Darkness Hunts

Chapter 12

Shock held me immobile for too many seconds. By the time my brain did start working, my lungs were burning and my head was pounding—a result of not only lack of air but Amaya’s scream of fury.

But there was also fear. Not because of the sheer and utter fury in his eyes, but because, for one instant, it felt like his fingers were going through my flesh. That he would, at any minute, rip my throat apart from the inside out.

“Do you know what you’ve just done?” He shook me with each word, as if to emphasize the point. “You just let what might be our one chance to win this race walk out the door!”

I made a gargling sound and kicked him. The blow was weak, ill aimed, and went unnoticed. Amaya, I thought, and flayed my hands back, trying to reach her. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the strength.

It didn’t matter. She burned through my flesh, answering my unspoken need.

Hurry, I thought, as spots began to dance in front of my eyes. Only they were spots that burned like fire. Furious, red-tinted blue fire.

Valdis, I realized dimly.

“I have been looking for an excuse to kill you for some time now, Aedh,” Azriel said softly. “If you do not immediately release her, I will have one.”

For a moment Lucian didn’t respond. Then the fury melted from his eyes and he blinked. A second later, I was a heap on the floor, coughing and spluttering and sucking in great gulps of air.

But I wasn’t on that floor alone for long—Amaya had finished her journey through my flesh and had appeared in my right hand, her shadowed steel spitting dark purple fire as she hissed her displeasure and need to kill. I gripped her, then surged to my feet and aimed her point at the middle of Lucian’s brow. My whole arm shook as I fought the urge to press farther, to let steel taste flesh and blood.

Amaya did not appreciate my restraint.

“And here I was thinking you’d do as I ask and not bring your sword into the company of a dark sorceress.” His voice was calm, and there was little fear in his expression. The bastard knew I wouldn’t kill him. That I couldn’t—not in such a cold-blooded manner, anyway.

“Then you don’t know me as well as you thought.” I pressed Amaya’s p ~>wejund theroint to the bridge of his nose. A thin stream of blood trickled from the wound. “I may be many things, Lucian, but I’m not stupid. That’s what meeting Lauren without some form of personal protection would have been.”

“I would have protected you.”

I resisted the urge to let Amaya bite just a little bit deeper. “I think your actions just now show where your true allegiance lies, and it’s certainly not with me. Or even, I’d hazard a guess, with Lauren.”

“You’ve known for some time just how deep the well is when it comes to revenge.” He reached out, but I snapped my head back and his caress hit my arm rather than my cheek. He let his hand drop again, but there was a brief flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I am sorry for the anger. I didn’t mean to harm or frighten you.”

He’d done both. But, more important, he’d shattered the trust I’d had in him.

His reaction had been deep and unthinking. He hadn’t seen me as a lover, or even as a person. I was just some thing that had sidetracked a means of gaining what he wanted.

And he’d hated me for that.

Hated me enough to want to kill me. He might not have meant to, but that would have been the end result if Azriel hadn’t turned up.

Of course, I had no doubt he would have regretted the momentary lapse of sanity, given that both he and everyone else needed me alive to find the damn keys. But regret after the fact wouldn’t have done me a whole lot of good.

“You and I are finished, Lucian.” I stepped back and sheathed Amaya. Her grumbles filled the back of my thoughts, and though the noise had dropped from banshee territory, it was still sharp enough to bring on yet another headache. “I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

“Risa, don’t be stupid. I apologized and I meant—”

“It’s not what you meant,” I interrupted testily. “It’s what you did that matters. Damn it, Lucian, I saw the hate.”

“What you saw was not aimed at you.” Perhaps he saw my disbelief, because he added, a little more sarcastically, “There is only one person I actually hate in this room, and he can lower his sword. I really do not intend you harm.”

“I could lower it, true,” Azriel said. “But Valdis rather likes the taste of your flesh.”

“We both know she will bite no further, as her master has no desire to flaunt reaper rules and thereby jeopardize becoming again what he once was.”

“I would not be so sure of that, Aedh.”

“So we’re all just going to stand here like this?” he asked, the sarcasm stronger this time. “That could get a little tedious, don’t you think?”

“What I think,” I said, taking another step away from him, though my retreat wasn’t just physical, “is that Azriel was right. You will lie, cheat, steal, and fuck to get what you want. Nothing and no one else matters—it’s all about you and your endgame. And whndgical, ile I might have been able to forgive the lying, I can’t forgive the attack. I don’t want that sort of violence in my life. Not now, not ever.”

“Risa—”

He reached for me again, but I slapped his hand away.

“No. I mean it, Lucian,” I said, anger and perhaps a touch of regret in my voice. Whatever else he was, he’d been a good lover, and I mourned the loss of that if nothing else. “You and I are finished.”

“As lovers, perhaps, but you will need another sword when it comes to finding the keys. Our last attempt proved that.”

“I would rather fight alone than fight with someone who plays this game for reasons he has not yet fully disclosed,” Azriel commented.

“I don’t believe I asked for your opinion, reaper,” Lucian snapped, then flexed his fingers and added, “I intend to remain part of this quest, Risa.”

“Well, I’m afraid that’s an option no longer open to you.”

My voice was resolute, but deep inside, doubt stirred. There was a saying about keeping your friends close, but your enemies closer. If Lucian was playing a deeper, darker game than mere revenge, it might be far better to keep him around and keep an eye on him.

That is a very dangerous game to play with one such as him, Azriel commented.

Perhaps, but I just get the feeling that there’s more going on here than what we think.

Have I not been saying that? It was wryly said, even if there was a hint of rebuke embedded within the words.

You’ve said a lot of things, reaper, most of them nasty in regard to Lucian.

He deserves nothing less.

“I will not be kept apart from this quest, Risa.” Lucian’s voice was resolute. Dark. Almost as dark as the gleam in his eyes. “Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, I will be there when you search for the keys.”

“If you get in our way, if you attempt to harm or spell or do anything else to me or my friends, I’ll kill you myself,” I said flatly.

And there went any idea of keeping a close eye on him.

“Warning heeded,” he said. The madness and hate flared again, so strong I could taste it. And while he appeared to have it under control, it nevertheless scared the hell out of me. I’d been sleeping with that darkness. It could have overtaken him—and me—at any time. “And now, heed this. Vengeance is mine, and the keys play a major part in that. I will not be deterred.”

“Then we both know where we stand.” I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. “It was fun while it lasted, Lucian.”

With that, I turned and walked out.

And I didn’t stop walking until I was out of his building and well down the street.

That’s when the shakinhend I dig began.

I leaned back against the nearby shopfront and sank down, wrapping my arms around my knees as I sucked in great gulps of air. I felt like crying like a baby again, and all I wanted to do was scream, why, why, WHY? to the heavens.

Just this once, it would have been nice to catch a break, to have my suspicions proved wrong. Why the hell couldn’t fate play nice for a change? Just one break—surely to god that wasn’t too much to damn well ask?

“It would seem that it is,” Azriel said softly. He sank down in front of me and placed his hands on my thighs. His touch was like fire, and it chased away the shivers and lent me strength. “I am sorry that it has come to this.”

“No, you’re not,” I shot back, taking offense where none was intended. “You wanted Lucian out of my life, and now he is.”

“That is undeniably true,” he agreed. “But I do not wish to see you in such pain. Believe that, if nothing else.”

I did believe it. Just as I believed that the pain I was feeling now—a pain that came from betrayal rather than any emotional depth—was only just the beginning.

I rubbed my eyes wearily. “This has all become so totally fucked, Azriel. All I’ve ever wanted is an ordinary life, and that seems so far beyond me now I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.”

“There was never anything ordinary about you or your life, Risa, however much you might have convinced yourself otherwise.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. The restaurant was ordinary, falling in love with Jak and then getting my heart broken was ordinary, wanting kids and a family sometime in the future is very, very ordinary. That’s what I want back, and yet all of those things may now never be.” My gaze pinned his. Deep in those turbulent blue depths I saw the acknowledgment of my words. “And you know it.”

He wrapped his hands around mine and squeezed lightly. Longing shivered through me, but sadly, he was just another desire that was never meant to be.

“Nothing is ever written in stone, Risa. Fate is a fluid thing that changes with every decision and action. The future I see and the one you fear might never be.”

“And just what fate do you see?” I asked softly.

He hesitated. “Death. Many deaths.”

I closed my eyes again. There were some things better left unknown, that was for sure. And yet I couldn’t help asking, “Who?”

“That is uncertain and depends on our actions going forward.”

“Me? You?”

He half shrugged. “There are always casualties in a war, and you and I are front-line soldiers. The possibility is always there.”

I knew that. I’d always known that. But somehow, having him say it made it seem that much more inevitable.

“I don’t want to die, Azriel.”

“That is not aThp wn outcome that would please me, either.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “Really? I mean, it would at least free you from my bothersome tendency to do what I want rather than listen to your good advice.”

Amusement briefly crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Is there not a saying about challenges being the spice of life?”

“Actually, it’s variety that’s the spice of life.”

“And you are nothing if not variable,” he agreed solemnly.

I laughed, then leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Thank you.”

His hands clenched briefly against mine. I had no doubt he was fighting the urge to reach for me and deepen the kiss, because I was fighting the very same battle. “For what?” he said, voice controlled and very, very even.

“For making me laugh when all I want to do is cry.”

A shadow fell over us both and my stomach twisted in sudden fear. I glanced up hurriedly, but it wasn’t an angry Lucian, as I’d half expected. The man was thin, rat-faced, and not a stranger. He was the shifter my father had used previously to courier packages and notes to me. We’d cornered him in the basement of an abandoned apartment building, but he hadn’t provided a great deal of information, thanks to the fact that my father had erased his memory. As had Azriel, once we’d finished questioning him.

“James Larson,” I said, my gaze dropping to the simple envelope he held in his hand. It was the same sort of paper that my father had used in his previous notes, and my stomach began to twist even harder. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

He stopped and frowned. “How the hell do you know me?”

“You’ve delivered stuff to me before.”

“Huh,” he said. “Can’t remember it.”

Good. It meant Azriel had been successful and my father would not be aware that we’d found his courier.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Surely to god my father wasn’t tracking me that closely.

“Didn’t,” Larson said. “Not exactly. I was told to keep an eye on the building being renovated up the road, because you’d be there sooner or later. Missed you going in, but saw you exit.”

So my father knew about Lucian. Through reading my thoughts? Or had he been aware of Lucian way before I’d even entered the scene? It was an intriguing possibility, and one that raised all sorts of questions, especially when Lucian’s fierce need for revenge was factored in. Maybe it was a bit of a leap, but it was altogether possible that Lucian wasn’t after only the Raziq and the keys. Maybe he’d been using me to get to my father as well.

“How long have you been waiting for me to appear?”

“A few hours.” He shoved the letter at me. “This is yours.”

I took it rather warily, then glanced at Azriel. He rose in one swift movement and touched Larson lightly on the foreheaon widtd. The shifter stilled and his face went slack. Azriel closed his eyes and I watched the passersby, checking that no one was getting too interested in just what Azriel was doing.

Then he opened his eyes again. “Your father had his Razan deliver the note and, this time, he did not accompany him.”

“You’ve picked the Razan’s image from Larson’s brain?”

“Yes. And the good news is, Larson picked the Razan’s pocket.” He reached inside the rat-shifter’s jacket, slid a wallet from the pocket, and handed it to me.

I flipped it open and pulled out his driver’s license. The Razan pictured was average-looking with blond hair, blue eyes, and a scar running down the left side of his face. Even in the picture, he didn’t look like the sort of man you’d want to double-cross. “According to this, the Razan’s name is Pierre Danton, and he lives in Southbank.”

Which meant he had some money, because that area was expensive, thanks to its close proximity to the city.

“I do not believe the identity will be real,” Azriel commented. “And he has no doubt realized by now that this rat has been through his pockets. He may not be there if we check it.”

“I doubt a rat picking his pocket will overly worry him, other than the inconvenience of having to replace all his cards.” I waved the license lightly. “How come the Raziq’s Razan live in sewers, and my father’s live in plush apartments? And who the hell does the Razan working for the dark sorcerer belong to, given that they all bear the same sort of ownership tat?”

“I cannot explain why one group lives in luxury and the other not, especially as your father is not known for his generosity when it comes to Razan. As to the other question—” He hesitated. “There are many possibilities.”

I raised a querying eyebrow when he didn’t go on. “Such as?”

“It is always possible that either the Raziq or your father works with the sorcerer.”

I frowned. “Both were pretty damn pissed that he got the key rather than them.”

Azriel nodded. His fingers were still resting on the rat-shifter’s forehead, keeping him still and compliant. “But working with the sorcerer does not mean they ever intended him to get his hands on the keys.”

Then the sorcerer had outsmarted them all, and that made him doubly dangerous. “You didn’t mention the third possibility.”

This time he raised an eyebrow. “I was not aware there was one.”

“Lucian.”

“I had not forgotten. I merely discounted him on the basis that the Raziq tore away his power. Thus mutilated, he would not be capable of creating Razan.”

Meaning he hadn’t lied to me about everything. I guess that was something to be thankful for. “So you’re certain he hasn’t got full Aedh powers?”

“I’m certain, yes.” He hesitated. “But that does not preclude the possibility that remnants survive. It is far easier to far>

So maybe I hadn’t been imagining his fingers going through my flesh, after all. I shivered, and wondered what the hell else we didn’t know. A lot, I was beginning to suspect.

I shoved the license back into the wallet, then handed it to Azriel.

“You do not wish Stane to check his identity?” Azriel asked, surprised.

“Yes, but I can remember the name. It’s better if our rat-faced friend doesn’t suspect we went through his pockets.” I slid a fingernail under the seal and opened the envelope. The note inside was brief and to the point—Go to the station. It didn’t say when, so I presumed it meant immediately. I sighed. “You’d better release him.”

He did so, and the rat-shifter blinked. “What about a tip?”

Don’t pick the pockets of scar-faced men who work for would-be dictators. I reached into my pocket, dragged out a two-dollar coin, and flipped it to him.

He sneered. “Oh come on, a chick as classy as you has to have more than that on her. I went without coffee to deliver that note.”

“Take it or leave it,” I said, a touch irritably. I mean, a fucking courier telling me off for being stingy? He was lucky to even get a damn tip considering this wasn’t America and tipping certainly wasn’t the norm. “You were paid well enough to deliver the note, and we both know it.”

“Bitch,” he muttered.

And got a clip over the ear from Azriel for his trouble. “That is not polite language to use in the company of a lady.”

It was a comment that earned another sneer, but Larson wisely refrained from saying anything else and walked away.

“Since when have I been a lady?” I asked, amused.

Azriel held out a hand. “I didn’t say you were a lady; I just said it wasn’t the correct language to use when in the company of one.”

“Ah, that’s all right, then.” I gripped his hand and let him pull me up.

He didn’t release me immediately, and there was concern in his expression as his gaze searched mine. “Are you up to facing your father right now?”

“No, but it’s not like I have any other choice. Besides, the sooner we find the remaining keys, the sooner the madness destroying my life might just go away.”

“Do you wish me to take you there?”

Yes, I thought, I would. If only to soak in the heat of his touch for a few precious moments. But it would also sharpen the gathering tide of frustration and, right now, I really didn’t need that. “I thought we’d agreed that wasn’t a good option.”

“We had, but the note implies haste is required, and traveling the fields is faster than walking. It also taxes your strength less than you taking Aedh form.”

All of which was true. Ich ster tha hesitated, torn between desire and sanity, then shook my head. “Walking will clear my head. But you could go get the locker key for me. It’s on the dresser—”

“I am aware of its location.”

He winked out of existence. I went into a nearby café, grabbed a can of Coke and a couple of sausage rolls, then started walking. I didn’t actually feel like eating, but I had a suspicion that I was going to need the fuel over the next couple of hours.

And it was premonitions like that I could really do without.

Azriel reappeared as I was halfway through my second sausage roll, and handed me the key. “‘Tidy’ is not in your vocabulary when it comes to your jewelry, is it?”

“No, but I thought you said you knew where it was.”

“I knew the location. I did not know it was hidden under a multitude of twisted chains and charms. Do you not have a better method of filing them?”

“I do, but it involves walking into the closet. It’s easier to simply dump them on the dresser as I’m taking off my clothes.”

“That is not logical.”

“A rather common problem with me, I’m afraid.” I finished the sausage roll and dumped the paper in the nearest bin as we walked past it.

“True.” He was close enough that his shoulders occasionally brushed mine and, as I’d feared, every brief touch had longing coursing through me. But as much as I wanted to step away, I didn’t. I needed the comfort of those too brief moments, if only because the heat of contact went some way toward combating the chill of gathering fear.

It took nearly ten minutes to walk down to Southern Cross Station, which was a riot of noise and bodies thanks to the fact that peak time was approaching. We made our way through the crowd, but my footsteps slowed as I neared the locker room.

“Your father is not waiting within,” Azriel said.

Something I already knew because I couldn’t feel the power of his presence, but that didn’t erase the churning in my gut. “What about Razan?”

“There are a number of humans, but no one else.”

I took a deep breath that did little to bolster my flagging courage, then forced my feet forward. No one looked at us, let alone attacked us. I’m not sure why I’d expected otherwise—Azriel had already said there was no one dangerous here. Paranoia, it seemed, might be becoming a staple in my life.

I stopped in front of the locker and stared at it. Which wasn’t exactly getting us anywhere, but I just couldn’t force my hand up to shove the key into the lock.

Azriel gently took it and did it for me.

What we discovered was another square ward roughly the size of a tennis ball.

This one was white rather than black, but its surface was just as slick and ran with the colors of the rainbow.

“I cannot feel any dark energy coming enblack, off this one,” Azriel commented.

“Did you feel it coming off the other one?”

“Yes.”

I glanced at him. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

“Because you wished to explore the option.”

Against my advice. He might not have said the words, but they swam through my mind nevertheless. The link between us was definitely getting stronger.

“So what sort of energy has this one actually got?”

“It is Aedh, and therefore neither light nor dark.”

My gaze returned to the stone. It sat there, all shiny and harmless-looking. Yet I suspected there was nothing harmless about the magic that went into the creation of this thing, whatever Azriel might think. “Does the Raziq magic also sit between the two?”

It certainly hadn’t felt like it, but after what they’d done to me every time they’d used it, it was probably fair to say I was a somewhat biased judge.

“Their magic is darker, but it is not powered from the dark path; rather it springs from darker desires.” I felt his gaze on me. “Trust me, even if you do not trust your father. You will not be harmed if you pick it up.”

I took a deep breath, then reached inside and gingerly picked up the stone. It was a little too warm against my palm, suggesting that it was more than mere stone. But I knew that already.

“There is a piece of paper with it.” Azriel reached in and took it out. “It says, The ward will be activated by a drop of the blood we share. Use it in a secure place.”

“If this thing is activated by blood magic, how can that not be a bad thing?” Misgivings filled me as I stared at the stone in my hand. I didn’t like it and I didn’t trust the magic within it. It came from the hands of my father, after all, and he was one of the bastards responsible for the evil that was the keys.

“The ward is not created from blood magic,” Azriel said. “Using a drop of blood to activate it would merely be a precaution to ensure that if it fell into the wrong hands, they could do nothing with it.”

I guess that made sense—except for the fact I had a body filled with blood and absolutely no doubt that the Raziq would use every last drop if they felt it would be in their best interests.

“Then my next question has to be, where in the hell are we supposed to find a secure place?”

“Your home is as secure as you are likely to get.”

“I’m staying at Stane’s for the very reason that it isn’t.”

“Against one who can astral travel,” he agreed. “But Ilianna’s wards ensure the Raziq cannot enter without difficulty.”

“Maybe, but my father is also Aedh, so how will that help?”

“I suspect he will have accounted for that in the creation othefatf this ward.” He shrugged. “The only other truly secure place is the old ritual site on Mount Macedon. I doubt the magic within that place will allow you to enter with this ward, because its magic is Aedh based and that site is blocked to all things Aedh or reaper related.”

I studied the stone for several more seconds, then shoved it into my purse. The heat of it burned into my hip, despite the leather and fabric that now separated us.

“I’ll meet you at home, then.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t offer to wrap his arms around me and transport me there. He simply disappeared. He was sticking to his word, and keeping his distance as much as possible.

And while I appreciated the effort, part of me still wanted to rant and scream and tell him where he could stick his restraint, because I certainly didn’t want it.

I have no more wish for restraint than you, came his thought. But the fate of both our worlds hangs on our actions.

I know, I know. But knowing it, and getting through it, were two very different things. I shoved my phone into the waist of my jeans to ensure that it touched flesh, then reached down for the Aedh half of my soul. Despite my utter weariness, it answered with such a surge that it surprised me. Once I was nothing more than particles drifting in the gentle breeze, I gathered myself together and flowed through the streets, enjoying the freedom of my alternate form even though tiredness quickly began to pulse through me. I still wasn’t fit enough to hold this form for very long, so I practically cheered when my street came into sight.

But as I neared our warehouse, my particles began to tingle. And the closer I got, the worse it got. It was almost as if there was a force trying to stop me . . .

Ilianna’s wards, I realized suddenly. In this form, I was as susceptible to them as any other Aedh. But it was good to have confirmation that they were actually working.

I couldn’t get near the front door, so I scooted through the small gap between the garage door and the pavement, then re-formed and splattered rather inelegantly onto the floor. One of these days, I thought, as the headache kicked in and my stomach threatened to revolt, I was going to practice re-formation until I could land with at least some semblance of elegance. Of course, being fit, healthy, and strong would also be a good first step.

It took at least five minutes for the headache and shaking to subside to acceptable levels, and I was finally able to move. Azriel appeared beside me, one hand half outstretched, obviously ready to catch me should I fall back down.

“I’m okay,” I said. And wondered whom I was trying to convince—me or him.

“Of course you are.” His fingers caught my elbow as I walked up the steps to the heavy metal door.

I gave him a somewhat amused sideways glance. “You sound disbelieving, reaper.”

“Maybe that’s because both you and I know the truth.”

“But what good is admitting the truth? It’s not like it’s going to help any.”

“Being stubborn or refusing help when you need it is not overly helpful, either.”

“It’s not like I never accept help, Azriel.”

“It is interesting that you make no comment about being stubborn.”

I smiled. “That’s because I fully acknowledge it’s another of my failings.”

I looked into the scanner, waited until the retina reader did its business, then typed the code into the keypad. The door slid open and we stepped inside. I dumped my bag on the couch, then moved into the kitchen to raid the liquor cabinet.

After a large glass of bourbon and Coke—heavy on the bourbon—I grabbed a knife, then sat down in the middle of the living room floor and placed the ward in front of me. The rainbow colors seemed to run faster through it, as if it knew what was coming. Which was daft, because it was an inanimate object.

At least until I dropped some blood on it, anyway.

Azriel sat opposite me and placed Valdis across his knees. Blue fire dripped from her blade to the floor, then ran around us, creating a living barrier.

I raised an eyebrow in silent query.

“It is not a protective circle,” he said, “but there will be few able to get past the burn of Valdis. Your astral traveler certainly won’t.”

Something within me relaxed just a little. “So why haven’t you used her like this on other occasions?”

“Because it taxes us both, and it is generally better for you that we remain fighting ready.” He nodded toward the ward. “Activate it.”

I picked up the knife and jabbed the point into my finger. As blood began to well, I turned my finger upside down and let the blood drip onto the ward. As the droplet hit, the rainbow stopped moving, and everything was still. Silent.

Then light erupted from the center of the stone and briefly blinded me. When I was able to see again, I was encased in a cylinder of white. I couldn’t see Azriel, and Valdis’s fierce blue flames were little more than shadow. Which meant I hadn’t actually been transported anywhere, even though I’d half expected to be.

“Now what?” I said it out loud, though I wasn’t sure Azriel could hear me.

“He cannot,” my father said.

I jumped and looked around wildly. Normally I could sense my father’s presence the second he entered my vicinity, so why the hell hadn’t I this time?

“Because I am not in your vicinity,” he answered. “This is little more than a communication sphere. It allows you and me to talk without interfering with the energy of the device within your heart.”

I snorted softly. So my father was once again ahead of the game when it came to the Raziq. “Where the hell are you, then?”

“It is unwise for you to know.” He paused. “I see you have been in Malin’s presence. She plays a dangerous game.”

“No more dangerous than you, apparently.”

“Ah, so she has outlined my intentions. Or what she knows of them.”

“She did. And I have to ask, why lie? Why say you wanted the keys destroyed when the opposite is true?”

“I thought a gentler approach might be wise.”

I snorted. Yeah, that whole throwing-me-around-the-bathroom episode could definitely be described as gentle. “So can the keys be destroyed? Or was that also a lie?”

“It is not a lie, but it is also not possible. Not unless you wish to destroy existence.”

Of course, I thought wearily. Why on earth I’d actually expected the destruction of the keys to be a simple thing with few repercussions, I have no idea.

“Why would destroying the keys destroy the gray fields and earth?”

“Because blood was used in their creation, and it now links the keys to the structure of the portals. Destroy the keys, and you will more than likely shatter the power of the portals.”

“How is this different from the sorcerer forcing the gates open or the Raziq wanting them closed?”

“In either event, the link shared between portals and keys is not altered or disrupted. But destroy them, and the portals—which are woven into the very fabric of existence—are endangered.”

Well, fuck. What was I supposed to do now? Let a dictator win? Or worse still, the Raziq or the dark sorcerer?

“Am I not the better option for humanity? At least the portals would still remain viable.”

Until he decided it was better for him that they weren’t. Whatever else my father might be, I very much doubted that he’d be a benevolent dictator.

But that was not an argument I was going to get into. “Malin did something to me, but I can’t tell you what. She erased the memory.”

“She more than likely sharpened the frequency of the device so that its call would be more instantaneous. That’s what I would have done in her place.”

“Maybe.” Maybe not. I wasn’t trusting an Aedh to do the expected, my father included.

“Nor should you.” He paused. “I see that you have had a parting of the way with the Aedh. That is unfortunate.”

It was, but why the hell would my father think that? Had I been right in my earlier suspicions? And did I really want to know just how much Lucian had played me for a fool?

No, I thought. But I asked all the same. “What Aedh are we talking about now?”

“You are not stupid, Risa. Please do not act like it.”

“Lucian.” God, I thought, had every single moment with him been filled with nothing more than lies and schemes?

“As you have partially gue pq or the dessed, he and I are adversaries.” There was cool amusement in his voice, and I wasn’t sure why. “But what you do not know is that once we were allies. In fact, he was my chrání—what you would call either a student or protégé.”

Shock coursed through me. “You and Lucian? Allies? Then why in the hell does he hate you so much?”

“Because I never intended to share domination. Once the keys were safely in the possession of my Razan, I betrayed him to make my own escape.”

He was the reason Lucian had been stripped of his powers. Fuck, the hate I’d seen had been aimed at me as much as the Raziq—not only because I was Hieu’s offspring, but because I’d also betrayed him by not using his sorceress’s ward.

“Then how did you get caught? Or was that another lie to get me to do your bidding?”

“The chrání knew more than I thought, hence I was captured. I was stripped of my flesh form during Malin’s attempts to gain the location of the keys, but I could not give what I did not have.”

“Why did they keep you alive? After all, I was born by that time. They didn’t need you to get to me.”

“Yes, but I was the only one who knew the clues. Malin, for all her power, could not take that information from me.”

And then he’d somehow escaped his prison. But thanks to his capture, he’d missed his meeting with his Razan—who had, as he’d ordered, killed themselves to protect the earthly location of the keys. “Why was Lucian left alive?”

“As I said, he was my chrání. I have no doubt that Malin thought I might attempt to contact him again.”

“Well, that’s a stupid thought given how much he appears to hate Raziq.”

“She would not understand such emotion. Few of us do.”

Because they didn’t do emotions. And yet Lucian did. Was it simply a result of being made less than he was, or were there deeper reasons?

My father was obviously following my thoughts, because he said, “For an Aedh, being less than you were is a far worse fate than being dead.”

Which explained the fierceness that drove my father. He wanted domination—particularly over those who had made him less than he was.

“Even as I am, I am far more than Malin and her rabble will ever be.” There was no conceit in my father’s voice, no hint of boasting in his words. He merely stated a fact as he saw it. From the little I’d seen of the two parties, he did seem the stronger. And he was certainly more cunning.

“Why didn’t you warn me that Lucian was an adversary? He’s linked sexually to my thoughts, and no doubt tracking your intentions through me.”

“As I was tracking his movements and thoughts—and therefore the movements of the dark sorceress he plays with—through you.”

I frowned. “Why would you be tracking her movements? She’s not t Shs he plahe one who took the keys.”

“You are sure of this? Because I am not.”

“Her energy wasn’t the same.” It was almost stubbornly said. I knew what I’d felt, and Lauren’s energy wasn’t what I’d sensed when the key went missing.

So why did she seem familiar to me? I didn’t know, and that niggled.

“I still would not erase the possibility that she is involved, especially considering the chrání’s liaison with her. Everything he does, he does with intent.”

“Like master, like student,” I muttered.

“Indeed,” my father agreed. “I taught him well.”

Too fucking well. And the worst thing was, he was yet another person who was going to create trouble for me in the weeks ahead.

I rubbed my forehead wearily. “Look, you called me here for a reason. What is it?”

“What else would it be? You need to find the next key.”

“You still want me to find it after the shitty mess I made of the last attempt?” It was a stupid question, but I couldn’t help asking it all the same. I mean, miracles did occasionally occur, and there was always the faint hope that my father would decide I was useless and try to find someone else.

And by tomorrow, pigs will have flown.

“You are my only child, and therefore my only option.”

Meaning if he’d had another option he probably would have taken it. And as much as I’d always longed for a sibling, I was suddenly glad that I was an only child. It was bad enough risking the lives of my friends; I couldn’t imagine doing it to a brother or sister.

“Okay, so hit me with the clues.”

“As I said in the book you destroyed, the second key bears the semblance of a dagger. It was sent to the northwest, where the alluvial fields run deep and the soil is stained by rebellion.”

He stopped, and I waited. He didn’t go on. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?”

“That’s all I dared give my Razan. I could not be more specific in case I was captured—which I was.”

I thrust a hand through my hair. “It doesn’t give me a lot to go on.”

“That was the whole point. But you found the first one; you will find the others.”

I was glad someone had confidence in me. Although I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted my father’s confidence.

“What am I supposed to do when I get it?” Especially now that I knew I couldn’t destroy the keys—if my father was telling the truth, that is. He had told me previously that they could be destroyed, and Azriel seemed of the same opinion as well.

“Use this stone to contact me. I will give you further directions.”

“What about Azriel?” He wanted the keys destroyed—or at least in Mijai hands, and I had no doubt he’d take it the minute we found it. Especially given what had happened with the first key.

“Do not let the reaper gain possession of the keys. Whatever it takes, whatever you have to do, do it. Otherwise, your friends will not live to see another dawn.”

Fury, fear, and frustration swirled through me, and I clenched my fists. Uselessly, because there was nothing and no one here to hit. “Damn it, how the hell am I supposed to stop a reaper? I’m only human—”

“You were never human. You are a creation of my flesh, and that well runs deeper than you realize.” He paused, and the energy in the cylinder became so electric the hairs on my arms stood on end. “Do what I say, Risa, or face the consequences.”

And with that, the white light died and I found myself blinking furiously against tears as I stared at Azriel.

“What happened?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I brushed away the solitary droplet that trickled down my cheek. “You weren’t following events through the chi connection?”

“No, the ward severed the connection.”

I guess that was no surprise—my father was more than aware of Azriel’s presence in my life. “He gave me the clues to find the second key, and then gave me a fucking horrible choice.”

Azriel studied me for a moment, his expression giving little away, then placed Valdis on the floor and rose in one smooth movement. He disappeared into the kitchen, but was back within minutes, a large glass of bourbon and Coke in one hand. “Drink this, then tell me.”

I half smiled. “With the amount of booze I can smell in this glass, I’d normally think you were trying to get me drunk.”

“You’re a werewolf—is that not impossible?”

“Oh, I can get drunk. It just takes a hell of a lot of time and booze, and it usually doesn’t last long enough to make the effort worthwhile.” I took several large gulps and felt the burn of the bourbon all the way down to my belly.

“What happened?” Azriel said softly.

I briefly closed my eyes. “How sure are you that the keys can be destroyed?”

“As sure as we can be. The keys are not part of all creation, as the portals are, so therefore we should be able to destroy them without overwhelming effects to our worlds.”

“My father says otherwise.”

“It would be in your father’s best interest to have you believe so.” But a frown marred his usually calm expression.

“He says the keys were created in blood, and that blood now links them to the fabric of the gates. If we destroy the keys, we risk destroying the gates.”

“I do not think that is possible.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

p> ">“No, but there are those who will.” He hesitated, his gaze capturing mine. “That is not all, is it?”<