Archangel's Storm

right—she needs to get the basics down first before I start pushing her again, or she’ll make stupid mistakes speed alone can’t cure.”
    “Who’s undertaking her physical training with Honor out of the city?”
    “Ashwini.” Venom’s face thawed, his lips twitching a fraction. “You know what she did to Janvier the last time they met?”
    “Honey was involved.” Jason had watched the hunter and the vampire spar since their first meeting, never quite understanding their relationship—they were adversaries one minute, determined to run each other to the ground, and allies the next. It was Janvier Ashwini had taken with her when she’d needed to work in Nazarach’s dangerous territory, and it was Janvier whose sapphire pendant the hunter wore around her neck. Yet, as far as he knew, they had never been bedmates.
    “Why don’t they just sleep with one another?” he asked Venom, wondering if he’d missed a subtle nuance in their relationship.
    Venom’s chuckle was quiet, his eyes eerie in the sunshine as he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. “That is an enduring mystery.” He cocked his head. “Who is that very pretty woman coming this way?”
    Jason didn’t need to follow Venom’s gaze—he could feel Mahiya’s presence as a gentle heat against his wings. “The Princess Mahiya, and she is mine.” He had no right to make such a claim, but Venom had a way of charming women when he was in the mood, and Jason discovered he did not wish Mahiya to be charmed.
    “Ah.” The vampire turned and jumped off the gate with an insouciant carelessness that had Mahiya’s hand slapping over her heart.
    But Venom came to a crouching landing on his toes, lithe as a cat. Landing beside him, Jason watched Mahiya rather than Venom as the vampire rose and bent over her hand. “Impossible as it seems, I do not believe we have ever met.”
    Mahiya’s fascinated gaze lingered on Venom’s eyes as he lifted his head and released her hand. “No . . . but I have heard of the vampire with the viper’s eyes. You were based at the Delhi court in the main.”
    “I was,” Venom agreed, “but I visited here more than once. You must’ve been studying at the Refuge.”
    “Yes. I believe you had sworn allegiance to Raphael by the time I returned to the fort.”
    Jason caught the fine tremor that rippled over Mahiya’s skin as she spoke of a homecoming that must have been a terrifying experience for a young girl, and spread his wing just enough that it brushed over her own. It was an intimacy, and one she had not offered, one he’d never have initiated had he stopped to think about it, yet instead of flinching, she relaxed.
    “It’s good to finally make your acquaintance,” she said to Venom, genuine warmth in her tone. “Neha has always said you were one of her proudest Makings.”
    Venom’s grin was sharp, his next words directed at Jason. “Shall we meet over dinner?”
    “Come to Mahiya’s palace.”
    “Until then.” He kissed Mahiya’s hand again before departing.
    Jason traced Mahiya’s profile with his gaze as she watched the vampire leave. “You had no hesitation in allowing him to touch you.”
    “I think it was the shock first of all—those eyes . . .” She shook her head. “And then I saw he was your friend.”
    A fine crack, something fundamental breaking inside him.
    Mahiya continued to speak when he didn’t reply. “Neha has tried to recreate the effect you know, and some of her Made have the slightest sense of it, but never has she succeeded as she did with Venom.”
    “He will be pleased to know he is unique,” Jason said, examining the fissure she’d created in his shields, the damage deep, repair no simple matter.
    Mahiya’s bright eyes smiled at him. “You go to speak to the ladies-in-waiting?”
    He took so long in replying her smiled faded, her expression intent. And he knew that he would touch her again should she give the slightest encouragement, his body hungry not just for sensation, but for the mystery and—when her guard dropped—the inexplicable sweetness that was Mahiya.
     

18
    M ahiya watched after Jason’s black-winged form as he rose up into the sky, the tiny hairs on her arms still standing up in reaction at the look she’d caught in his eyes. The primal response wasn’t fed by alarm or fear, but a passion that was no simple physical craving. Jason fascinated her on many levels. He was a rough-edged carving, a beautiful man she had the