Darkness Hunts

Chapter 3

As the awareness of my father’s presence grew, so did the ache in my heart, until all I felt was pain, inside and out.

I doubled over, unable to do anything more than gasp. But it wasn’t a heart attack. It was something far more deadly—the transmitter the Raziq had placed in my heart, reacting to my father’s presence.

Calling the Raziq, telling them he was coming.

And I could barely even breathe, let alone give him any sort of warning.

An instant later, I was flung up against the lockers, my feet off the ground and a band of iron against my neck.

“What have you done?” The voice was a deeper, angrier version of mine, and it seemed to shake the foundations of the room around us. “What have you agreed to?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out because no air was getting in. Panic surged, and for a moment I wondered if he intended to kill me in sheer and utter rage.

Blue-edged steel appeared in my line of vision, the sword’s sharp point aimed at the heart of the fierce energy holding me captive.

“Tell us where we can find the keys,” Azriel said flatly. “Or die now.”

Deep inside me anger flared. For fuck’s sake, Azriel, I’m choking and in serious pain here, in case you didn’t notice!

He either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. Neither, apparently, did my father. The iron band of energy continued to squeeze my neck, and it felt like my lungs were about to burst. Tiny spots began to dance in front of my eyes.

“If you kill me, reaper, you will fail in your quest to capture the keys.”

There was no hurry in my father’s voice, no urgency. h="rAs the shadows of unconsciousness began to crowd close, I wondered where the hell the Raziq were. At least their arrival would break this uncaring tableau.

“As will everyone else who seeks them,” Azriel replied. “That is an outcome I could live with.”

It was an outcome I could live with, too. If I got to live, that was.

“You and I both know such an outcome would be unacceptable to those who sent you here, reaper.” Amusement ran through my father’s deep tones. “It would appear we have reached an impasse.”

Azriel!

The mental shout was filled with desperation, and his gaze flickered briefly toward me. Frustration and anger burned in his eyes. “Release her. Or I will kill you.”

And hurry. The spots were getting larger, my heart felt like it was about to shatter, and the need for air was so fierce my lungs were on fire.

“You won’t kill me, reaper.” The trace of amusement was gone from his voice. “As I’ve already stated, you need the information I carry too much.”

“And we both need her alive. Release her—now!” Valdis’s flames skittered across the fierce energy that was my father’s presence, enveloping him in a fiery cage.

Whether it was the threat of the flames or simply the realization that he did need me alive, the steely band of energy bruising my neck suddenly disappeared and I collapsed to the ground. There I remained, on hands and knees, dragging in shuddering gasps of air and grateful that I could still do so.

“You bear the device of the Raziq in your body,” my father said. Though the force of his anger no longer held me captive, it vibrated through the undernotes of his voice. “Why?”

Because I had no fucking choice, I thought, but the words remained locked in my throat as I continued to suck air into my still burning lungs.

God, where the hell were the Raziq? My father might have released his death grip on me, but the Raziq’s transmitter had not. The pain of the device was all-encompassing, and spots still danced madly across my vision.

“It was not her choice,” Azriel answered. “And if you know a means of removing it without killing her, tell us.”

“There is no removal except death.” My father paused, and the energy of him pulsated. “The Raziq come. I will find another way to contact you.”

“Leave a damn note—” I croaked.

“No,” he said.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I need to read your mind and understand what the players around you do.”

And despite the net of fire enveloping his form, the force that was my father disappeared. I couldn’t say I was entirely sorry to see him go. I might not have gotten any answers, but at least the fire in my heart began to ebb away. It left me trembling and weak.

“I’m aice">“Ifraid it is not over yet.” Azriel tucked an arm under my arm and hauled me upright. “The Raziq come, as he said.”

The words had barely left his mouth when another storm swamped me. Panic surged, but I drew Amaya and tried to ignore it. Of course, past experience told me she wouldn’t be enough against the force of them, but at least this time I had Azriel by my side. Surely he wouldn’t fall victim to the mind tricks the Raziq had used last time I was with them.

Fire dripped from the points of the two swords. It hissed and spat as it hit the concrete, and spread out in a sweeping arc, forming an incandescent barrier around us. It was almost as if the swords had drawn a line and were daring the Raziq to cross it.

The storm grew stronger, until I was being physically buffeted by it. I narrowed my gaze against the dust and rubbish flying through the air, my breath caught somewhere in my throat and my stomach churning. Every time I’d faced the Raziq, something had gone wrong.

Every single damn time.

“Not this time,” Azriel said. He took a step forward, half protecting me with his body.

No protect! Amaya’s protest echoed through my brain. Want to kill.

There is time enough for that, I snapped, my gaze on the flicker that was growing beyond the circle of fire. Once upon a time I would not have seen it, but my sight seemed to have altered fractionally since Amaya had become one with me.

Want now, she grumbled, but her voice had at least lowered a couple of octaves.

Soon. I waved her lightly back and forth. Her fire spat through the air, reaching past the wall of fire, landing near the edge of the Raziq’s shimmery presence. But there was more than one here. There had to be. The wash of energy was too fierce.

And Azriel’s readiness to attack was so strong that the force of it vibrated through every part of me, vying for prominence with the energy crawling across my skin.

“I told you my father would sense your approach,” I croaked, before either the Raziq could say anything or Azriel could react. “He’s far more cunning than you give him credit for.”

Red flames flickered down Valdis’s sides. I wondered if it was an indicator of the sword’s annoyance or her master’s.

“It is also possible that you warned him.”

The voice was cool, without inflection or emotion, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was one of the Raziq who’d torn me apart to place the tracker in my heart.

“I didn’t warn him, trust me on that. I want as little to do with him as I do with you.”

“That, at least, is true.” The energy in the air sharpened. “Do not release your weapon, Mijai. There are too many of us here, and your numbers are few enough.”

“Our numbers are irrelevant.” Though his voice was as calm and cool as the Raziq’s, his stance had shifted imperceptibly. He was readying for action. “What matters is my ability tofiry abili counter your presence, and that is not in question.”

The fierceness in the air suddenly sharpened, and a thick sense of impending doom swamped me. If Azriel attacked, he’d die. I was as sure of that as I was of the moon rising tonight. There was no way known that I was about to let that happen.

I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around his arm. It felt like I was gripping stone.

The force of Valdis’s flames ramped up, but Azriel didn’t react. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. The force of it just about blew my brain circuits.

“Your presence here does nothing to encourage my father to come back,” I said, trying to keep calm against the twin storms buffeting me. “If you want him, you had better leave.”

“He now knows about the tracker. The point of it is useless.”

My mouth went suddenly dry. If the tracker was useless, did that mean I was as well? I swallowed heavily, and somehow said, “And here I was thinking the Aedh were clever enough to work out a way around that.”

He obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. “That is without question. But your father is also Aedh—he will find a means to mute the transmitter.”

No doubt. “Then you’ll just have to work faster than him, won’t you?”

“Or develop a different way of drawing him to you.” He paused. “We will be in contact, Risa Jones.”

The threat hung in the air as the energy of their presence began to dissipate. Azriel wrenched his arm from my grip, then drew Valdis back and released her in one violent movement. The sword sang through the air, the sound fierce, joyous. She hit the fading remnants of the shimmer and there was a short, sharp explosion, accompanied by a shrill scream. Then there was no energy, no Raziq.

Only fury.

Valdis looped around and returned to her master. Azriel caught her one-handed, then swung to face me. His expression was as angry as I’d ever seen it.

“Do not ever do that again.” Though his voice was flat, every inch of him seemed to vibrate. Valdis’s steel wasn’t even visible, so dark were her flames.

And Amaya responded, her hissing fierce enough inside my head to make my eyes water. She was ready to protect, whether it be against foe or friend.

“Azriel—”

“I am here to protect you, not the other way around.”

“You would have died.” I sheathed Amaya—although it didn’t shut her up—and rubbed my arms. Not that it did much against the force still assaulting me or the chill that the mere thought of losing him sent through me.

“There is always the Aedh,” he practically spat. “You trust him so much, after all.”

Anger surged. Anger and hurt. “Damn you, Azriel, that was totally uncalled-for!”

I shoued Std">Ildered past him, blinking back ridiculous tears as I stepped over the dying embers of our swords’ fire. Damn it, far worse had been said to me over the years, so why would I let a comment like that get past the armor?

Because, my inner voice whispered, you care more than you should. More than is wise.

And he didn’t. Because he was energy rather than flesh and didn’t do emotions the same way the rest of us did. I knew that. Just as I knew his mission would always come first, no matter what. But the knowledge didn’t help ease the pain of that situation or this one.

I made it five steps past the flames before he caught my hand and stopped me.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should not have said that.”

“No,” I answered, not turning around and still blinking furiously.

He hesitated. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

My smile held little humor. “If you didn’t intend to hurt, you shouldn’t have said the words.”

“I agree. Risa, please, look at me.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, somewhat shuddering breath, then obeyed.

“I am sorry.” He wiped a lone tear from my cheek with his thumb. “It will not happen again.”

My gaze scanned his, but I could see nothing more than regret there. Whatever else he might be feeling or thinking, he was controlling it tightly. I sighed and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer the same. If I think you’re going to die, Azriel, I’ll do what it takes to protect you. I can’t do anything else. I need you.”

And not just for protection.

He brushed a kiss across the top of my head. Warmth tingled through me, filling the spaces that had been so recently shivering under the force of his fury. “If dying is my fate, then so be it. I am here to do a job, Risa, and neither of us should forget that.”

“You can’t do that job if you’re dead.”

“As I have said, if death is my fate, then so be it. You are the important one in this equation. You and the keys.”

“And I’m only important because I’m the only way to those keys.” I snorted softly. “You know, if I did die, the world would be better off. No one would be able to find the keys or open hell’s portals.”

“If you think your father or the Raziq would stop searching simply because you were dead, you are sorely mistaken.” Azriel’s voice held a sharp edge. “Death cures nothing, Risa.”

Maybe. Maybe not. I pulled away from the comfort of his touch. “Let’s go back to the car. I need to go home.”

He released my hand and I walked out the door—only to run nose-first into an all-too-familiar chest.

“Speak of the devil and he ar" fil and rives,” Azriel muttered.

I shot him a warning glance, then stepped back. If ever there was a man who was perfectly formed in every imaginable way, Lucian was it. He was truly beautiful to look at, and yet there was nothing effeminate about his looks or his presence. He was tall, towering over me by a good six inches, and his build was that of a warrior—muscular and strong.

He had the facial features of an angel, and in the past—before his golden wings had been torn off—he probably would have been mistaken for one. Because even though reapers were the true soul guides, it was the Aedh who were the source of the angel seen in so many myths. And like many of those mythical angels, he had golden hair and eyes that were the most glorious shade of jade, but his were so full of power that it was almost impossible to meet them without flinching.

Normally, my heart rate would have leapt into overdrive at the mere sight of him, but given my recent brushes with both my father and the Raziq, I couldn’t muster anything more than annoyance—though it was edged with a bit of suspicion.

“What are you doing here, Lucian?”

His eyebrows rose. “We haven’t seen each other for almost a week, and this is the greeting I get?”

“It is when you suddenly appear where you’re not supposed to be.”

“Last time I looked, this was a public train station, not a private one.” His expression was amused, despite the slight edge in his voice.

“You know what I meant.”

“I do.” His gaze ran past me. “So nice to see you again, reaper. And I can see by the bruises around Risa’s lovely neck that you’ve been doing an outstanding job of protecting her again.”

Azriel didn’t reply, but then, he didn’t have to. Even Lucian couldn’t have missed the sudden jump in air temperature. I wondered briefly just how dark Valdis’s flames were, but didn’t turn around to check.

“Stop avoiding the question, Lucian. Why are you here?”

He snorted softly. “You were here to meet your father, were you not? I thought I might be of some use—especially since the Raziq were likely to turn up and cause problems.”

“But how the hell did you know we were even going to be here? It’s not like we’ve been anywhere near each other recently, so you couldn’t have read it in my thoughts.”

The Aedh generally could read human—or non-human—minds only when they were in close proximity to them. However, they formed a strong mental link with their partners during the act of sex, enabling them to hear their thoughts from a distance.

That bond was—according to Lucian—somewhat inoperative between the two of us. In fact, he’d claimed he could read my thoughts only when he was physically making love to me. Whether that was true or not I had no idea. I trusted him, but no matter what Azriel might think, it wasn’t blind trust. I knew he had secrets. Knew they were more than likely dangerous ones.

“If you do not wish anyone to know where you are,” he said, “then you had better inform your friends of this fy nds of tact.”

“Ilianna told you?” That surprised me. I would have expected a little more caution, even though she knew Lucian was involved in our quest for the keys.

“No. I was at your home waiting to see you, and the note from your father was lying in plain view on the table. If you didn’t want anyone to know where you were, you should have hidden the evidence.”

That was true enough, I guess. But I hadn’t thought it necessary to hide the note in the safety of our own home. Yet . . . something still niggled. And I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was disbelief or Azriel’s distrust flowing through the far reaches of my thoughts.

“Well, as it turns out, you’ve missed all the action.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

“My father was less than impressed by the discovery that I have a tracker in my heart. He left the minute he sensed the Raziq’s approach.”

I stepped around him, then headed out of the station. He fell in step beside me. Azriel was a seething mass of annoyance that followed.

“And the Raziq? I venture they were not pleased by such an outcome.” His gaze raked me, and deep inside, desire stirred. Goddamn it, what was it about this man that called to me, even when I was annoyed with him? “Are they the reason you have the bruises?”

“No, they’re thanks to my father.” I stopped at the traffic lights and punched the button with a little more force than necessary. Who, exactly, I was more annoyed at I couldn’t say for sure—my father, the two of them, or myself for not being strong enough to tell Lucian to fuck off and leave me alone.

In fact, right now, I wished both of them—and the rest of the damn circus that had entered my life around the same time—would just go away and leave me in peace.

“Your father?” Surprise edged his tone. “Violence might be one of his mainstays, but it’s rarely unleashed when he still requires that person’s assistance.”

I gave him a long look. “And just how do you know that about my father?”

He snorted. “He’s a Raziq, is he not? They are rebels and outcasts for the precise reason that they do not conform to Aedh standards—not only in ideology, but in their very natures.”

He lies, Azriel said. There is more to his knowledge than what he claims.

Just as there’s more to your dislike than what you claim? I grouched back.

And yet I couldn’t dismiss his doubts, simply because I agreed with them.

“What you said sounded more like firsthand, personal knowledge than like a general statement about the Raziq.”

“I said I’d ask around about your father, and I have. Aedh numbers may place us on the verge of extinction, but that does not mean there are none in this city. Hieu is old even in Aedh terms, and not unknown.”

“All that sounds a little too convenieleatoo connt.”

“Sometimes the truth is.” He caught my hand and pulled me to an abrupt stop. “You know why I’m on this hunt. I want the Raziq.”

“I know—”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted fiercely. “Because I don’t just want them dead. I want them burned from existence. I want them erased from the memory of the earth itself and their names never to be mentioned, even in the darkest whispers in the darkest of places.”

I stared at him, for the first time seeing the true extent of the anger and darkness in him. And I couldn’t help wondering just what he would do to get that revenge—and what he’d already done.

More than either of us currently suspects, Azriel commented.

Suspicion gains us nothing, I replied, despite the fact that my own thoughts were careening along the same line. And just because he wants the Raziq erased doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted. Hell, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind it one little bit if the Raziq no longer existed.

I returned my gaze to Lucian. “Last time we saw each other, you were intending to hunt down information about the tracker the Raziq placed in me. Is that why you were waiting at our place?”

The anger in him faded, but didn’t completely disappear. It remained in the edge in his voice, in the fierceness of his gaze.

It was a fierceness that had me trembling, because it wasn’t entirely anger. Lust burned in the deeper recesses of his eyes, and it was growing stronger by the moment.

I might be tired, I might have the mother of all headaches developing thanks to Amaya and the events of the day so far, but it seemed even that wasn’t enough to stop the growing hum of desire.

Although it wasn’t like I had many other options with which to satisfy my needs. With Azriel intent on remaining a monk, my only other possibilities were Jak—the man who not only betrayed the trust I’d placed in him by writing a newspaper article about my mother that basically called her a fraud who lied about her background, but who broke my heart in the process—or I could head down to Franklin’s, a private wolf club where I was a long-term member. And while I did have a regular partner there, his touch had lost some of its appeal since Lucian and Azriel had come into my life.

A smile teased Lucian’s lips. Despite his claim to the contrary, he was obviously catching at least some of my thoughts. I tugged my hand free from his and strode toward my car.

He was back beside me in a heartbeat. “In answer to your question, yes, I have been researching ways to mute the tracker, and yes, I was at your home to discuss one possibility.”

I opened the car door but didn’t climb in. “And what is the possibility?”

“A dark sorcerer, but not one who uses blood magic.”

“Any sorcerer who trades with darkness is not a wise choice,” Azriel said. Though his voice retained its usual even tone, his distaste and annoyance still shivered through me.

Which was odd. It was almost as if the chi connection had somehow deepened, allowing me greater access to the ebb and flow of his emotions. And from what I’d gathered, that shouldn’t have been the case.

Unless it was a sign that assimilation was a whole lot closer than we’d presumed.

No.

I glanced at him. If it’s not assimilation, then what is it?

He gave me the mental equivalent of a shrug and my annoyance surged. Some things, it seemed, would never change.

“We haven’t even had the chance to explore our options with the Brindle witches yet,” I said to Lucian.

And since they were some of the most powerful witches in the land, you’d have to think they should be able to come up with something.

“What you bear in your heart is unlike anything the Brindle witches have seen before,” Lucian commented. “It is Aedh in origin, and their magic far exceeds anything ever seen here on earth.”

“By that logic,” Azriel said, before I could even open my mouth, “a dark sorcerer will be of as little use as the Brindle witches.”

Lucian gave him a somewhat scathing glance. “Except that witches rely on natural magic, whereas a dark sorcerer uses the magic of this world and the other. In this case, that is probably as close as we’ll ever get to Aedh-strength magic.”

“Which does not mean we should discount other options without even exploring them.” Azriel’s voice held a dangerous edge. “Risa, you cannot—”

“We have to at least talk to this sorcerer,” I cut in firmly even as trepidation crawled across my skin. I’d heard too many of Ilianna’s stories to ever be comfortable in the presence of a dark sorcerer. “Even if we do nothing with the information he gives us.”

“At least someone in this little group has some common sense,” Lucian said. “I’ve arranged a meeting for this evening.”

“I’m working at the café until eleven.”

He shrugged. “Shall I pick you up, or would you prefer to meet us there?”

“The latter.” I didn’t want to be reliant on him to get back home, simply because that was one sure way to end up in his bed rather than alone in mine. Amusement teased his lips again. I added, somewhat crossly, “I thought you could only read my thoughts during sex?”

“That is mostly true.”

Azriel snorted softly. I ignored him and said, “Define ‘mostly.’”

Lucian shrugged again. “Thoughts of a sexual nature are easier to pick up. Anything else is very muddy.”

“Muddy” didn’t mean he couldn’t read them, just that they were harder to hear. Fabulous. Not.

“When and where do you want to meet?”

“There’s a lovely little bar down the Paris end of CoPalis end llins Street—Maxwell’s, it’s called. Shall we say midnight?”

“Fine. Now, if you don’t mind, get the hell out of here so I can go home and get ready for work.”

“Your grouchy side is showing, my dear.” His gaze swept to Azriel. “Understandable, I guess, given the company you’re forced to keep twenty-four/seven.”

Azriel took one step forward, then stopped. Other than the slight tightening in his jawline, his expression remained as impassive as ever. But the emotional turmoil that exploded through my being just about sent me staggering.

Lucian was a dead man if he ever gave Azriel the slightest reason to attack.

He will not, Azriel said. He is not that stupid. Nor am I that rash.

You might be if you hang around me for too much longer.

Many things might happen if I hang around you too much longer.

It was a comment that sparked an avalanche of questions and possibly some hope, but before I could say anything, Azriel winked out of existence—neatly avoiding said questions—and Lucian stepped closer. His scent was an enticing mix of lemongrass, suede, and musky, powerful male.

“Until tonight.” He caught my hand in his and raised it to his lips. The kiss was light and teasing, and oddly erotic. “Wear something sexy.”

“I have no intention of wearing anything sexy—either for you or for this dark sorcerer.” I ripped my hand from his, but the warmth of his lips lingered, making my skin tingle.

Amusement played about his mouth. “I can’t still be in the bad books for previous behavior, surely.”

“You can, and you are.” I shrugged. “It’s going to take some pretty stellar behavior to get you out of the bad books.”

“Ah, a challenge. I like that.” He hesitated, then added, “One thing, though.”

I raised my eyebrows in question when he didn’t immediately go on, and he half smiled. “This may seem a strange request, but do not wear your demon sword when you meet our sorcerer. They tend to be sensitive to demon magic, and it would create the wrong impression.”

I snorted. “I’m not really caring about the impression I give to a sorcerer.”

“You might if you want a solution to your problem.” He caught my hand again and dropped a soft, sweet kiss on it. My toes curled in delight. “I promise to protect you from any harm the sorcerer might offer.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to protect me from you?”

“Ah,” he said, his voice filled with mock distress. “You’ve uncovered my evil plan to have you helpless with desire by the evening’s end.”

Despite the annoyance—at both myself and him—I couldn’t help smiling. “Amaya’s presence won’t stop that from happening.”

“No, but it may stop the sorcerer from helping us. Will you leave her">Aou leav behind? Please?”

I eyed him for a moment, then said, somewhat reluctantly, “Okay.”

He bowed lightly. “Until tonight, then, when the games will commence.”

He gave me another smoky smile, then turned and walked away. And I knew that if I didn’t end up in his bed tonight, it would be a goddamn miracle.

It was just after three by the time I arrived at the café we’d named RYT’s, an acronym for rich young things, which was precisely what we’d been at the time we’d started the business. Though I was a good fifteen minutes late, the café wasn’t that busy, with only a couple of regulars sitting at the bar drinking Irish coffees and a third at one of the tables reading the newspaper. The article, I noticed with amusement, was one of Jak’s, but I resisted the temptation to peek over the customer’s shoulder to see just what he was reporting on this time. He might have stepped back into my life, but that didn’t mean I now needed to keep up with everything he was doing.

Even if that wistful, not-quite-over-him-no-matter-what-he’d-done piece of me desperately wanted to.

“Hi, Risa,” Manny, one of our newer waiters, said as I walked in.

“How’s things going today?”

“A particularly insane lunch rush has been followed by this lovely lull.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” I said with a smile, “because it won’t last long.”

The afternoon rush usually hit between five and seven, when werewolves hungry from the afternoon spent at the werewolf sex club Blue Moon came in to eat, and those on their way to the club came in to fuel up.

I looked around for a moment, then added, “Where’s Linda?”

“Apparently one of the kitchen hands didn’t turn up today, so Tao’s asked Linda to help with the dishes while we’re slow.”

I cursed softly. If there was one position we couldn’t seem to keep filled long term, it was the damn kitchen hand. It paid well enough, but it was hot, grubby work, and it seemed the younger generation weren’t inclined that way—it was all middle management and high starting salaries for them, or it was nothing.

Which was a comment Mom often used to make. I smiled, even as the wistful ache that she was gone swept through me again. No matter how close I was to my aunt Riley, she wasn’t Mom and never could be.

I grabbed the banister and headed up. I’ve got to go do some paperwork, Manny, but give me a yell the minute it gets busy down here.”

He nodded, and I continued on up to the office.

I was near the top of the stairs when the kitchen exploded in flames.

Cp whapter 4

There was a gigantic whoosh; then the kitchen doors burst open and a fist of flame punched through them. I ducked instinctively, but the flames were sucked back into the kitchen almost as soon as they’d appeared.

It wasn’t a natural action.

The flames were Tao’s.

He’d lost control. Had to have. Fuck.

I jumped over the banister, landed lightly in a half crouch, then surged upright and ran forward. The fire alarm went off, forcing me to shout as I said, “Manny, get everyone outside!”

He nodded, his face white as he herded the three customers out. I made a quick dash into the bathrooms to ensure that no one was there, then bolted for the kitchen.

I hit the doors with enough force to wrench one from its hinges. Water poured from the ceiling sprinklers and soaked me in an instant, but it wasn’t doing anything to extinguish the source of the fire—Tao. He was on his knees in the middle of the kitchen floor, his arms wrapped around his chest and his entire body alight. It wasn’t burning him—it couldn’t, because he was now more a spirit of flame than a werewolf with pyrokinetic abilities, thanks to the fire elemental—a creature created from magic—that he’d consumed to save Ilianna’s life. But his flames leapt high enough to fan out across the ceiling, and there were thick scorch marks above the stainless-steel oven surrounds—obviously, that was where the initial loss of control had happened. Yet nothing else had been set on fire, even though the intensity of the heat pouring off him had me flinching.

My gaze swept the rest of the kitchen, looking for Linda and Rachel—the other chef who was rostered on to help today. Neither of them was here, but the rear door was half open. Tao must have sent them out just before he exploded.

I scooped up tea towels from the nearby bench, dunked them in a sink that had trays soaking, then wrapped them around my hands as I approached Tao.

“Don’t,” he croaked. “You’ll burn.”

“Then fucking control it.”

His gaze leapt to mine—haunted, desperate. “It’s not me. It’s not my fire-starting abilities—it’s the elemental.”

I bit my lip against the urge to say something comforting. That was not what he needed right now. “And you’re both now, like it or not. You can do this, Tao. You can control it.”

“If I could, I wouldn’t have exploded,” he ground out.

True enough. But all I said was, “Well, the only thing on fire in the kitchen is you, so don’t bullshit me about not being able to control it.”

I grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him toward the freezer. His entire body shook violently, as if the flames that enveloped him were physically assaulting him. Heat soaked through the towels and singed the hairs on my arms, but the flames leapt no farther up my arms—he was controlling it, even if imperfectly.

I opened CStdem> the freezer, shoved him inside, then grabbed the safety-release knob and slammed the door shut behind the two of us. The flames were so fierce it felt like I’d stepped into an oven, and I briefly wondered if he’d get himself under full control before everything started melting—me included.

He squatted on the freezer floor and hugged his knees, making the overall area of his flames small. I stepped past him and grabbed some bags of ice, tearing them open, then pouring the contents down his back. The blocks melted in an instant, but it didn’t matter. What that did was get his core temperature down so that he could have some hope of regaining control.

Gradually, the flames subsided, until they were little more than fireflies dancing across his skin. I poured the last of the ice down his back, then tossed the bag on the floor beside the others and knelt behind him. I wrapped my arms around his still-shaking shoulders and held him tight. I was soaked to the skin—we both were—but I wasn’t cold. The flames might be practically out, but the heat in his body was still enough to warm an entire battalion of people.

After a while, he took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Don’t ever do that again, Risa.”

It seemed to be my day for getting told that. But there was no anger in Tao’s voice, only resigned weariness. I said, “You know it’s pointless telling me that, so why even waste the words?”

“Because I keep hoping one day you’ll actually listen to someone.”

I snorted softly. “And how long have you known me?”

He made an odd sound that stood somewhere between laugh and groan. “Okay, point taken. But it was still one hell of a risk. I wasn’t in control, and I could have hurt you.”

“As I’ve already pointed out, you were the only thing alight in the kitchen.” And that alone meant he had some level of control, even if he couldn’t immediately douse the flames. I dropped a kiss onto the back of his neck, then pushed to my feet. “I knew you wouldn’t let the elemental hurt me.”

“Next time I might.” He took my offered hand and let me haul him upright. As a werewolf he was naturally lean, but these days, thanks to what resided within him, he could only be considered skin and bone. Not abnormally so, not yet, but not far from it, either. “And the fire trucks have just about arrived.”

I cocked my head a little and caught the wail of the approaching fire engine. “You want to go out the back and reassure Linda and Rachel? I’ll go talk to the firemen.”

His smile was a little on the wan side, but it nevertheless warmed me. He was going to be okay—at least this time. “You always did like a man in uniform.”

“Most women do.” I gave him a grin. “And some men.”

“Not this man.”

“Well, no, not unless you’d walked in on one of Ilianna’s potion-making moments.” I hesitated. “Once this mess is all sorted out, you’d better meet me upstairs and tell me exactly what happened.”

He nodded, his expression suddenly grim. Prickles of concern danced through me, but I shoved them aside, then hit the freezer Ct ten laug door release and headed out not only to meet the firemen but to see what could be done about the mess.

As it turned out, there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. We cleaned up the best we could, but the kitchen itself was shut down, thanks to all the water damage, and it wouldn’t reopen until everything was checked and passed by the local government council, who controlled the planning and permits for the area. I spent the next hour lining up plumbers, electricians, and the gas people, while Tao rang the insurance company, then put signs in the windows explaining the situation. I hoped we weren’t closed for too long. Customers could be fickle creatures at the best of times.

I locked up, then pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge and headed upstairs.

“So, give with the details.” I handed Tao a beer and plopped down on a nearby chair.

He sighed and put his feet up. His warm brown eyes, when they met mine, were somber. “I was pulling a double shift because Jacques had his dad’s funeral today, and no one was able to fill in.”

I nodded. I knew all that—just as I knew that Tao could have called in a temp but didn’t because he was a little on the fussy side when it came to just who worked in his kitchen.

“Lunch was madder than normal and the kitchen was its usual stinking-hot self.” He grimaced. “In this day and age you’d think they’d make air-con that could function more efficiently in kitchens.”

“I’m sure they do. Problem is, we don’t actually own this building.”

“Yeah. Might have to fix that now that the place is pulling decent money.” He thrust a hand through his still-damp brown hair. “Anyway, the heat had the thing inside me stirring. The hotter the air got, the stronger it got, but both Rachel and I were working flat out and I just couldn’t take time to go sit in the freezer for a while.”

“And you didn’t think it would get to the point that it did.” I said it softly, without accusation. Tao wasn’t the type to risk the lives of others.

“It’s never been this bad before. I don’t know why it was this time.”

I drank some beer and contemplated him. The elemental’s flames still burned fiercely within him—the power of it glowed under his skin.

“Obviously, the kitchen heat had something to do with it.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of beer and leaned back in the chair. “I had all the jets going on the stove. It seems to feed on that sort of stuff.”

It was a fire elemental, so that was logical. “It might also have been the sun. It was warm today.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No sun gets into the kitchen.”

“It mightn’t need direct sunlight. Maybe just the warmth is enough.” I paused. “At least no one was hurt. You controlled it that much; in the end, that’s all that matters.”

“But I almost didn’t.” His expression was bleak. “I’m scared to death it’ll take me over, and I’ll destroy everything and everyone I love.”

I put my beer down, then knelt in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I promise you, Tao, we won’t let this thing destroy you or anyone else. It hasn’t won the fights, and it won’t win the battle. We won’t let it.”

“I hope you’re right.” But his expression suggested he actually held very little hope himself.

I hesitated. “Maybe you should work at night for the time being. At least until you’re more confident of your ability to control the elemental.”

“Yeah.” He tugged his hands free from mine and pulled me close. For several minutes he did nothing more than hug me—it almost felt like he was attempting to hold on to his own humanity by hanging on to mine. Gradually, the heat in him began to dissipate, until his body temperature was only a little above what would be considered normal for a werewolf.

Only then did the tension in him subside.

He released me and said, “Looks like we’ve both got an unintended night off.”

I forced a smile and sat back on my heels. “I guess the fire did have one benefit, then.”

“I guess it did.” He scrubbed a hand across his stubbly chin, the sound like sandpaper against a wall. “I might take myself down to the Blue Moon and lose a couple hours.”

And the ghosts of fear, I suspected. They were ghosts I knew all too well, because they were inside me, too. “I’ll ring Ilianna and update her.”

“Oh fuck, I forgot—”

“Don’t worry,” I cut in quickly, as the air temperature suddenly spiked. The elemental might be down, but it wasn’t yet out. He needed to keep calm. “I’ll take care of it. Just go have some fun and relax.”

“I will.” He rose and kissed the top of my head. “Thanks.”

I caught my bottom lip with my teeth as I watched him walk out. Because I knew, despite my promises, that there was no guarantee he would win this battle. He had to find the strength within himself—none of us could do that for him, and certainly there was no magic or potion that would work in this sort of situation. Lord only knew, Ilianna and the Brindle witches had tried hard enough to find one.

Tao was one of the strongest people I knew, but he was obviously struggling. And I knew, deep down, that there was a very real possibility that we might yet lose him to the monster that resided within.

In the end, I decided against leaving Amaya behind. Lucian might fear the sorcerer’s reaction to her, but I wasn’t about to walk into the unknown without the means to fully protect myself. And if that meant that the sorcerer walked, then so be it.

Maxwell’s, it turned out, was more than just a lovely little bar situated at the upscale end of Collins Street. It also happened to be an extremely discreet wolf club.

Not that you could tell from merely stepping inside the place. It appeared to be nothing more than a very stylish, very elegant bar that CantLT Std">catered to humans and non-humans alike. The surrounds—old-world architecture, luxurious leather couches, and a stunning marble bar—gave it the feel of a gentlemen’s club, although overall it was far more friendly and welcoming.

It was only the faintest trace of sex and desire stirring lazily through the air that gave the game away and, even then, it was only an occasional tease.

I briefly contemplated walking out, but if I did that, I might throw away our one and only chance to talk to someone with the skill to either stop or mute the transmitter in my heart. We needed to at least hear our options before we declined them.

Although if I was being completely honest, the real reason I didn’t walk out was that I was intrigued. I’d never heard of Maxwell’s—not even a whisper on the grapevine—which meant whoever ran it maintained extreme control. And that made me wonder why. Franklin’s—the private wolf club I was a member of—was also very discreet, but it was not unknown in the wolf world, and I imagined it catered to the same sort of upmarket clientele.

A waiter approached, a polite smile creasing his pleasant features. “Welcome to Maxwell’s, ma’am. Are you here for a casual drink, or would you prefer a seat in our restaurant?”

I hesitated. “I’m here to meet a friend—Mr. Lucian Dupont—but I’m not sure whether he’s booked a table or not.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Dupont said you might be late. He and his other guest have been here for just over an hour.” Though there was no censure in his voice, it was nevertheless a gentle rebuke. Obviously, one did not keep members waiting. Amusement teased my lips as he motioned a waitress forward. “Amy will show you to the private dining area.”

Was “private dining” a euphemism for the werewolf section? I guessed I’d find out soon enough. I followed the willowy waitress through the main bar and up the stairs. The third floor held the wolf club, if the strengthening smell of sex and lust was anything to go by, but we didn’t stop there. We went on, up to the fourth floor, then along a corridor that had darkly stained wood-panel doors at regular intervals. She stopped at the seventh one and knocked politely. “Your final guest has arrived, Mr. Dupont.”

“Please send her in,” Lucian replied, in a cool and authoritative tone. The high-end investment adviser, not the lover.

I wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or annoyed.

The woman keyed open the door and waved me inside. As the door closed behind me, I paused and looked around. I’d half expected some sort of private boudoir, but it was actually set up as a plush but comfortable dining room. A mahogany table dominated the space but, oddly, there were only two chairs. Maybe dark sorcerers didn’t eat. Or maybe I wasn’t invited to eat. He might be taking the “behave yourself” request to a whole new level.

And that would definitely be annoying. I mean, just because I was angry that he’d forced intercourse one time to read my mind, that didn’t mean I never wanted to partake of his particular brand of loving again.

The scent of sex was heavier in the room than in the hallway outside, but it was oddly entwined with the sharpness of blood. I frowned and glanced toward the end of the roo Cnd he m, which seemed to be the source of the scents. The entire width of the wall was covered by heavy red velvet curtains. I was half tempted to walk over to see what they were hiding but resisted, and scanned the rest of the room instead. The remaining walls were paneled in dark wood, once again giving the impression of something you’d see in a gentlemen’s club. A bar dominated the other end of the room, and it was against this that Lucian leaned. He gave me a wide smile when my gaze met his, but it was his companion who caught my attention.

Because it wasn’t a man, like I’d been expecting. And—for one fleeting moment—she seemed very familiar. But before I could figure out who it was she reminded me of, she turned fully around and the moment was gone. All I saw was a stranger.

She was a tall, full-bodied—almost matronly—woman, with angular features and dark hair cut close to her head. Her nose was large and Roman, and gave her an arrogant air. But it was her eyes that sent shivers skating across my skin. They were a blue so pale it was almost impossible to separate the iris from the white. And in those pale depths, eons of knowledge seemed to glow.

Enough knowledge to steal a portal key, perhaps? Maybe, just maybe.

And yet this wasn’t the person who had stolen the key from under our noses. Not because the person who’d taken it had been a man—in truth, gender could temporarily be altered, whether by a glamour or by more basic means such as makeup and wigs. It was more that she didn’t feel the same. The man—the sorcerer—who had taken the key held an energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. This woman didn’t, although she didn’t exactly feel clean, either. There was a definite taint to the energy that poured off her, but it was more an uneasy vibration of something not quite right than anything truly dark.

“Risa.” Lucian stepped in front of me, effectively blocking my view of the stranger. “You look divine, as usual.”

“It’s just a black dress, and there’s very little flesh on show.”

And for a very good reason—I still had too many bruises. Old ones, as well as the new one my father had given me. Divine didn’t give me enough coverage; this simple shift, with its high neckline, did.

“Ah, but it skims your curves delightfully, and teases the imagination. That is extremely sexy to those with good imaginations.” He kissed both cheeks, every action overly polite.

I raised an eyebrow in silent query. He grinned and said in a low voice, “You did warn me I needed to be on my best behavior if I ever wanted to get into your bed again.”

“Yes, but I didn’t exactly expect such immediate and polite compliance.”

“Why not? It is, after all, to my benefit if I do.” He swung around, offered me an arm, then said in a more normal voice, “Let me introduce you to our guest.”

He escorted me toward the bar. The stranger’s gaze flickered down my body and it felt like I was standing there naked, being judged inside and out. Her expression seemed to say I’d been found wanting. And that, unsurprisingly, was something of a relief. The last thing I wanted was to attract the interest of someone who dealt with the dark forces of this world on any level other than that of hunting th Cof t tem.

Not that the man who did hunt them had been sighted for the last few hours. Which suggested Azriel had taken to heart my snarky wish that they’d all leave me in peace and was keeping watch from a distance rather than up close and personal.

Lucian waved a hand in the stranger’s direction. “Risa Jones, Lauren Macintyre.”

“Evening.” Lauren’s voice was mellow and soft, the opposite of what I’d been expecting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

She held out her hand. My pause was brief, but nevertheless there, and something flickered through her eyes. Not amusement. Something deeper. Darker.

The fingers that wrapped around mine were long and warm, her grip strong. But there was nothing untoward in her touch, no dark shimmer or foul feel, despite that flicker in her eyes and the vibrations that continued to roll off her.

“Would you like a drink?” Lucian walked around the bar. “We have wine, beer, and champagne.”

“Champers, please.” I propped on a barstool and returned Lauren’s gaze steadily. “I’m gathering Lucian has told you the reason I wished to see you?”

A small smile touched her lips, though little amusement reached her ice-colored eyes. “A woman who gets straight down to business. I like that.”

“I told you she was a no-nonsense person.” Lucian slid a glass of bubbly toward me, then leaned on the bar.

Desire slithered through me, quick and hungry. I took a drink and tried to keep my attention on the sorcerer, not the lover.

And wondered, even as I did so, why the hell he affected me so strongly. He might be Aedh, and able to ensnare lovers with just a kiss, but this was something else. Something that was almost darker.

And that was worrying.

“Indeed,” Lauren said. “So tell me, what do you think of dark sorcerers?”

“My personal opinion is that you should all be dumped in the deepest, darkest hole in hell and forgotten about.” My shrug was casual, but tension rode me. I couldn’t be anything less than honest, even though she was obviously ready to walk, given the slightest reason, and being honest might well give her that reason. “I’m afraid I’ve seen too much pain and catastrophe caused by your kind to want anything else.”

“And yet here you are, wanting my help.”

“Just because I hate what you do doesn’t mean I won’t use you if I need to.”

White teeth flashed in what I presumed was a grin, though it was an oddly unsettling one. “If you had answered any other way—if you had been less than honest—I would have walked out the door.”

“Then thank god for honesty.” I contemplated her over the rim of the champagne glass. “So, back to my original question—did Lucian fill you in on why we wanted to speak to you?”

“Yes.” The amusement died from her lips. “I know of the reapers—one such as Co< I cannot help but be aware of them. However, I did not know there were beings called Aedh who once manned the gates to heaven and hell. Or that some fool wants the gates of hell opened permanently.”

That raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you trade with hellkind?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I want all hell to break loose here on earth. If demons were as common as ants, it would destroy my business.”

I snorted softly. Consorting with demons was a business, was it? “Then you also know why I need your help.”

She nodded. “However, we are talking about a device created by beings who aren’t of this world. I will need to get the feel of it before I can say whether I could help you or not.”

“That’s going to be a bit hard, given that it’s woven into the fabric of my heart.”

Lauren gave me a cool smile. “I did not mean that in the literal sense.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I simply need to touch you. Stand up.”

I took a large gulp of champagne, then did so. She pressed her hand under my left breast, the coolness of her long fingers sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. There was nothing sexual in her touch, nothing dark or uneasy, and yet all of those things slid through me.

Lauren closed her eyes. For several minutes, she neither moved nor breathed, although she obviously was breathing, since otherwise she’d have passed out.

Then she retracted her touch and opened her eyes, a frown creasing her smooth features. “The device is very powerful. I’m not entirely sure if it could be stopped from functioning for any length of time.”

“Damn.” I sat back on my chair and met Lucian’s gaze. “It was worth a shot, I guess.”

“Young woman, you weren’t listening.” Her soft voice held more than a hint of rebuke. “I said I couldn’t stop it for any length of time. Meaning, it might just be possible to stop it for brief minutes.”

“A few minutes is better than nothing.” I hesitated. “But whether we could use it would depend on just what it takes to achieve that.”

Her gaze slid down my length. Horror swamped me. Not that, I thought. Anything but that. Or blood.

But when her gaze met mine again, there was little in the way of desire. Just cool calculation. And if I hadn’t been aware of it before, then that look alone was enough to tell me she was very dangerous.

“Lucian has already informed me of your aversion to blood magic—”

“I thought you said she didn’t do blood magic,” I cut in, glancing at Lucian.

He shrugged. “If I had said anything else, would you have come here?”

“Probably not.”

“Then that explains the lie. You need to explore all options C

“Blood magic is not an option.”

“Which is a shame, as it’s the most powerful form of magic available here on earth,” Lauren commented.

I met her gaze again. “It also taints the user in the extreme.”

“That is a debate I will not get into. It does, however, lessen our options.”

“At least there are options.” Hopefully, there were some that were a little less unhealthy than blood magic. Although Ilianna was going to hit the roof either way.

“Perhaps.” She glanced at Lucian, then rose and finished her drink. “I will be in contact if I uncover any possibilities.”

She gave me another of those cool, thoughtful looks, then walked out. But as I watched her leave, foreboding shivered through me. She would find a way to mute the Raziq’s device—I had no doubt of that.

Just as I had no doubt that the price would be one I’d be reluctant to pay.

I rubbed my arms against the sudden chill in my flesh, and couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her.

“I’m glad she isn’t staying for dinner.”

“So am I.” Lucian topped up my glass. “As much as I like the occasional threesome, I have this odd feeling you would not have been your usual unrestrained self.”

I gave him a wry smile. “That is, of course, presuming I’ll have anything to be unrestrained about.”

He gave me an innocent smile. “Of course.”

I crossed my legs. “So how come you know about this place and I don’t?”

“A client told me about it and offered an introduction.”

His gaze was on my legs and his hunger stirred the air. It echoed through me, warm and delicious. “An introduction? You have to be introduced and approved to be a member here?”

He nodded. “Franklin’s caters to the rich. This place caters to the überrich, as well as those who derive pleasure from watching.”

“You can watch in any of the wolf clubs. And Franklin’s has private viewing rooms.”

“Yes, but we are not talking about common sex here.”

“BDSM?” I had no problem with that in and of itself, but beyond the odd handcuff fantasy, I really wasn’t into that sort of sexual play.

He nodded. “And blood play, fetishes, fantasies—but not all at once. Every night has a different ‘theme.’”

“And the theme tonight?”

“Bondage.” His gaze pinned mine, the intensity making my heart hammer. He didn’t care where we were; he just wanted—intended—to make love to me tonight. And while I hungered for his touch, somewhere in the dark recesses unease stirred anew. Becaus C anto make le while I was part wolf, and did have an above-average sex drive, this was definitely more than that. But no matter how uneasy I was feeling right now, it wasn’t enough to make me walk away. Not yet. He added, “But we do not have to stay. We can walk to my place, and I shall personally cook dinner for you.”

And then we shall love until you can take no more and beg for me to stop.

The thought whispered through my brain, distant and tantalizing. I wasn’t entirely sure that the thought was mine, although I wasn’t telepathic, and certainly hadn’t been able to catch his thoughts before now. But then, did I need to? The hunger in his eyes made it very evident where his thoughts were headed.

“Isn’t your place a little too far away?” I had no problem about actually walking there, but not in these heels.

A smile teased his lips. “As it so happens, I recently purchased a nearby building for investment purposes, but I’m keeping the top floor for myself. The entire place is being renovated, but I have a kitchen and bathroom in working order.”

I was betting the bedroom was in working order, too. “Why arrange to meet here, then? Why not just meet in your apartment in the first place?”

He caught my hands and raised them, palms toward him, to his lips. “Because Lauren wanted someplace public, but absolutely secure. Maxwell’s is certainly that.”

Lie, lie, lie. But the thought died abruptly as he began to place gentle kisses on each of my fingertips, then drew one into his mouth and sucked on it lightly. My breathing hitched, then became more erratic. I might have doubts about him, but there was no denying my attraction, enhanced or not.

“So,” he added eventually, “what is it to be?”

From the minute I’d walked into this room, there was only ever going to be one outcome, and we both knew it. The where was a secondary consideration. I raised an eyebrow, and a victorious grin lit his features.

“I thought as much, which is why I already have a lamb roast in the oven.”

“And everyone knows a good lamb roast is a guaranteed way of getting into any werewolf’s bed.”

“Well, that and dessert. Which is a triple-layer chocolate mousse cake.”

I laughed, then leaned over the counter and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. It left mine tingly with anticipation. “I might just forgive you if the food’s as good as it sounds.”

“Excellent. Shall we make a retreat?”

I downed the rest of the champagne, and felt its effervescence all the way down to my toes. “Let’s.”

He came around the counter and offered me his arm. I slipped mine through his, and he escorted me out of the building and across the road to his apartment. It was one of those grand old Victorians that Collins Street was famous for, and only five stories high, which meant his floor was at treetop level. The old lift rattled and shook as it swept us upward, then opened to reveal a vast room that was filled with building debris and smelled of paint and dust.

C wipen“Welcome to my palace.” He grinned as he caught my hand and guided me through the mess of dustcovers and workmen’s tools.

We walked through the remains of a wall into the kitchen area. It was very rudimentary. There was an oven, a fridge, and the bare bones of two small counters—one of which held the sink—but just about everything else had been gutted. Plates were stacked on the non-sink counter and a drawer that held cutlery sat on the floor near it. But the mouthwatering scent of roasting meat filled the air. I breathed deep, then sighed in contentment.

“God, I don’t think there’s a better scent in this world.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the free bench.

Lucian’s smile was wicked. “Oh, I can think of one or two. What would you like to drink? I have wine or champagne in the fridge.”

“Champers again, thanks.” I watched him pour the drinks, then asked, “So how did you actually find Lauren?”

He walked over to the oven and opened the door. Steam billowed, and the smell of roasting meat intensified. My belly rumbled happily. “I asked around, as I said. She was the only one willing to meet me. Us.”

I took a sip of champagne, enjoying the tease of bubbles on my nose. “So you’ve never met her before today?”

“No.” He hesitated, and looked over his shoulder. “Why?”

I shrugged. “It just seemed a little odd that you’d be in a place like that with someone you didn’t know for over an hour.”

“Well, I did have to explain the whole damn situation.” He paused, then said, “As an aside, did you leave your demon sword behind, as requested?”

I blinked at both the sudden change of direction and the fact that he couldn’t sense her. “You can’t tell?”

“I’m not sensitive to her magic, so no.”

I frowned. “I would have thought all Aedh would be sensitive to anything demon-related, given their traditional role of gate guardians.”

For a moment the darkness in his eyes was so intense it almost verged on insanity. It was gone just as quickly, but its mark remained, leaving me cold inside. It made me wonder why the hell I was spending so much time with him—what was the draw, beyond great sex? Why oh why did he have this incredible pull on me? Was it just a matter of Aedh calling Aedh? Or was there something else at work? Something deeper. Darker.

I really didn’t know, but I was beginning to suspect it might pay to find out.

“As I’ve mentioned before,” he said, “many things were ripped from me when they stole my wings and forever contained me in flesh.”

I forced a hand up and lightly caressed his cheek. “That doesn’t make you any less an Aedh in my eyes.”

He grinned, and the final remnants of darkness fled. “That’s because I’m still potent where it counts. Now stop avoiding the question.”

I hesitated. He couldn’t sense Amaya and—given th CndI’m stat she was shadow-wreathed and little more than invisible particles right now—he certainly wouldn’t feel her, so I saw no reason not to lie. Especially since I still had that niggling, deep-down chill and more than a small suspicion that he wasn’t being honest with me. “Well, there was much protest from Azriel, but I did do as you requested.”

“I’m glad. And thank you for trusting me.”

A statement that only made me feel bad for not trusting him.

He closed the oven door and walked around to where I stood. His lips brushed the back of my neck, and then he said softly, “Dinner will be another hour, at least. What do you suggest we do?”

His breath teased my earlobes, and a delighted shiver ran through me. “How about we talk?”

“About what?” The sound of my shift’s zipper being slid down seemed to echo through the vast space around us.

“How about why it took an hour to update the dark sorcerer, for a start. We both know that’s a lie, Lucian.”

“Perhaps.” His fingers brushed my spine, and desire coursed through me. “These scars are new.”

“They’re a present from the Rakshasa I killed.” My voice held a slightly husky edge. I swallowed some more champers, but it didn’t do a lot to curb the rise of desire. And whether the fierceness of that desire was natural or not didn’t really seem to matter at this point in time. “Explain what you mean by ‘perhaps.’”

He slid his hands around my waist, linking them just under my breasts. My nipples went tight. Ached with expectation.

“When you said you wanted to talk, I didn’t actually think you meant it.”

“I just want an honest answer, Lucian. That’s all.”

“There’s nothing sinister going on, if that’s what you’re implying. The simple fact is, no dark sorcerer does anything for nothing. She wanted payment, in blood.”

Horror twisted through me. I turned in his arms. “You didn’t give it to her, did you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? This is just a form I’m forced to use, Risa. I do not cherish it the way you all do.”

“But giving a dark sorcerer your blood? That’s like giving a thief free access to your credit card. It’s stupid—and dangerous.”

“She can’t do anything worse than what has already been done to me.” His voice was both grim and dark, and again it had me wondering just what lengths he’d go to for the sake of revenge. More than I could ever guess, I suspected. “I do not fear her, Risa, and neither should you.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that statement one little bit.”

We were standing so close all I could smell was musky, powerful male, and all I could feel was the heat of his desire. It took every ounce of control to just stand there in his arms—to not tear his clothes off and beg him to take me there and then. But I wanted answers. Wanted honesty, and he wasn’t giving me either right now.

“She is an extremely old—and powerful—sorcerer, Risa.” He hooked his fingers under the shift’s shoulders and slid them down my arms. It fell to the floor in a river of soft black silk and puddled at my feet. “She didn’t get there by making foolish moves. She knows a reaper protects you.”

I clenched my fingers, fighting the urge to wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. “I got the feeling she wasn’t particularly scared of reapers.”

“Only a fool wouldn’t be wary of the reapers, and as I said, she is no fool.”

My gaze searched his, but what I was looking for I couldn’t honestly say. “You can’t be sure of that; you don’t know her.”

“I know her kind,” he murmured. “Just as I know your kind.”

Then he kissed me, and any sense of resistance fled. I gave in to desire and just enjoyed. Somewhere in all our kisses, my bra came off, as did my panties. Then his mouth left mine, and he kissed his way down my chin, then my neck. When he licked along my collarbone, I flung back my head and moaned softly. He chuckled, and continued his downward journey, catching one nipple lightly between his teeth. A shiver that was part fear, part delight, ran through me. He teased me with his teeth, stopping just on the cusp of hurting, then swirled his tongue around my nipple, taking away the sting before he moved across to the other side. Then his lips left my breasts and moved down my trembling belly. He dropped kisses on either thigh, then gently parted my legs and kissed me, his breath washing coolness against my heated flesh. Then his tongue swirled around my clit, alternating fast flicks with long, slow strokes and driving me insane in the process. I shuddered, shook, and moaned, as the low-down tightness spread rapidly through the rest of me, until it felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, unable to think, unable to breathe, and more than ready to fall over.

Then he was in me, driving hard, thrusting deep. I climbed up onto him, wrapped my legs around his waist, and forced him even deeper, my movements as frantic as his. There was little sound except the slap of flesh against flesh, and the heat of lust and sex was so fierce that the air shimmered with it. I came, screaming in pleasure, my body convulsing around his. Heard his answering growl, felt him come deep inside me, his body suddenly rigid against mine.

When I could finally breathe again, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, long and slow. “Well,” I said, with a somewhat cheeky grin, “that filled five minutes. What next?”

“Next,” he said, cupping his hands under my butt, “we take this to a more comfortable situation.”

“And the kitchen bench wasn’t?” I murmured, wiggling a little against him. Despite having come only heartbeats ago, he was more than half ready to go again. The stamina of an Aedh left a werewolf for dead.

“It was suitable enough for a quick encounter, but I’m planning our next campaign to be a long one, and that always requires comfort.”

He shouldered open a door to reveal another large room. A king-sized bed dominated the middle of it, but in the far corner sat the working skeletons of a bathroom—including the biggest damn bathtub I’d ever seen. You could practically swim in it.

“And what about the roast?”

“I ravish, we eat, then I ravish some more, until you can no longer take it and beg for me to stop.”

Which was almost word for word what I’d heard earlier. Trepidation shivered through me, but it was quickly lost to the assault of desire as he put his plan into action.

He was a man of his word.

And in the end, I did indeed beg him to stop.

The scent of coffee stirred me from sleep. I flared my nostrils and drew in the delicious scent—one that ran through the heavy aroma of sex that still clung to the air. Hunger stirred, but it was a sluggish sensation. Which aptly described the rest of me. Deliciously so.

Footsteps approached, but I didn’t bother moving or opening my eyes. “What time is it?” My words were muffled by the pillow I was facedown in.

“Nine o’clock.” Cutlery clinked as Lucian placed a tray beside the bed. “I have coffee.”

“I can’t move.”

“Not even for coffee?”

“Not even.”

He chuckled softly. The mattress dipped as his weight hit it. “Your phone rang about ten minutes ago. You want to see who it was?”

“I guess I should.” I made a weak “give me” motion with my hand and forced an eye open. It was Jak—he wanted to meet around lunchtime. I groaned, not sure I would even be capable of moving by then.

“Anything important?” Lucian asked.

“A reminder that I have to meet someone for lunch.” I let the phone drop back to the bed and snuggled deeper into my pillow. “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything more than sleeping for the rest of the day.”

“And here I was thinking werewolves had stamina.”

His fingers began tracing lines up and down my back. While it felt nice, I barely had the energy to breathe, let alone go another round with him. And that was something I’d never thought would happen.

“As werewolves go, it seems I’m a poor specimen.”

“But you’re also half-Aedh. That should give you an advantage over regular wolves.”

“Not when my partner is apparently insatiable.”

He chuckled softly. “So you’re telling me you’re feeling no desire whatsoever right now.”

“I am.”

His hands slid down to the base of my spine, then over one butt cheek. “Not even the slightest stirrings.”

“Not even,” I murmured, stoutly ignoring said stirrings.

But the fact that the minute he touched me I seemed unable to tell him to leave me t Cto imehe hell alone had doubts stirring again. Not that those doubts did me a lot of good in this situation.

“Then if I do this”—his touch slid between my legs and gently caressed—”it will have no effect whatsoever?”

“None. Absolutely, totally zero.”

He chuckled softly and the bed bounced as he nudged my legs open a little wider. His caress found my clit and I bit my lip against the moan that rose up my throat. “Lucian, I’ve only had three hours’ sleep.”

“And?”

“And, I’d really rather—” His fingers slipped slowly inside me at that point, and the rest of the sentence was lost as my muscles clenched around him and pleasure shot through me.

“Ah, the stirrings of desire,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Let’s see if we can get it a little stronger.”

But his touch withdrew, and disappointment swirled. So much for having no energy, I thought, amused. Then he shifted, and something hot hit my back. I flinched instinctively, but it didn’t actually burn. The scent told me what it was—coffee. It drizzled down my back, following the line of my spine, until it ran between my legs. The heat was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and I shivered in expectation and delight. Then his tongue touched me, swirling across the moisture, lapping it from my skin, following the trail of it down my spine and between my legs.

Any pretense of zero interest flew out the window there and then.

He chuckled again and repeated the process, until the moans were thick and constant, and all I wanted was him inside me.

And that was when the phone rang. I cursed softly, knowing the ringtone, not wanting to answer it but knowing I had to. Uncle Rhoan rarely rang unless it was urgent and it would undoubtedly mean an end to the morning’s delights.

“Ignore it.” Lucian gripped my hips and lifted me into a doggy position.

“I can’t.” I reached for the phone. “It’s my uncle.”

Lucian slid his cock through my slickness, teasing but not entering. “I’m sure your uncle would understand. He is, after all, a werewolf.”

“Who doesn’t normally ring me. My aunt normally does all the social stuff, so this has to be urgent.” I hit the ANSWER button, but not the vid-screen option. No matter how open werewolves were about sex, I wasn’t inclined to let Rhoan know just what I was up to right now. “Yes?”

“Risa?”

“Yes.” Lucian hadn’t stopped his seduction, so it came out a little more breathless than it should have.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just busy. What can I do for you?”

Lucian slid fully inside of me and I bit back a gasp of pleasure. He withdrew, then thrust inside again, and then again, his movements becoming faster, more demanding, with every stroke. Pleasure pulsed through me, thick and heavy.

“We need to you to come down to the Directorate,” Rhoan was saying. “We have a major problem.”

“And why is your problem suddenly my problem?”

I have no idea how my voice came out so even. Lucian’s movements had grown fiercer, his grip on my hips harder, and I responded, pushing back against him, wanting all he could give, as fast as he could give it.

Then my orgasm hit, and I bit my lip against the scream, trying to hear what Rhoan was saying as Lucian surged within me, coming with such intensity it felt like he was spearing through my entire body.

“What?” I somehow said.

Rhoan growled low, then said, “Damn it, Risa, pay attention. Our killer has contacted us again. But this time, he doesn’t want to gloat. This time, he’s offering a challenge.”

“Challenge?” I repeated, too lost in the haze of satisfaction to understand.

“Yes,” Rhoan snapped. “He offered the chance to save his next victim.”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Except for one thing. He wants you on the case, Ris. And only you.”