“Andromeda.” Jessamy tilted her head a touch to the side. “Is everything all right?”
Realizing she’d been standing frozen in place as she watched the vampire who wasn’t a vampire walk toward her, she forced her stiff muscles to move. “Yes, of course,” she managed to get out. “Just lost in thought.”
Jessamy took her words at face value, her concern segueing into an affectionate smile as she touched her fingers to Naasir’s arm. “I wanted to introduce Naasir to you before dinner. You’ll eat with us?”
Heart pounding as if she’d flown a hard physical race, Andromeda went to say that she’d rather be alone so she could finish her last-minute research, when Naasir moved. He was less than an inch from her before she knew what was happening. Nostrils flaring and that impossible silver hair sliding forward over his luscious skin, he lowered his face to her throat.
Her blood roared to that pulse point even as her hand closed over the hilt of the blade.
3
Naasir drew in a long, deep breath and felt his mouth water. She smelled right, smelled like his mate should smell. He wasn’t sure she was his mate yet, especially since she was so small and had such big, scared eyes, but he knew he wanted to lick her, taste her, bite her.
About to nuzzle at her, he heard Jessamy’s voice. “Naasir.”
Realizing he’d done something uncivilized in his excitement, he forced himself to step back, but he couldn’t stop looking at the delicious-smelling angel. She had skin like honey. He liked honey. He had a feeling he’d like licking her skin just as much. Her eyes were a translucent brown with a bright golden starburst around the pupil.
Pretty.
Her wings, from what he could see of them, were a rich shade close to the dark chocolate Honor liked to eat.
And her hair, it was a thick, silky-looking golden brown. It was in a braid right now, but he could tell it would be curly if let out; he already had plans to undo the braid so he could play with it. Of course, first he’d have to convince her he wasn’t planning to eat her. “Hello,” he said, on his best behavior now. “I just wanted to smell you.”
“Oh.” Lines between her eyebrows, the tone of her voice making him want to close his eyes and just listen. “Do you sniff everyone you meet?”
Smiling inside at the curiosity she couldn’t quite hide, he said, “No.” He drew in her scent again, careful to make it appear he was simply breathing. “Only women.”
“Why?”
“I’m hunting my mate.”
A sudden, dazzling smile, all her fear erased in a single heartbeat. “I suppose that makes sense.” Then she turned to Jessamy, as if everything was explained. As the two women spoke, he stood there confused. Nothing was explained. She smelled right, smelled delicious. He wanted to taste her.
Why didn’t she consider him a threat any longer?
Vow of celibacy.
He scowled at the reminder. Just because she’d taken a vow didn’t mean he was no threat. Only . . . He bit back a satisfied smile. The delicious-smelling angel thought she was safe so she’d probably allow him close to her, close enough that he could determine if she was or wasn’t his mate.
In truth, enticing though she was, he couldn’t see how she could be his—she looked very breakable and soft, but he wasn’t about to give up without determining the truth. Perhaps he was meant to have a breakable mate, though that seemed ridiculous to him.
Or perhaps she was hiding her real self.
The idea his maybe-mate might have a secret side fascinated him.
* * *
Andromeda had intended to say no to the dinner invitation from Jessamy. It wasn’t because she didn’t enjoy eating with her mentor and the weapons-master—they were two of her most favorite people in the whole world and had accepted her for who she was, seeing the woman she’d become and not the bloodline that marked her.
As for Venom, the vampire having become a familiar sight at Jessamy’s dinner table since his transfer to the Refuge, he had a biting sense of humor and a cool intelligence Andromeda appreciated.
It wasn’t even because Naasir unsettled her.
It was because she knew Jessamy had been looking forward to Naasir’s arrival, as had Galen and Venom. The four were old friends, with the three males allied to the same archangel, and she didn’t want to intrude.
However, when she opened her mouth to say no, Naasir sniffed at her again, the masculine heat of his body pressing against her, and her words deserted her. “You can’t do that,” she said when she could speak again—by which time Jessamy had taken her silence for assent and the three of them were halfway to Jessamy and Galen’s home.
Wild silver eyes looked at her in utter innocence. “What?”
“Sniff people.”
Naasir shrugged . . . and sniffed her, heavy silver strands of his hair brushing her skin. “Sorry.”
Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips. “You’re not sorry in the least.”
Jessamy’s gentle laughter filled the air. “Don’t let him tease you, Andromeda. He’s an expert at it.”
Andromeda decided to ignore the prowling vampire who wasn’t a vampire by her side. Except it was all but impossible to ignore Naasir, especially when he was determined not to be ignored. He picked up her braid and tugged on it. When she pulled it away, he pinched the light fabric of her gown between his fingertips and rubbed.
Stepping away didn’t stop him. He just stepped with her.
By the time Jessamy went on ahead, waving at Galen and Venom—who were waiting out in the courtyard—Andromeda wanted to snarl. Tugging away her braid one more time, she spun around to face the silver-eyed menace. “Can you not act civilized for a minute?”