Jason said was the central throne room, as well as several other public areas.
“You wait.” Jason put away the map after confirming Naasir had memorized it. “Even if she’s being hurt, even if she’s screaming and begging, you wait.”
Naasir’s claws wanted to release again. “Would you wait if your princess was being hurt?” Naasir didn’t yet know Jason’s mate well, but he’d danced with her during a dinner at Elena and Raphael’s home. She was young and sweet and not at all dangerous. Because he respected Jason, Naasir had been very careful not to scare her.
Jason’s expression was unreadable, but Naasir had known him for centuries, felt the storm crackling in the air. “If I knew that to rush in would equal further torture for her, yes,” Jason said at last. “If you go in, you’ll die or be taken hostage. Lijuan will use you to make her talk, or to take revenge against Raphael. Either way, you’ll be useless to Andromeda. So you wait. Even if she bleeds.”
Naasir flexed and unflexed his hands, a growl rumbling in his chest. “I want to hurt you right now.”
“You know I speak the truth.”