Darkness Hunts

Chapter 11

Of all the answers I’d expected, that certainly wasn’t one of them. I reached for him, but he stepped away from me.

“You do not understand,” he said, his mismatched blue eyes glowing with a fierceness that was part determination, part desperation. “I have a task to achieve, one that is vitally important to both our worlds. I cannot let emotion get in the way or cloud my judgment.”

“But this isn’t about emotion—”

“It is, and we both know it.”

His words should have made me want to dance. Instead, they scared the hell out of me. Because he was right. Whatever this thing between us actually was, it was certainly more than just sexual attraction. It had the potential to be something far deeper, far stronger. It was something that could change both our lives, in ways I couldn’t even begin to see or imagine.

But he obviously could, and that’s what scared me.

I licked suddenly dry lips and said, “If you’ve feared this all along, then why did you give in to desire in the first place?”

“If I was without flaws, I would not be a dark angel.”

“But it’s only made things worse.”

Because now we both knew just how good we were together. And we were both aware that what we’d shared was only a beginning, that there was a whole lot more left unexplored between us.

“I understand that now, b ve="d"re ut I cannot undo what has been done.” He paused, then added softly, “Nor would I want to. When all this is over and we resume our separate lives, I will at least have something to cherish, even if it is only a memory.”

Tears prickled my eyes. Goddamn it, I did want an end to the madness. I did want life to resume normalcy. But at the same time, I couldn’t even begin to imagine my life without Azriel’s presence in it.

Which only testified to just how much I’d come to care for my stubborn reaper.

“We both hunger for things that should not be,” he said, his voice gentle. “But for the sake of our worlds, it cannot be.”

It was very tempting to just say fuck our worlds, what about us? I’d always been one to fight for what I wanted, but this was a very different situation. What I wanted—what he wanted—really didn’t matter in the bigger scheme of things. It never had.

God, I wanted to scream about the unfairness of it all. But that wouldn’t help anyone. I guess I just had to pull on my big-girl britches and deal with the situation as best I could.

“That is all the fates can expect of either of us,” he agreed softly.

“The fates need to be fucking shot,” I muttered, then thrust a hand through my hair. “I guess I’m going to bed alone, then.”

“I guess you are.” His words were as flat as his expression, but behind the facade, frustration burned, and it was every bit as deep as mine.

I forced myself to turn around and climb into bed. Drew the covers up and told myself to sleep.

Which I did.

Eventually.

And not before a very long battle against the urge to get up and claim what we both desired.

The phone woke me hours later. I groped for it blindly, then realized I’d actually left it in my bag, which was still sitting on a nearby chair. But before I could muster the energy to move, it appeared in my right hand.

I opened a bleary eye, and came face-to-face with Azriel. “It is Rhoan,” he said, rather unnecessarily. The ringtone informed me of that much.

“Let’s hope he has some good news for a change,” I muttered, then hit the ANSWER button. Rhoan’s face appeared onscreen, and the high-pitched wail of a siren just about blew my eardrum out. I hastily turned down the sound and said, “Please tell me you’re on your way to catch the bastard.”

“We hope so.” If the dark circles under Rhoan’s eyes were any indication, he’d been getting even less sleep than me. “And not only do we have a possible location, we have a name.”

“How the hell did you discover that?”

“Do you remember suggesting we investigate the warehouse?”

“Yes.”

{ wing we i“Well, inside we discovered a marijuana crop that had to have a street value of at least four million. Naturally, there was all sorts of security to protect this investment, including cameras.” He smiled. “Actually, your presence must have spooked them, because they were in the process of dismantling and bagging when we arrived. We caught all of them.”

Well, at least some good had come out of Dani’s death. “I’m gathering the cameras also picked up the coming and going of our killer?”

“Yes. And he wasn’t alone.”

“If he’s blind, it makes sense he’d have an assistant.” I paused. “He did have a face, didn’t he?”

“And a butt-ugly one it is, too. Actually, that could apply to him as a whole.”

Which made you wonder how he was hooking his victims. But then, sometimes it wasn’t about looks. Sometimes it was about aura and power. And from what I’d seen on the astral plane, our killer had those in spades.

“So who is he?”

“He’s going by the name of Zane Taylor, but we can only trace his existence back about five years, which is when he landed in Australia. We’re currently checking the Croatian and Slovenian databases to see if we can find a match.”

“What about his buddy?”

“He’s a man by the name of Jason Bright. He’s an IT specialist with a history of hacking into high-profile companies and then selling their information on the black market. He’s served a smattering of time, but he’s been flying under the radar since he was released five years ago.”

If he was an IT specialist, why wouldn’t he have done something about the cameras to stop them from recording their presence? It wouldn’t have been that hard for someone who knew what they were doing—Stane could have managed it with his eyes shut.

“Meaning the two of them somehow hooked up when Zane arrived in Australia?”

“More than likely.” He glanced sideways, said something to whoever was in the car with him, then added, “We’re on our way to Bright’s last known address now.”

“What about Zane?”

“The address listed in the system was for an apartment that was torn down years ago. But his bank records show activity in the same vicinity as Bright’s house, so we’re hoping they share a residence and we can nab them both.”

It wouldn’t be that easy. No way, nohow. Our faceless killer might now have both a name and a face, but he seemed way too smart to leave such an obvious trail.

“You’ll call me after you raid the place?”

“Yes. But I’m sending through pics of both men, just in case this is little more than a diversion and they’re actually coming after you.”

A shiver ran through me. He was coming after me. I knew that for a fact, but at least knowing what he looked like would give me a small advantage.

Not that it would matter if he came in astral form.

“Be careful, won’t you? I’d hate to see—”

“Risa, I’ve been doing this for more years than you’ve been alive.” Amusement and warmth filled his voice. “Even if Taylor and Bright were aware of the cameras and have done a runner, they won’t have had time to clear away all the evidence. We’ll find them.”

I wasn’t worried about Rhoan and the Directorate finding them. I was worried about our killers finding him. After all, he was the one who’d pointed out how little respect Taylor seemed to have for the Directorate—and maybe that was because he was always one step ahead of them.

I had a horrible suspicion he was still one step ahead of all of us.

“I know,” I said. “Just . . . good luck.”

“Stop worrying about me, dear Risa, and just make sure you keep alert until we catch this bastard.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be in touch when we have him.”

He hung up, but the phone beeped immediately as two messages came in. I opened them to discover the faces of both my hunter and his assistant.

As Rhoan had noted, Zane was one hell of an ugly man. His face was round and puffy, the left side so scarred that it almost looked like it had melted. His hair was sparse and the same nondescript brown as his eyes, and his nose large.

Jason Bright, his companion in crime, had thin features, thick-framed black glasses, and dirty blond hair. He was the sort of man you wouldn’t look twice at on the street. The sort of man who looked totally and absolutely harmless.

And yet it was no doubt thanks to him that Zane had discovered my home address. If he could hack into the systems of high-profile companies, it would have been easy enough to gain access to the security company that monitored Vonda’s and Dani’s homes.

And maybe he was the reason the Directorate hadn’t been having much luck tracking Zane. If he was so damn good, then it wouldn’t have been too hard to get into the Directorate system and see what they were up to. After all, Stane could do exactly that—though he hadn’t recently because the Directorate had increased security and he preferred to stay out of jail.

I took one more look at the killer who was hunting me, then dumped the phone on the nearby pillow and closed my eyes. Weariness still rode me, but it was nowhere near as deep as it had been. I half wondered if Azriel had given me a little energy boost while I’d slept.

“No,” he said softly. “It would not have been wise.”

To touch you. The unspoken part of that sentence swam through my thoughts. Frustration rose like a wave and threatened to swamp me yet again.

Get it under control, I reminded myself fiercely. Accept the reality and just move on.

But saying that, and actually doing it, were two entirely different things.

“What time is it?” I asked eventually. I could have opened my eyes and looked at the nearby clock—hell, I could have picked up my phone and looked—but right now either required too much effort.

“Four o’clock.”

“A.m. or p.m.?”

“P.m.”

That did wake me. “So I’ve slept for over twelve hours?”

“You needed it. You were running far too close to the edge of exhaustion, Risa.”

“Hard to do anything else considering what keeps getting thrown at me,” I muttered. I flipped the covers away from my face and sat up.

Azriel’s gaze swept me briefly, then moved away. But not before I’d caught the flash of desire in his eyes.

“Tao has gone to the restaurant to deal with the council inspectors.” His voice was back to its formal self. “Stane has coffee percolating, Coke in the fridge, and bacon and eggs on standby.”

“I need all three. But I need a shower first.”

I forced myself out of bed, raided Stane’s closet for an old T-shirt to wear between here and the bathroom, then grabbed my toiletries and clothes and headed out.

Stane swiveled around in his chair and gave me an appreciative once-over. “That T-shirt looks a lot better on you than it does on me.”

I smiled. “How did the game go last night?”

“We thoroughly thrashed the opposition, and moved up several levels in the process. What would you like to eat?”

“Azriel mentioned bacon and eggs.”

“Done,” he said, and practically bounced toward his kitchen.

I quickly showered and dressed. Though Azriel wasn’t present in body, he was still nearby, still keeping watch. The heat of him washed across my skin like a summer breeze, warm and sultry.

I once again forced myself to thrust away the growing slithers of desire, and followed the delicious aroma of fried bacon back out into the kitchen portion of his open living area.

Stane slid both a Coke and a mug of steaming coffee over to me, then flipped the eggs. “I did that search for Henry Mack, Jason Marks, and Mark Jackson.”

It took me a moment to remember that Mack, Marks, and Jackson were the aliases of the Razan we’d knocked out in the cavern where the hellhounds had attacked us.

I propped on the nearby stool. “And?”

“As you might have already guessed, neither the Mack nor Marks identity actually exists. The Jackson one does, although if it is the same man, he’s over a hundred years old.” He served up the bacon and eggs, then picked up his coffee and leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter.

“If he’s listed as a Middle East war veteran,” I said, alternating between speaking, eating, {ingfaceand drinking, “then it’s the same man.”

“Interesting, given that the photos of his recent incarnations suggest he’s not more than forty.”

“He’s had a little magical help.”

Stane snorted. “Then they should package that and make a fortune.”

“Trust me, it’s the sort of magical help you wouldn’t want. It amounts to slavery.”

“Oh, well, that they can keep.” He grimaced and drank some more coffee. “The address listed for both the Mack and Marks identities is Railway Crescent, Broadmeadows, but I couldn’t find them listed as tenants in the apartments there.”

“Probably because he actually lives in Dawson Street, Brunswick West.” If what Uncle Quinn had pulled from his mind was to be believed, anyway. “Any chance of you checking to see if there’s a traffic camera nearby, and monitoring it?”

“I can check. Can’t promise results.”

“Thanks.”

He grinned. “You know, a crate or two of Bollinger wouldn’t go astray. I’m almost out of the last lot.”

I choked down a laugh. “Done deal. And cheap at half the price.”

“Then I shall double the price next time.”

He could triple the price and it would still be cheap. The information he kept getting for us was invaluable.

I scooped up the last of the egg yolk with a piece of bacon, then pushed the plate away with a contented sigh. “That was delish. Thanks.”

“You’re lucky. I normally only stock frozen meals, but Mom insisted on having real stuff while she was here.”

I grinned. “Mothers are funny like that.”

“Tell me about it.” His voice was gloomy, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “She’s even insisting I meet the daughter of one of her friends before she leaves.”

“The daughter might be hot, you know.”

He snorted. “It’s not the hotness that matters, it’s the nerd factor. Most women these days have absolutely no appreciation of either the fine art of hacking or black marketeering. And they always want to dust.”

“Heaven forbid,” I said, voice dry.

“I know! What is with that?”

I snorted, but didn’t reply as my phone rang. The tone told me it was Lucian, so I excused myself and walked into Stane’s bedroom to answer it.

“Well, hello,” he said, his voice low and intimate. Just the sound of it had desire stirring, and though I suspected it wasn’t entirely “real,” it didn’t seem to matter. Nor did Ilianna’s leafy charm appear to mute that reaction.

But maybe it only worked for face-to-face confrontations. I had to hope so, because if I was going to continue my relationship {relno with Lucian, I wanted it to be because I chose to, not because I was under some sort of compulsion spell.

“Hello, yourself,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible. “What can I do for you?”

Surprise flitted briefly through the bright depths of his eyes. Obviously, he’d been expecting a stronger response.

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of one or two things, but the point of the call is what I can do for you.”

The emphasis he placed on I and you had all sorts of wicked images floating through my mind. I cleared my throat and said, “And what might that be?”

“Besides the obvious, you mean?”

I half smiled. “Yeah, besides that.”

“Lauren believes she might have an answer to our dilemma.”

My heart began to race a little faster. Now that the moment was here, I wasn’t sure that I should go through with it.

“What sort of answer?”

“She didn’t say. She just said she needs to run a test to ensure it works, and for that she requires your presence.”

I hesitated. “Lucian, I don’t think—”

“It can’t hurt to check out what she has to offer,” he interrupted, in a voice that wasn’t about to brook any argument. “After all, it may not even work.”

I had to hope so, because I really didn’t want to be in debt to a dark sorcerer.

So why even bother going? Azriel’s thought was knife sharp.

Because I need to know. About whatever magic our dark sorceress had come up with, and about the charm that now encircled my wrist.

And if the charm doesn’t work?

Then I guess you have the choice of watching, joining in, or keeping your distance. My reply was somewhat tight. I might understand his reasons for keeping his distance, I might even agree that it was for the best when it came to the task still ahead of us, but that didn’t give him the right to get pissy whenever I happened to be talking to—or was with—Lucian. Even if he had placed a compulsion spell on me.

I half expected Azriel to disappear in another huff, but he merely crossed his arms and gave me his impassive, not-thinking, not-feeling face.

“Earth to Risa,” Lucian said. “You there?”

I blinked. “Yeah.”

“But obviously didn’t hear a word I just said,” he said, amusement teasing the corners of his eyes. “That reaper giving you grief again?”

“No.”

He sighed. “You’re not a very good liar, my girl. I said, Lauren will be here at five, if you’re free.”

“Where’s ‘here’?" fa {her La

“My apartment, not the club.” He paused, then gave me a wide grin. My stupid hormones did a happy little two-step. “Although we could visit the club afterward, if you’d like. It’s fancy-dress night.”

“A fancy-dress night sounds a little too tame for your tastes.”

“If you think that, then we obviously need to go. And it will be my extreme pleasure to teach you otherwise.”

“One step at a time,” I said, trying not to smile. “Let’s meet with Lauren, and see how that goes first.”

“So you can get here by five?”

I glanced at the clock. It was close to five now, but it wouldn’t take me that long to get there by taxi. I could travel by Aedh form, but even though I felt a whole lot stronger after eating and sleeping, I wasn’t about to waste energy uselessly. Lucian and his dark sorceress would just have to wait if I was late.

“Depends on the traffic,” I said. “But probably.”

“Good. See you soon.”

I hung up, then tossed the phone in my purse and walked to the bed to retrieve Amaya from under the pillow. Happy, not, she said, as I slung her over my back. Should not leave alone.

It wasn’t my choice to get snatched without you, I replied, then wondered why in the hell I was justifying myself to my own damn sword. Maybe I was going crazy—which would not be surprising given the mess my life was in at the moment.

I made the bed, then slung my purse over my shoulder and headed for the door.

“Risa, don’t go,” Azriel said softly.

Fuck it, Azriel, don’t do this. I stopped. “Why not?”

“Because I do not want you to go.”

I flexed my fingers, and found myself reeling between the desire to do what he asked and the knowledge that what he was asking was wrong. “You were the one who said this quest was more important than anything else. If talking to this dark sorcereress gets us closer to the keys, then we have to do it.”

“I am not talking about the keys. I am talking about you and Lucian.”

“Lucian has his place in this search, whether you like it or not.”

“It is not so much his place in this search that I object to.”

“Damn it, you can’t say things like that. Not after everything you said last night.” And while a deeper part of me rejoiced at the admission, it mostly only added to the deepening well of frustration.

“There have been a lot of things I should not have said or done, Risa.”

Yeah, and showing me just how truly amazing we could be together, then snatching away the possibility of it ever happening again was certainly one of them.

“You said last night that I wasn’t understanding the se {andne of triousness of the situation. Well, this time you’re the one not understanding.” I turned. There was very little in the way of emotion to be seen in his face. “I might be part Aedh, but I am also werewolf. Sex may not be the necessity for me that it is for others of my kind, but by the same token, I do not want to live my life without it.”

“I am not asking—”

“Yes, you are.” I said it fiercely, my fists clenched. “You’re asking me to stay out of Lucian’s bed, and right now he’s the only sexual partner I have. And don’t suggest I seek out others, because I can’t afford to bring anyone else into my life with all the shit that is happening. At least Lucian is fully able to protect himself.”

“But he is not to be trust—”

“Maybe not,” I cut in. “But then, who the hell am I supposed to trust in this whole debacle? Every single person involved in this quest is using me for their own reasons—you, Lucian, Hunter, my father. Hell, even Jak’s doing it to get a story, but at least with him it’s a mutual thing.”

“What about Tao, Ilianna, and Stane? They are not—”

“They’re my friends, and only part of this quest because I’ve dragged them into it. They’re not using me; they’re trying to keep me alive.”

“I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“But only because you need me to find the keys. If it came to a choice between saving me and gaining the keys, we both know I’d be a goner.”

He didn’t say anything. And whatever he was feeling, whatever he was thinking, he was keeping it all locked down very tightly.

I sighed. “We can’t keep doing this, Azriel. We can’t keep arguing over this same point. Either you and I take the risk of deepening our relationship, or you accept the fact that I will take other lovers, be that Lucian or not.”

He made a sharp “whatever” motion with his hand. “You are right. I will not mention it again.”

“Good.” I spun on my heel and headed for the door.

But as I reached for the handle, he added, “I told you once that reapers are sexual beings, that we mingle energies and recharge ourselves with other energy beings.”

I paused, my fingers still on the door handle as I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes, so?”

His expression was as remote as ever. “So, we can only recharge with those who possess a harmonious frequency, and such compatibility is not widespread. When a connection is found, it is to be cherished.”

I frowned. “I’m not getting the link between this and what we were discussing.”

“The connection,” he said softly, “is the fact that I can recharge with you.”

I blinked. To say I was surprised was an understatement. Hell, I was flesh and blood, and he was energy. How was something like that even possible?

“I’m not a reaper. Im nreaper.ll never be a reaper.”

“No, you are not.”

My confusion deepened. “So what exactly are you trying to say?”

“Nothing. I merely explain what you see as unreasonable behavior.” He hesitated, and something flashed through his eyes, something that resembled pain. “I once had a recharge companion, but she was killed while escorting a soul through the dark portals.”

“I’m sorry—”

“There is no need for your sorrow. She died long ago, and was not my Caomh. While I regret her passing, it was not a life-altering event.”

Caomh was the reaper equivalent of a life mate if I’d understood the little Azriel had said about them. “So, is the fact that you can recharge through me a sign that the assimilation threat is greater than you were admitting?”

“No. I am, as I said, merely explaining why I react to Lucian’s presence in your affections.”

Because he wanted to protect something that was rare and precious in his world. And yet, at the same time, he was desperate to avoid it because he feared that it might cloud his judgment when it came to his task here. No wonder he seemed all over the place when it came to the two of us.

“What happens to reapers who do not find someone who is compatible energy wise?”

He shrugged. “Their life span is shortened. Even energy beings eventually need some means of sustaining themselves.”

“So recharging is as much about food as sex?”

“Yes.”

“Then how did you survive so long without your recharge partner?”

“I survive because recharging for a reaper is not the everyday necessity that it is for flesh-and-blood beings. We can go eons before the lack affects us.”

Thank god I wasn’t a reaper, then, because I actually enjoyed the daily necessity of food and sex.

“Look, I’m sorry you’ve been put in this position, Azriel, but I can’t stop living my life because you and I share what is rare in your world—especially when it’s something you fear will endanger us both.”

“I understand this now and, as I said, I will not mention it again.” He hesitated briefly, and again emotion flashed through his eyes. This time, though, I couldn’t really define what it was. “I just wanted to explain why I react as I do.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “But you haven’t actually explained why you can recharge with me, when I’m not a full energy being.”

“No.”

I waited for him to continue, but when it became obvious he wouldn’t, I turned and walked out of the room.

It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, given that all I really wanted to do was to wrap myself in Azriel’s arms and let the rest of the world go to hell.

Which was still a very real possibility if we didn’t get to the remaining keys first.

I was half an hour late by the time I got to Lucian’s. Even though we’d been going against most of the traffic to get into the city, it was still peak hour, and that generally meant madness no matter which side of the road you were on.

I climbed out of the taxi and stared up at the old Victorian building. There were still workmen on-site, despite the fact it was nearing five thirty. Maybe they were making use of daylight savings and trying to get ahead of schedule. My gaze swept the top floor, but I wasn’t sure what I was searching for. The windows were covered by heavy plastic, so even if Lucian had been standing at one of them, I wouldn’t have been able to see him.

I took a deep breath, then released it slowly, but it didn’t do much to ease the tension slithering through me. And standing here wasn’t doing a whole lot for it, either. I waited for a tram to pass, then crossed the road and made my way through the scaffolding into his building.

The old lift rattled upward and came to a bouncing halt at the top floor. The doors groaned open, but it took me several seconds before I could force myself out.

And I wasn’t entirely sure whether the reluctance stemmed from not wanting to meet with the dark sorceress or not wanting to have my suspicions about Lucian confirmed.

Damn it, I liked sex. I especially liked having sex with Lucian. I didn’t want a return to the nun-like state I’d been in before this madness had all begun.

Of course, confirmation that he’d placed a compulsion spell on me wasn’t exactly a deal breaker, but it would worry me. If he was being dishonest about that, then what the hell else was he being dishonest about?

I walked through the clouds of dust that filled the room, my footsteps echoing softly in the vast emptiness. There were no workmen on this floor, just the sound of their jackhammers and whatnot echoing up from the floors below. Lucian’s lemongrass and suede scent filled the sub-layers within the dusty air, but it was entwined with an energy that was uneasy and shadowed. His dark sorceress was here.

I snuck under a dustcover and entered the kitchen. Except for the addition of four folding chairs, the room hadn’t changed since the last time I’d been here. Lucian and Lauren stood near the chairs, but there was nothing relaxed about either of them. In fact, the heat in Lauren’s cheeks and her sharp gestures very much suggested I’d walked in on the middle of an argument. Hell, Lucian was all but hissing in her face.

And yet, something in the way they stood—in their very closeness—was oddly intimate.

Unfortunately, thanks to all the noise the builders were making, I caught only a couple of chopped-up sentences of his conversation with the sorceress—it means nothing, I will have my revenge regardless.

And while Lucian had made no secret of either aim, I had to wonder why he was now saying those words to a sorceress he claimed to barely know.

Because he is a liar. And have no doubt that he {doud to ba will not only lie, but cheat, steal, and kill to gain what he wants. Azriel could have been talking about the weather, for all the emotion he showed, yet we both knew that was as far from the truth as you could get. What we cannot be truly sure of yet is what, exactly, he wants.

He says revenge, and that’s the one thing I truly do believe he’s being honest about.

Perhaps.

And perhaps he was just incapable of seeing the forest for the trees where Lucian was concerned.

That is an incongruous statement.

But true.

Possibly.

As I drew closer, Lucian swung around and gave me a wide grin of greeting. Any sign of anger had completely disappeared. My gaze flicked briefly from his face to Lauren’s. She looked regal and composed—a woman certain of her place and power rather than one who’d seemed ready to tear eyeballs out just moments ago.

“You’re late,” Lucian said, the amusement in his eyes at odds with the rebuke in his words. “I was beginning to think you’d had second thoughts.”

“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“Of course.”

He dropped an overly polite kiss on my cheek, and again I had to wonder if the argument I’d witnessed had been about sex. The only time he’d ever been so frugal with his kisses was when she’d been witness to them.

And while I was aware that he had a stable of bed partners, I certainly hadn’t expected one of them to be a dark practitioner. Nor was I entirely sure how I felt about it.

But at least it did explain the heady scent of sex and blood I’d smelled when I’d entered the room at Maxwell’s—it had come from their activities rather than from those on the main dance floor.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

“A Coke would be good.”

He tsked. “And I had my best champagne on ice, too.”

“Save it for when we’ve got something to celebrate.”

“Later, then.”

“Perhaps.”

My reply was somewhat absent as movement caught my gaze. Lauren folded gracefully onto a chair and crossed her legs. The bright lights gave her dark hair a purple sheen but shadowed her face, softening her stern, somewhat matronly features. Once again I had that odd sense of familiarity, but I still couldn’t place who she reminded me of. Although she did remind me somewhat of a spider. A big black one, sitting in the middle of her nest and contemplating the world around her as she waited for her prey to fall into her web.

“Take a seat,” Lucian directed. “I’ll grab your drink.”

I claimed the chair nearest to Lucian’s, and Lauren gave me a thi {gavk.”

“It’s not so much you as your profession.”

She raised one thin eyebrow. “Which is not saying much given my profession is who and what I am.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to take that statement, so I didn’t say anything. Lucian returned and handed me a can of Coke, then sat down between us.

“So,” he said, picking up his glass of wine from the floor. “As I said on the phone, Lauren believes she has come up with a possible answer.”

My gaze flicked to hers. Those icy depths watched me closely, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Not because of the intensity of her gaze, but rather the hatred so very evident in it.

Why the hell would someone I’d barely even met hate me so much? Or was it not so much me, but the fact that she considered me a sexual rival?

If she thought that, then she didn’t understand Lucian. But maybe she hadn’t even known he was Aedh until he’d told her about the device in my heart. She might be knowledgeable about the dark arts and the denizens of hell, but that didn’t mean she had any expertise when it came to the beings who inhabited the gray fields.

“I’m not committing to anything until I know exactly what we’re talking about.”

“Of course.”

He said it soothingly, like a parent talking to a spooked child. Irritation swirled, but I forced myself to ignore it and kept my gaze on Lauren.

“It is not a spell, so you have nothing to fear along those lines,” she said easily. A little too easily for my liking. It sounded like a well-rehearsed line more than anything approaching sincerity.

I took a sip of Coke, but it failed to help the sudden dryness in my throat. Despite what I’d said to Azriel earlier, I really didn’t want to be here discussing magic with a dark practitioner. And yet, it was an avenue that had to be explored. We do what we have to do, Azriel had once told me. It was that statement that had driven me to enlist Jak’s help, and if it also meant enlisting the help of a sorceress, then so be it.

“Then what is it if not a spell?”

She glanced at Lucian. And that had all sorts of alarm bells ringing, if only because it suggested they’d discussed just what she should and shouldn’t say before I’d gotten here.

Had that been another part of what they’d been arguing about? I knew Lucian was desperate to gain revenge on the Raziq, who’d stolen not only his wings but also his ability to shift into Aedh form, but was he so desperate that he would advise a dark sorceress what to say—and not say—to convince me to use her magic?

I briefly studied his angelic face and saw a determination that bordered on ruthlessness. Yes, I thought, he was.

Lauren took a sip of her wine, then casually said, “It’s a ward.”

I waved the statement away. “You and I both know there’s a million different kinds of wards.” {ds.s

She smiled. It didn’t do a whole lot to ease the tension. Quite the opposite, in fact. “This one is designed to prevent magic escaping its boundaries once it has been activated.”

So, similar to the wards Ilianna had used when we’d attempted to read the clues in the book my father had sent me—a book that had been subsequently destroyed when the elementals had attacked. “How is it powered?”

“Not by blood magic, if that is what you fear.”

“Then how does it get its power? You felt the energy of the thing in my heart. You know it’s not a creation of this world.”

“Which is why I do not use the magic of this world.”

I stared at her, my stomach twisting into knots. “You exploit the power of hell to create your spells? That is a very dangerous practice—”

She snorted, the sound unladylike and at odds with the image she was projecting. “I think I understand better than you just what it is I’m dealing with.”

Somehow I doubted that. I might not have had much experience with hell and its denizens, but I did have a healthy respect for just how dangerous they could be—something Lauren appeared to have lost.

“Look, I really don’t think a ward powered by the energy of hell is something I should be handling.” Especially not when I had a sword at my back eager to kill all things related to hell.

“You cannot make that judgment without at least looking at it,” Lucian commented. “I have handled it without harm, and its magic seems no better or worse than what the Raziq use.”

I cast him a somewhat wry look. “You would say that, given how desperate you are for revenge.”

“I cannot deny I have a stake in this device working. If we get the remaining keys, we can force a confrontation with the Raziq.” He hesitated, and something flickered briefly in his eyes. Something that was altogether too dark for my liking. “That is something I have long desired.”

“If you confront the Raziq, you’ll be dead. There’s too many of them.”

“I am not suicidal, dear Risa.” He slid his hand under my skirt and gently squeezed my thigh. His fingers were warm and familiar, but there was no must-have-you-now-or-I’m-going-to-melt hormonal attack. Which didn’t mean it had no effect, just that my response was basically normal when being intimately touched by someone who was as sexy as all get-out. The charm, it seemed, was working. He added, “I plan to be around to devastate your bed long after the keys are history and the Raziq are little more than a bad memory.”

Anger stirred the air, a sharp burst that was quickly contained. I glanced at Lauren. Her expression was as calm and as regal as ever. The only sign that the flash had come from her was the whiteness of her knuckles as she gripped her wineglass. But the moment she caught the direction of my glance, her grip eased. I resisted the temptation to smile. Lauren was in for one hell of a shock if she thought Lucian would ever stay with just her.

Although it had to be said, if they were lo {>wejust her.vers, then Lucian was playing with fire. A sorceress wouldn’t be someone you’d want to make an enemy of.

“Which is presuming I’d actually want you in my bed by then.”

Amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Of course you will. I’m a magnificent lover, and we both know it.”

“What you are is conceited, Lucian Dupont.”

“It is not conceit when it’s the truth.” But he removed his hand and took a drink of wine. His gaze, I noted, went to Lauren, almost as if he were daring her to react.

She didn’t.

“However,” he said, after a moment, “we are not here to discuss my bedroom skills, but rather the ward. And I reiterate, it cannot harm you to simply look at it.”

That statement should not be taken at face value when dealing with someone involved in the dark arts, Azriel commented.

I know that, Azriel. I’m not a total ignoramus about magic, so please don’t treat me as such.

I merely comment. It was not a rebuke.

Well, it sure as hell had felt like one. I drank some Coke, then met Lauren’s gaze and said, “I thought you said it had to be fine-tuned?”

“It does. To work fully it has to be tuned to your energy.”

Energy, or aura? I very much suspected the latter, and that had my doubts rising even higher. “Where is it?”

“In my purse. Lucian?”

He rose and walked over to the bench. I put my Coke down and followed. I wanted some distance between me and Lauren when I studied her creation.

Her purse was black leather, and was about as far from feminine as you could get. In fact, it looked more like an over-the-shoulder briefcase than an actual handbag. Lucian gamely delved into it, and his hand came out holding what looked like an oversized die. Only there were no dots on its black surface, which held an odd sort of oiliness that gleamed in the sharp overhead lighting. He set it down on the counter in front of me.

I leaned closer, but didn’t immediately try to touch it. Despite the oddness of the surface, there was no sense of energy radiating off the black stone. It really could have been nothing more than a numberless die.

“It won’t bite,” Lauren said, amusement clear in her voice. She hadn’t moved, but I had an odd sense that she missed nothing, despite the fact that I had my back to her.

“Forgive me for not taking you at your word.” I shifted around to study the other side of the die. It didn’t look any different, and I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d bothered moving.

“Here, look.” Lucian picked up the die and deftly tossed it from hand to hand. “See? Nothing bad happens when you touch it.”

“Agreed, nothing bad happens when you touch it,” I muttered, my unease growing as I watched the toss of the stone. “But this thing is suppos {ingg bad hed to tune itself to me, and I’m not exactly believing everything will be fine and dandy when it does.”

“Oh, for the love of . . . Nothing is going happen.” Exasperation rode Lauren’s voice. “Lucian would not allow it, even if I had wished you harm.”

I glanced at her sharply. “Since when does a dark sorceress take orders from someone she barely knows?”

Lauren’s smile was thin and unamused. “Come now, Risa. You saw us arguing and you are no fool. Please do not take me for one.”

“So you are lovers?” My gaze went to Lucian. “Why didn’t you say that up front?”

“Because it wasn’t pertinent.”

I snorted softly. How could the fact that he was fucking a dark sorceress not be pertinent information? “And just how did you come to that conclusion?”

“Who I spend my time with is nobody’s business but my own.” The comment was decidedly barbed, and I couldn’t help glancing at Lauren. If his words annoyed her, she wasn’t showing it. This time. “The only reason Lauren is here now is because she is powerful.”

“Maybe, but it does make me wonder what else you’re not telling me, Lucian.”

“It’s no secret that my life revolves around the need for revenge—”

“Yeah,” I interrupted, “and it’s what you’ll do to get it that has me worried.”

“You have nothing to fear—”

“Meaning you’re not behind the compulsion spell that’s been placed on me?”

My voice was matter-of-fact, and his sudden grin was warm and unrepentant. “I feared my Aedh charms might not have been enough to hold you, so I stacked the odds in my favor. But the spell is harmless, Risa.”

“Maybe this one is, but the next one might not be.”

He held up his right hand. “I promise, I will place no more spells on you.”

And you can trust every word out of a liar’s mouth, Azriel commented.

Have you ever heard the saying “If you can’t say something nice, say nothing?”

I do not believe so. Nor can I help commenting when he makes such blatantly unbelievable statements.

It was pointless saying anything further when I was never going to convince him that Lucian was remotely trustworthy, so I didn’t bother. Especially since I wasn’t one hundred percent sure of it myself.

I crossed my arms and said, “And what about getting other people to place spells on me?”

“I promise I won’t do that, either.”

“Does that mean there’s no other spells on me?”

“I did not need more than one.”

Which wasn’t actually confirmation that there were no other spells, just that he hadn’t actually needed them. I eyed him for a moment, then sighed softly and waved a hand. “Fine. Give me a closer look at the ward.”

He pushed it toward me. I studied it dubiously for several minutes, then gathered together the threads of my courage and reached for it.

No touch! Amaya screamed, the sound so high-pitched it made my eyes water.

At the same time, the Dušan swiveled around in my flesh, its head near my knuckles as it snarled at the ward.

I snatched my fingers away.

“I can’t,” I said, and stepped away from the counter.

Anger exploded around me, the force of it so fierce it stole my breath. My gaze snapped to Lucian’s. There was no anger to be seen in his expression, not even the merest hint, but it had come from him nevertheless. “Why the hell not?” he said, his voice as flat as his eyes.

I might as well have been looking into the eyes of death. A shiver that was part fear, part foreboding, rolled through me. “What do you mean? Didn’t you see that?”

“See what? What the hell are you talking about?”

I frowned, my gaze searching his. “The Dušan. It reacted to the ward.”

He glanced at my wrist sharply. Now that I’d stepped away, the Dušan had resumed her normal position on my arm. Amaya, however, was still eager to bite into whatever darkness Lauren had employed to make the ward, and she was letting me know it. Banshees had nothing on the noise she was currently making inside my head.

“Impossible,” he said.

“Not in this case.” I crossed my arms. “I can’t use the ward, Lucian. I won’t.”

He contemplated me, his expression still remote, then turned and faced Lauren. “It would appear you have wasted your time and energy. I’m sorry.”

Lauren rose and moved toward us, her long dress flowing around her legs like the gray tendrils of a web. Definitely a dangerous, dark spider, I thought with another shiver.

But one who wasn’t entirely surprised or annoyed by my actions, if her expression was anything to go by. My gaze returned to Lucian. Maybe she wasn’t worried because she would still extract the price of the ward from him.

“A foolish choice, but one that she nevertheless has the right to make.” Her gaze came to mine. “You may yet regret this decision, however. There are worse things in this world—and the next—than this stone and the magic within it.”

“I’m more than aware of that, believe me.”

She wrapped her fingers around the ward, then raised it to eye level and contemplated the oily black surface. “It is a thing of beauty, is it not?”

I didn’t reply, but then, she didn’t seem to be expecting me to. She dropped the stone into her bag and then, with a glance at Lucian, turned and left.

I heaved a silent sigh of relief. One problem down, one silently seething Aedh to go. I hesitated, watching him, wondering if it was better to keep my distance, then shook the thought away. He might be angry, but he surely wouldn’t hurt me. After all, he needed me alive just as much as everyone else did. I walked around the counter. “Well, I can’t say I’m sorry to see the back—”

The rest of the sentence was cut off as Lucian’s hand shot out and his fingers closed around my neck in a vise-like grip.