by Keri Arthur
I told him what I’d read, and he shook his head. “That’s not much to go on.”
“No. We need to sit down and try to work out the possibilities.” I hesitated. “We’ll need Lucian’s help.”
“There is no need—”
“Azriel,” I said wearily, “right now I have a friend who may or may not die, another who is scared out of her wits, and I’m injured and tired. I just need it all to be finished. I don’t really care what you do or don’t think about Lucian. I think we need his help when we go get the keys, and I’m going to use him, whether you like it or not.”
“Tao won’t die,” he said. “And you must live with whatever consequences arise out of using the Aedh.”
Knowing Tao would live didn’t relieve any of the tension still riding me, because living and remaining the man we’d grown up with and loved were two entirely seperate things.
“Azriel, I’ve been living with the goddamn consequences ever since you, the Raziq, and my father all decided to screw up my life!” I thrust a hand through my sweaty hair and sighed. Arguing with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel. I’m gathering it’ll still be safe there?”
He shrugged. “It’s probably safer than your apartment.”
“Then I’ll see you there.”
He nodded and winked out of existence. I reached for my phone and called Lucian.
“Hey,” he said, his vid-screen dark and voice brisk, almost edgy. I’d obviously caught him in the middle of something. Or someone.
“Hey, yourself,” I said. “You interested in meeting me at the hotel for a little key-finding strategy?”
Excitement swelled in his voice but didn’t really lift the edginess. “You’ve read the book?”
“Some of it. Unfortunately, we were attacked before I could read all of it.”
“Unfortunate, as you said.” He paused. “But afterward?”
“Afterward we were attacked by elementals and the book was incinerated.”
He snorted. “You’re not having a good run of luck, are you?”
“No, but we’ve got enough to at least find the first key. That’s a place to start.”
“I agree. Where would you like me to meet you?”
“I’m heading back to the hotel now.”
“Then I’ll see you there in twenty minutes.” He hung up, leaving me staring at the black screen, wondering why our short, sharp conversation had my senses tingling.
I frowned, but shoved the concern aside as I put my phone into my pocket. Holding it tight, I reached inside and unleashed the Aedh. Her energy didn’t rush through me—indeed, it was little more than a trickle, as if there was an inner awareness that I’d pushed my limits and was walking the edge of exhaustion.
The change swept over me gently, shifting me from one to the other. Even in Aedh form, I felt heavy, as if I was weighed down by more than my own flesh. And I guess I was, I thought, suddenly remembering Amaya. God, I had to hope that she didn’t become a part of me for real when I re-formed.
I headed back for Melbourne and the Langham. Neither Azriel nor Lucian was in the room when I arrived, and of that I was glad. I re-formed flesh, not only imagining the sword as a separate entity but, for the first time, imagining my wounds as fully healed. I hit the floor with a heavy splat that left me shuddering in pain and gasping for breath, my head spinning so badly I wavered between wanting to throw up and falling into unconsciousness.
“You are such a fool, Risa Jones.” The words seemed to come out of nowhere. I’d been so distressed that I hadn’t even felt the heat of Azriel’s presence.
Yeah, I wanted to reply, you’re not telling me anything I don’t know.
Hands touched me and energy flowed from them, bright and sharp and reviving. I wanted to jerk away from it—tell him I didn’t need his help—but the truth was, I did. If I wanted to see this craziness through to the end, then I had to at least be able to open my eyes and walk. Right now neither of those seemed a possibility.
The energy continued to flow, and my body grew warm again. I opened my eyes and met his. “Thank you, Azriel, but that’s enough.”
He raised an eyebrow, but did as I bid and took his hands from my side. “You are not yet at full strength.”
“No, but giving me strength more than likely drains you, and it’s more important that you’re whole than me. You’re a better fighter.”
“Having seen you fight, I’m not entirely certain that’s true.”
I snorted softly, and regretted the action almost immediately. “God,” I groaned, “whatever you do, don’t make me laugh. I think I’ll die.”
“I’m a reaper. I don’t do jokes.” I merely eyed him in disbelief, and he smiled. “Do you wish help to rise, or would you prefer to lie here until the Aedh arrives?”
“What I prefer is a shower. And that means getting up.”
“Would you like some help?”
“No, I can manage.”
He looked skeptical but didn’t actually say anything. I blew out a breath and slowly—carefully—pushed to my feet.
Azriel rose with me, one hand out, as if ready to grab me should I fall. I pushed the sweaty strands of hair out of my face and gave him a weak smile. “See? I told you I could manage.”
“I think the word for it is stubborn,” he commented. “Have your shower. I will order food for you.”
“Oh, will you now?” I said, not sure whether to be surprised or annoyed. “And who made you my mother?”
“No one, obviously, as that is not physically possible,” he said, face as inscrutable as ever. Yet I sensed he was both amused and frustrated, and suddenly wondered if the Chi link between us was becoming strong enough that it was giving me a clearer glimpse of him.
I removed Amaya, placing the sword on the bed, then turned and carefully headed for the bathroom. A long hot shower revived me a little more, although I had scant success in scrubbing all the fibrous remnants of clothing from my skin. I was going to be pulling bits out for days.
After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel and carefully dried myself. A sudden knock at the door made me jump, but a second later the delicious scent of roast lamb invaded the room and I couldn’t help grinning. Azriel had ordered my favorite—and no surprise, given he seemed to have an all-access pass to my memories and thoughts.
I left the towel on the bath’s edge and walked out. He turned, his gaze scanning me briefly. Something flickered in his eyes—an emotion or reaction that disappeared too fast to name—then he waved a hand at the food.
“This is sufficient?”
“More than sufficient.” God, there was even Coke. I drank half the bottle then grabbed a piece of lamb, munching on it as I walked across to my bag. After pulling out underwear, jeans, T-shirt, and a sweater—I skipped the bra because I really didn’t want any pressure on my newly healed ribs—I got dressed. Azriel’s gaze was a weight that heated my insides and stirred things that had no right to be stirring. Not when it came to him.
“So,” he said abruptly. “This first clue—”
“Any discussion will wait until Lucian gets here.” I glanced at the clock as I sat down to eat my meal. Forty minutes had passed. It was unusual for Lucian to be late for any date, let alone one that might give him a shot at the vengeance he was so hungry for. Concern stirred, but I thrust it aside. If anyone was capable of defending himself against attack, it was Lucian. Although why anyone would want to attack him, I had no idea. It wasn’t as if he’d been involved in our quest before now.
I finished my meal and was on my second cup of coffee—feeling more alive if not more energetic—by the time he arrived.
Azriel opened the door. For a moment, the two men stared, reminding me of combatants in a boxing ring, each one measuring up the other. Then Azriel stepped aside and Lucian’s gaze met mine.
It was the gaze of the Aedh, not the lover. He was here for business, nothing more. Even the kiss he dropped on my lips was perfunc
tory, containing little in the way of warmth or desire.
He pulled out a chair and sat beside me. “What are we searching for?”
“The first key is veiled as an ax, but all I managed to get from the book before we were attacked was: It was sent to the west of Melbourne where the wild—” I shrugged. “Wild what I have no idea. Nor do I know if it’s literal or cryptic.”
“The Aedh don’t do cryptic,” Azriel commented. He’d stationed himself on the other side of the table, his arms crossed and face impassive. Yet dark blue flames flickered across Valdis’s sides, and I wondered if that was a sign of his annoyance or merely a reaction to Lucian’s presence.
His gaze flicked to me. Both.
Seriously, you need to stop reading my thoughts.
I cannot. Live with it. His mental voice was short and sharp, and I wanted to laugh.
You know, if I didn’t know better I’d think that was an edge of emotion creeping into your tone.
As I said, there are drawbacks to holding this shape for long periods of time.
The ability to become emotional being one of them? Interesting. And of course, the perverse part of me suddenly wondered if, with emotion, came desire.
And naturally, that was one internal question he didn’t answer.
“So,” Lucian said, “the mention of wild could mean anything from half the name of a sports team to a museum filled with stuffed animals.”
“Or a zoo.” I paused and frowned. “Although I can’t imagine that the Raziq would be daft enough to hide an ax in a sporting club.”
“And I couldn’t imagine a zoo having much need for an ax,” he retorted.
I leaned back in the chair at his tone, and he grimaced. “Sorry. Vengeance is so close I can taste it, and it’s making me a little edgy.”
Understandable, I guess, but that didn’t excuse it. “It’s not certain that finding or touching the keys will bring the Raziq to us. None of us has any idea just what magic went into the making of these keys or their disguising, and neither my father nor the Raziq was actually expecting to lose them.”
“Your father may have disguised and stolen the keys, but the rest of Raziq would not have allowed him to be the sole provider of blood when it came to the actual making of them. That would be handing one man too much power, and even the Raziq would be wary of that.”
“You seem to know an awful lot about the motivations of the Raziq,” Azriel commented.
Lucian’s gaze flicked to him, and it showed the contempt that Azriel was managing to hide. “I am a very old Aedh, and I have firsthand experience at just what the Raziq are capable of.”
I frowned. “Just how firsthand are we talking? I thought it was the priests who stripped you of your wings and power, not the Raziq.”
“It was,” he said, so evenly and flatly that I didn’t doubt it was the truth. And yet something within me stirred uneasily. “But the Raziq were a growing power within the priests when I was full Aedh, and it was thanks to their influence that I was punished the way I was.”
Hence his need to get back at them. I rose and walked across to the coffeemaker to make myself another cup. “So, the clue. If not a sports club or the zoo, then where?”
“A museum, perhaps?” Azriel said. “There would be lots of axes in such a place.”
I took a sip of the steaming liquid, then wrinkled my nose. Not enough sugar. I tore open a couple of packets and added them. “Yeah, but a museum would hardly be described as wild, and there are only a couple outside of the metro area. Sovereign Hill is more northwest, and Rippon Lea more southwest.”
“I do not think the instructions should be taken as gospel,” Azriel said. “Your father may have sent them in that direction, but there is no telling where his Razan ended up.”
“True, but I think we’d be better searching for the obvious first. You never know, we might get lucky.”
“It is never wise to rely solely on luck,” Azriel commented. “You tend to get disappointed.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
“So, the obvious,” Lucian said, a little impatiently. “What’s out west that holds wild whatevers?”
I grimaced, thinking. “There’s the Werribee Open Range Zoo, but as I said, I can’t imagine an ax going unnoticed there.”
Plus, zoos were always undergoing renovation. It wouldn’t exactly be the most secure place to keep a prize such as the key safe.
He leaned back in the chair. “So there is nothing else out there?”
“Well, there’s the Werribee mansion.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How old a mansion? And how would it tie in with wild?”
“The zoo is part of the mansion complex, and the building itself is very old. I think it was built only a hundred years or so after Australia was settled.”
He gave me an old-fashioned sort of look. “An ax would not stand out in a place that old.”
Given I wasn’t really into visiting old houses, I really couldn’t say with any certainty what was usual and what was not. “The mansion is open to the public seven days a week, which means we’ll have to go in at night.”
Lucian frowned. “If it is open to the public, then that gives us the perfect cover.”
“Yeah, but if I touch the key and the Raziq do attack, then people—innocent people—are going to get hurt.”
“Many more innocents will get hurt if the wrong people get their hands on these keys.”
“Yeah, they will,” I said, annoyance edging my tone. “But that doesn’t mean we have to endanger anyone unnecessarily.”
He grunted. It was a somewhat impatient sound. But then, he was Aedh, and though his many centuries here on earth had humanized his ways to some extent, they hadn’t changed his core being. And that being didn’t really care who or what was damaged in the course of getting what he wanted.
“Tonight then. They will have security, I gather?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Then I shall take care of the electronic stuff.” His gaze flicked rather disdainfully to Azriel. “The reaper can handle whatever human security they have.”
Azriel didn’t comment, which surprised me, given his previous statements that he couldn’t physically intervene without just cause. Although I guess knocking out the guards did aid his quest to find the keys, and that might be cause enough. He’d certainly had no qualms about knocking out the half-shifter who’d attacked me at the rail station.
“It gets dark around six tonight,” Lucian continued, glancing at his watch. “Shall we meet outside the mansion around eight?”
“Outside the main gate, yes.” I frowned at him. “You seem to be in a bit of a hurry today.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, sorry, but I have a ton of work on my plate—tax time and all.”
An honest enough—and believable—answer, so why did unease wash through me again? Or was the strengthening connection with Azriel giving rise to my flashes of doubt?
“Are you sure you can dismantle the electronic surveillance and any other measures they might have in place?” I asked as he rose.
“Yes.” He leaned forward and dropped another kiss on my lips. This time, however, it held a little more warmth. “Maybe once this is all over and we both have more time, we can spend a week or two together in bed.”
I snorted softly. “I have a café to run, remember?”
“And I have a well-paid but demanding job. But once the tax-time madness is over, I’ll willingly cast it aside to lose myself in the delights of your flesh for a lengthy period.” His sudden grin was decidedly cheeky. “And do not try to tell me you would not do the same. I feel the anticipation in your thoughts.”
“You know,” I said drily, “it’d be nice if both of you would just let me keep my thoughts to myself.”
“Sorry, that’s not going to happen,” Lucian commented, echoing Azriel’s earlier remark. “I shall see you tonight, my sweet.”
And with that, he walked out. I watched until the door slammed shut behind hi
m, then shook wistful, somewhat hungry thoughts from my mind and glanced at Azriel.
“What are you going to do?”
“That very much depends on what you plan to do.”
An odd tightness still swam through him, and I frowned. “Azriel, Lucian is on our side.”
“For the moment, it would appear so.”
“Then why not give the distrust and anger up, because it’s fucking annoying.”
Something flickered through his eyes. Surprise perhaps. “I was not aware that it was affecting you so. I shall try to be more circumspect.”
Which meant even more contained. I wasn’t entirely sure I was happy about that, because as much as his doubts about Lucian irritated me, I couldn’t deny the fact that I rather enjoyed getting these odd snatches of thought and emotion from him.
“You can’t have it both ways,” he commented softly. “The link between us will continue to strengthen the longer I am near. If I manage to contain the seepage of what I might be feeling in regard to the Aedh, then I will contain it all.”
“So just how strong will this link get?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Liar, I thought, and again saw that flicker in his eyes. But all he said was, “You have six hours until we meet the Aedh. What do you intend to do?”
I let out a huge yawn that basically answered his question, and said, “What do you think?”
A small smile touched his lips. “Then I shall guard.”
“What, you’ve got nothing better to do than watch me sleep?”
“Apparently not.” The mirth died. “Rest, Risa. You need it.”
My name sounded like chocolate on his lips—sweet and rich. I gave myself a mental slap and spun around, heading for the bed. I stripped and climbed in, not looking at him but at the same time very aware of his presence. I closed my eyes and felt exhaustion sweep over me. Even so, that awareness had curiosity—along with a whole lot of other things I didn’t want to dwell on—stirring.
“Don’t you ever sleep, Azriel?”
“I have no need to. We are not governed by the restrictions of flesh as you are.”
“But you’re wearing flesh, and you did say that the longer you remain in this form, the more dangerous it becomes.”
