Naasir felt the same way about pain as he did about cold: he could bear it, but he didn’t choose it. However, he understood Jason’s choice to go through the grueling process that meant the tattoo would “stick” to his immortal skin. The tattoo was like Naasir’s stripes—an acknowledgment of the wildness inside Jason.
Now, Jason spread out the midnight of his wings to stretch them, then folded them back in, the smooth motion a wave of silent darkness. He was the only angel Naasir knew who could, when he wished, move his wings with zero sound. No susurration, no rustle, nothing but pure silence.
“I’ve confirmed the scholar has been taken to Lijuan’s central citadel.”
Naasir bit back a harsh, nonhuman sound at Jason’s words. He had no argument with the spymaster’s intelligence—Jason was never wrong about things like this. It was the idea of Andromeda shut up with Lijuan’s ugliness that made his claws emerge, the curved blades gleaming even in the murky light. “Can you get her out?” he asked, because getting Andromeda to safety was the important thing, not who did it, and the skyroad was faster than the ground.
Jason shook his head. “Not alone. Also, the fact she doesn’t know me could cause a dangerous delay.”
“Then we go in together, get her out.”
“You’ll need to practice patience for this, Naasir.” Jason closed the short distance between them. “I know you can get in, but we have to get in and out with her without being seen and without alerting her guards.”
“You’re strong. You can kill them.” He’d seen Jason’s black fire ignite the sky. “I’ll help you.” Naasir could fight many men at once.
“We’re not strong enough to defeat the sheer number of troops stationed in and around the citadel.” Jason’s voice was quiet but hard, demanding attention. “You must use the primal part of your nature in this. You must be cunning and stealthy and unseen.”
Naasir flexed his fingers and thought about what Jason had said. “Can I kill some of them?” They had taken—and probably scared, maybe hurt—someone in his care; he wanted to mete out punishment.
“Only if it won’t lead to us being exposed.”
Forcing his claws back in, he stared at Jason. “All right,” he said at last, trusting Jason’s advice because Jason was one of his family and had stood with Naasir whenever it was necessary. “I can get in—but if I’m to get Andromeda out without Xi’s forces being aware of it, you need to tell me the layout of the citadel.”
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.