Page 36 of The Seeker
“Your soul must be only yours, for it is the one thing you will ever truly own.”
Anamitra had waited hundreds of years for an heir. She could never allow her life to end because of love. Never would she allow her legacy to fade because her heart was wounded. From the time Meera understood the bond of mates, Anamitra had made it clear that areshonwas a dangerous indulgence Meera was not allowed to have.
Which meant the sound of Rhys’s soul voicemightmake him the most dangerous man she had ever met.
Vasu appeared next to her in his adult form. “You are troubled.”
“Yes.”
“Because of the scribe?” Vasu cocked his head and took the pan Meera was washing. He tugged it from her and set it on the tile counter. “Shall I remove him?”
Meera picked up the pan and reached for a towel to dry it. “No, Vasu. Don’t kill him.”
“I could take him back to Istanbul.”
A knot of inevitable dread sat in her belly. “He would come back.”
“Then I shall kill him if he displeases you.”
“No.” She dried off the pan and hung it on the hook above the counter. “Did my aunt let you kill people for her?”
“Sometimes.”
Meera froze, but only for a heartbeat. No, that should not surprise her. Though Anamitra was a scholar, she was also ruthless in protecting her family. If a human or Grigori had threatened her, she would have no qualms about allowing Vasu—with his inexplicable loyalty—dispatch him or her.
Her great-aunt would likely have approved Rhys’s actions.
Vasu, bored by Meera’s kitchen chores, sat on the table and put bare feet on her kitchen chair. “There is a dark shadow around you.”
“The scribe killed a Grigori in front of me.”
“Yes, I saw.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
Vasu shrugged. “He wasn’t one of mine.”
“I thought you didn’t have any children left.”
“I have a few.” His eyes drifted to the side. “Human women do not interest me any longer.”
Meera cleared off the counter and hopped up, putting her at eye level with the fallen angel. “Did human women ever interest you? Really?”
The corner of Vasu’s mouth turned up. “Oh yes.”
“When you were young.”
“Was I?” Vasu frowned. “Yes, I suppose.”
“Were you ever a child?”
“Not as you think of one.” He squinted at her. “Why are you asking about me? You know I don’t like answering questions.”
“I’m sad,” she said. “Cheer me up.”
“That scribe is connected to you.”
Meera rolled her eyes. “That is not cheering me up.”
