Archangel's Storm

he added on the heels of the mental confirmation.
    Turning, she leaned her back against the bench that held the pot with the yellow flowers, the plant waiting to be transplanted into the larger pot beside it. Jason stood just inside the doorway, his wings caressed by the curling green of a vine that poured from a hanging basket. He should’ve looked too hard, too dark for this place, but somehow, he fit.
    Wild
, she thought, he is as wild a thing as these plants. They were only temporarily tamed by the greenhouse—left on their own, they would sprawl and spread until the glass walls were a sea of green. Jason, too, was only tame when he wished to be, a storm held fiercely in check.
    “Is the house vacant?” she asked this compelling mystery of a man who had once sworn a blood vow to her. No . . . wait. “Jason, who releases the blood vow?” His task had been for Neha, but it was Mahiya’s blood through which the vow had been made.
    He went so motionless, she could almost believe he was not there. “The party to whom it is made.”
    “Oh, I didn’t know. Then I release you.” She didn’t want him tied to her by a forced bond of any kind. “Is that all I need to say to do so?”
    “Yes.” His stillness didn’t abate. “Caretakers alone live on the property,” he said, answering her earlier question. “Trusted vampires recommended to me by Dmitri—they would be glad to see the house come alive again. They prefer to make their home in a separate building, but it’s mere seconds away on foot.”
    “The property, is it nearby?” The gleaming city across from the Enclave wasn’t right for her, but she didn’t want to be so far from it that she couldn’t nurture the fledgling friendships she’d made—with Elena, with a vampire named Miri who worked in the Tower, but who had been at the Angel Enclave house several times this past week. For a woman who had never been free to have friends, these were cherished gifts.
    “Three hours of flight at an average pace, ninety minutes if you push yourself,” Jason said. “It’s a large estate, enough that no one will be able to come upon you without running afoul of the security system but not so isolated that you need ever be alone should you wish for company.”
    It sounded perfect, but she had expected no less from the best spymaster in the Cadre, the man who knew people better than they knew themselves. But, did Jason know himself? Lips curving, she crossed the distance to him, put her hands against his chest, unsure of herself and of him in this new place, but unwilling to surrender the claim she’d made.
    His arm came around her without hesitation, his fingers splaying on her lower back. “Do you wish to see the house?”
    “Yes.” It felt so good to be near him again. “I am falling ever further in debt to you.”
    “This is no debt, Mahiya.” His hand moved in a gentle circle on her back. “Not between us.”
    Her heart kicked, and she wanted to snatch at his words, force him to explain himself, but such demands would never work with this man. “No,” she said, “you must allow me to repay you in some way until I have the funds to clear the loan.” She pushed off his chest just enough that she could look up into his face. “My home will be yours, so long as you wish it to be.”
    A flicker in his eyes, but his response was a quiet incline of his head, an acceptance.
    The wickedness in her, born of the same will that had kept her personality her own all these years, stretched awake after a lifetime of restraint. “Since I will not have enough money to repay any loan for years, perhaps I’ll beg your indulgence with sensual favors.”
    Darkness shadowing his face, his hand falling away to leave her bereft. “I would not ask such of you.”
    Laughing, she cupped his face. “Jason, I’m teasing you.” She had never initiated a kiss, but encouraged by the way he’d returned her touch, she did so now, sipping and tasting at those firm, beautiful lips until he held her again. “Any sensuality I share with you is freely given, and always will be.”
    He pressed her closer to his body with the hand he had on her lower back, his free hand rising to angle her chin exactly as he liked, and then he took control of the kiss, stroking his tongue against her own in a caress that made her toes curl, the black fire of him a dark, beautiful thing.
You should not tease me so, Mahiya.
    Someone must.
Heart racing at the sinful perfection of him,