Chapter Twelve

I SWORE AGAIN. VEHEMENTLY.

Azriel was beside me in an instant, his heat and tension washing across me, leaving me breathless. “There is a problem?”

I flung a hand toward the book. “The words are gone. I didn’t get the full directions for the key.”

“That is unfortunate, but there is nothing we can do about it now.” His voice held an edge that was part anger and part frustration. “The Raziq grow near. You must leave this place.”

“What about the book?”

“It is safer to keep it where it is than retain it in the fields at the moment. The Raziq are as restricted by the magic of the coven site as we are. That is not the case here.” His gaze met mine. “Go.”

I hesitated, and saw the annoyance flash through his expression. And he had every right to feel that way. Hesitation was stupid. There was nothing I could do against the force of the Raziq, not in this place and not in my own world. Staying here was only putting him in greater danger.

I pulled free of the fields and stepped back into my flesh. For several minutes I did nothing more than sit there, regaining my equilibrium.

After a few minutes, the awareness of my surroundings returned. The air was hot enough to burn my skin and it was filled with shouting—Tao and Ilianna, in trouble.

Fear surged again and I opened my eyes. The clearing was in flames. Everything burned—the trees, the ground, even the air itself seemed to be on fire.

I blinked, positive that I was imagining it, that my vision was faulty, but it didn’t help. The world was on fire.

The elementals.

I scrambled to my feet and twisted around, looking for Ilianna and Tao. I saw Ilianna first—she was running backward, intermittently yelling abuse and flipping the contents of two small bottles at the elemental that trundled after her. Given the way the creature’s fiery form reacted to the spray, I knew it had to be holy water. It kept the creature at a respectful distance, but she didn’t have an endless supply and would need help soon.

I swept my gaze past her. Tao was on the opposite side of the circle, his body ablaze as he stood his ground, going toe-to-toe with a second elemental, battling fire with fire. His fire didn’t seem to be having much effect on the creature, but at least the elemental’s fire didn’t seem to be hurting him. Which was something to be thankful for.

The third elemental was nowhere to be seen, but instinct said it wouldn’t be far.

I drew Amaya free from her scabbard and ran through the circle. This would destroy any protection it offered and leave the book open to attack, but I didn’t have any other choice. Ilianna had just thrown the first of her bottles at the creature, which meant she was out of water.

I screamed and raised the sword high above my head. Amaya’s hissing was an electric, vehement sound that filled the clearing and made the creature shudder. It turned around, its movements heavy yet rapid.

I swung Amaya. Lilac fire splattered through the air in a wide arc, whipping around the creature like a leash, burning where it touched. Then the blade hit it. Unlike the white ash stakes I’d used the last time I’d confronted these things, Amaya didn’t slice through the elemental, allowing it to divide and regenerate. She simply consumed it.

The creature’s flame seemed to wrap around the black of her blade, and then it melted away, as if its energy were being drawn into the sword itself. The blade shuddered and glowed, the ethereal steel glinting and flaring as the purple leash of her fire drew tighter and tighter, until the elemental was little more than a flicker of flame, and all I could hear was Amaya’s fierce hissing and the elemental’s dying screams.

Then the last of the fire creature was gone, and Amaya felt heavier in my hand—almost as if her belly were full. I shuddered, then thrust the thought aside and looked at Ilianna.

“You okay?”

She nodded and wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead. “Just fucking hot.”

No doubt thanks to both the elementals and fires they’d lit in the forest. Fires the sentient forces residing in this place weren’t happy about, if the seething mass of energy filling the air was anything to go by. “Keep alert, because there’s a third elemental around somewhere.”

She nodded and bent, withdrawing a knife from her left boot. It looked and felt like silver, and I wondered if it would do any better against the elementals than the white ash.

Then I turned and ran for Tao.

He and the second elemental were still trading fiery blows, but Tao’s flames were no longer as bright or as fierce as they had been. I raised Amaya and screamed again, drawing the attention of the creature.

It swung around and aimed a ponderous fist at me. Fire spat from Tao’s fingertips, forming a rope of flame that spun around the creature’s wrist and snapped it back. Tao stepped away—his flame dying everywhere except for that one band around the creature’s wrist—and pulled with all his might.

The creature stumbled sideways, arms flailing as it struggled to regain balance. I leapt close, letting the heat of the thing wash over me, feeling the burn flush across my skin as I swung Amaya at the elemental’s head.

This time, the sword didn’t consume. She simply killed.

Black steel met with flame and the creature exploded. The force of it knocked me backward, and I landed on my butt several feet away. I grunted as the shock of the landing reverberated up my spine, but nevertheless tightened my grip on my sword and scanned the clearing.

Where the elemental had been standing, there was now a large patch of burned, sooty-looking ground. Several feet to the other side of that was Tao. He looked beat, his face drawn and ashen, as if the force of his flames had drained every ounce of life out of him.

But he gave me a tired smile when his gaze met mine. “I think you timed your reentry into our world almost perfectly. Another few minutes and I would have flamed out.”

I pushed to my feet, sheathed Amaya, then walked over to Tao. Every step felt heavy, as if the sword’s weight had somehow become mine. Or maybe it was simply exhaustion. Walking the gray fields always drained me, and I’d done that and battled creatures on both that plain and this.

I pulled Tao to his feet, then gave him a quick hug and said, “Thank you.”

He snorted softly. “We are family, and a family stands together.”

“I know, but—”

He placed a gentle finger against my lips. He smelled of flame and fierceness and also, oddly, elation. He’d actually enjoyed fighting the elementals. “As I’ve said before, you are not doing any of this alone—”

He paused and frowned suddenly, his gaze going past me. “What the—” He swore, pushed me aside, and ran. “Ilianna, watch out!”

I swung around and instinctively bolted after him, fear slamming through me as I saw what he’d seen. The last elemental was forming out of the flames that engulfed a eucalyptus, and it was oozing down toward Ilianna.

I drew Amaya and flung her as hard as I could at the elemental. The sword whooshed high above Tao’s head and hit the creature in the midsection. But it did little more than make it falter and scream, because the force of my throw sent the blade right through the creature’s body and thudding into a tree at the edge of the clearing.

At least it gave Ilianna time to get out of the elemental’s reach. While she scrambled backward, Tao launched himself at it, his body arcing through the air like a bullet, flames licking across his skin as he hit the creature hard and ripped it from the tree.

“Tao!” I screamed, as the two of them went tumbling, a seething mass of flames and arms and screams. Tao’s screams. Horrible, pain-filled screams.

Oh God, oh God … No!

I ran past their tumbling, twisting forms, wrenched Amaya free from the tree, and swung her high. But as I did, there was a weird sucking sound—it was almost as if the fire creature was consuming every ounce of air around it. A second later I realized it wasn’t the creature. It was Tao. And his flames were growing brighter, fiercer.

He was drawing the creature’s energy into himself!

“Tao, don’t!” I screamed again, but the words were lost to another explosion—one powerful enough to throw me the full length of the clearing. I hit a tree trunk hard, heard a crack, and knew something inside me had broken. Pain washed through me as I dropped like a stone to the ground and for a moment there were so many stars dancing in front of my eyes that I couldn’t see anything else.

Damn it, it hurt. It would hurt more to move. And yet move I did, wanting—needing—to know if Tao was still alive.

I pushed to my feet and staggered back across the clearing, holding a hand to my side and feeling pain every time I took a step or drew a breath. The heat of the fires that still burned all around us was nothing compared with the burn inside me. Sweat broke out across my brow and my stomach twisted, threatening to rebel. But I staggered on, my gaze on the unmoving Tao.

He couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t.

I dropped on my knees beside him. The action jarred my whole body, but I swallowed heavily and studied my friend, searching for some sign of life, but fearful of actually touching him lest I find none.

I couldn’t see him breathing, but his skin was red and the heat within him burned so fiercely it washed over me like flame.

He couldn’t be dead. Not when the fire was still burning so ferociously inside of him.

“Risa?” Ilianna said tentatively, from somewhere behind me. “Is he … ?”

“I don’t know.” My voice broke as I said it. I swallowed heavily, then gathered the remnants of my courage and touched his neck. It was as if I’d inserted my fingers into the heart of a cauldron. It hurt. Burned.

I jerked my fingers away before they blistered, but not before I’d caught a pulse. It was thready and erratic, but it was there.

I closed my eyes and released the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“He’s okay,” I said, even though I knew that wasn’t necessarily the case. He’d sucked in the energy of a fire elemental—consumed it, in much the same manner as my demon sword had. But Tao was a half-breed were, not a sword forged in the death of another demon, and who the hell knew what the merging of his flesh and an elemental’s would do to him?

Ilianna dropped down beside me. “God, he’s burning up,” she said, her voice still distressed. “Inside and out.”

“Have you got any holy water left?” I said, suddenly remembering how it had healed my wounds. It might not work on whatever was happening within him, but it sure as hell would help with his outside.

She nodded and scrambled up again, returning a few seconds later with a small bottle. “It’s all I have, though.”

“Then drizzle it over the worst of his wounds. His wolf healing capabilities should take care of the rest.”

I pushed wearily to my feet. Pain rolled through me, catching in my throat and, for a second, sending those stars dancing again.

Ilianna frowned up at me. “You’re hurt.”

“Yeah.” And if I had cracked a rib, as I suspected, then there was nothing I could do but grin and bear it. At least until I got my hands on some painkillers.

“You should let me see—”

“Ilianna,” I said softly, “the only cure for a cracked rib is rest and time. I can’t afford either right now. Just take care of Tao until I get back.”

Her frown increased, and her green eyes searched mine worriedly. “Why? Where are you going?”

“I’m going to find the first damn key and attempt to finish this whole stupid thing.”

“But that could be dangerous—”

“Yeah. Which is why you and Tao will stay here for now.”

“But Tao needs more medical care than I can give him. We can’t just leave him here!”

“Ilianna,” I said, as gently as I could, “he took an elemental into his own body to destroy it. I have no idea what that’s done to him, and I very much doubt anyone else will, either. I certainly don’t think there’s anything modern medicine can do for him that you and his own natural healing abilities can’t.”

“But if he’s in a coma—”

I hesitated, studying him, torn by the need to do whatever I could to help him and the growing desire to protect them both. “Look, if you think he needs it, call in some healers. But don’t leave this place. The Raziq are on the prowl, and this is the only place we know for sure they can’t penetrate.”

“But we can’t stay here forever!”

“I know, and we won’t. It’s just for the next twenty-four hours.” I squeezed her shoulder gently. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“God, I hope so.” She took in a long shuddery breath, then added, “Be careful, won’t you?”

“I will.” And bit back the instinctive urge to tell her the same, to warn her that Tao might not be the person he was if and when he woke. But on some instinctive level, she’d be aware of that—and as a powerful witch, she’d certainly be aware of the energy storm deep with Tao.

I gave her a tense smile, then walked back across the clearing to grab Amaya—and stopped when I saw the Dušan’s book. Or rather, the remains of it. It must have been caught in the last explosion, and it had been all but destroyed.

Damn it, could nothing go our way for a change?

I knelt and gently picked the book up. The leather binding crumbled under my touch and was blown away in cindery pieces by the gentle breeze. There was little left of the pages inside—just browned remnants as fragile as the cover. So much for Azriel thinking it would be safer here than on the gray fields.

I dropped it back on the ground, brushed my hands free of its grit, and stood up. There was nothing I could do about the book, and certainly no chance that I’d learn the location of the rest of the keys. I just had to rely on what I had.

And what I had wasn’t a lot.

I picked up Amaya and cased her back into her sheath. Her song was a strand of anger that buzzed at the far reaches of consciousness. It was slightly stronger than before, but certainly no clearer. And right now, I was happy about that. I wasn’t sure I was ready to understand the language of a sword who relished death and destruction so much.

I strode out of the clearing. Many of the trees were still on fire but, oddly, the fire wasn’t spreading. Maybe whatever forces lived and breathed awareness—if not life—into this old ritual site were somehow containing the spread. Right now I was willing to believe just about anything, including a forest that was more than it seemed.

The gates were closed, but opened as I approached. A chill went through me. Far too aware, I thought, as I stepped through them.

Azriel was waiting on the other side. His gaze swept me, and a slight frown marred his otherwise impassive features. “You are injured.”

Which was stating the obvious given I was still clutching my side and breathing as shallowly as I could. And hell, I could be just as obvious. “And you escaped the fields before the Raziq could grab you.”

He either didn’t get the sarcasm in my voice or was ignoring it. I rather suspected the latter.

He said, “They were diverted.”

I blinked. “Diverted how?”

“The how does not matter, just the result. How is your side?”

I shrugged, annoyed that he wasn’t telling me how he escaped yet not entirely surprised. “I’ll survive. We need to find those keys.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “What clues did the book give?”

I told him what I’d read, and he shook his head. “That’s not much to go on.”

“No. We need to sit down and try to work out the possibilities.” I hesitated. “We’ll need Lucian’s help.”

“There is no need—”

“Azriel,” I said wearily, “right now I have a friend who may or may not die, another who is scared out of her wits, and I’m injured and tired. I just need it all to be finished. I don’t really care what you do or don’t think about Lucian. I think we need his help when we go get the keys, and I’m going to use him, whether you like it or not.”

“Tao won’t die,” he said. “And you must live with whatever consequences arise out of using the Aedh.”

Knowing Tao would live didn’t relieve any of the tension still riding me, because living and remaining the man we’d grown up with and loved were two entirely seperate things.

“Azriel, I’ve been living with the goddamn consequences ever since you, the Raziq, and my father all decided to screw up my life!” I thrust a hand through my sweaty hair and sighed. Arguing with him wasn’t going to get me anywhere. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel. I’m gathering it’ll still be safe there?”

He shrugged. “It’s probably safer than your apartment.”

“Then I’ll see you there.”

He nodded and winked out of existence. I reached for my phone and called Lucian.

“Hey,” he said, his vid-screen dark and voice brisk, almost edgy. I’d obviously caught him in the middle of something. Or someone.

“Hey, yourself,” I said. “You interested in meeting me at the hotel for a little key-finding strategy?”

Excitement swelled in his voice but didn’t really lift the edginess. “You’ve read the book?”

“Some of it. Unfortunately, we were attacked before I could read all of it.”

“Unfortunate, as you said.” He paused. “But afterward?”

“Afterward we were attacked by elementals and the book was incinerated.”

He snorted. “You’re not having a good run of luck, are you?”

“No, but we’ve got enough to at least find the first key. That’s a place to start.”

“I agree. Where would you like me to meet you?”

“I’m heading back to the hotel now.”

“Then I’ll see you there in twenty minutes.” He hung up, leaving me staring at the black screen, wondering why our short, sharp conversation had my senses tingling.

I frowned, but shoved the concern aside as I put my phone into my pocket. Holding it tight, I reached inside and unleashed the Aedh. Her energy didn’t rush through me—indeed, it was little more than a trickle, as if there was an inner awareness that I’d pushed my limits and was walking the edge of exhaustion.

The change swept over me gently, shifting me from one to the other. Even in Aedh form, I felt heavy, as if I was weighed down by more than my own flesh. And I guess I was, I thought, suddenly remembering Amaya. God, I had to hope that she didn’t become a part of me for real when I re-formed.

I headed back for Melbourne and the Langham. Neither Azriel nor Lucian was in the room when I arrived, and of that I was glad. I re-formed flesh, not only imagining the sword as a separate entity but, for the first time, imagining my wounds as fully healed. I hit the floor with a heavy splat that left me shuddering in pain and gasping for breath, my head spinning so badly I wavered between wanting to throw up and falling into unconsciousness.

“You are such a fool, Risa Jones.” The words seemed to come out of nowhere. I’d been so distressed that I hadn’t even felt the heat of Azriel’s presence.

Yeah, I wanted to reply, you’re not telling me anything I don’t know.

Hands touched me and energy flowed from them, bright and sharp and reviving. I wanted to jerk away from it—tell him I didn’t need his help—but the truth was, I did. If I wanted to see this craziness through to the end, then I had to at least be able to open my eyes and walk. Right now neither of those seemed a possibility.

The energy continued to flow, and my body grew warm again. I opened my eyes and met his. “Thank you, Azriel, but that’s enough.”

He raised an eyebrow, but did as I bid and took his hands from my side. “You are not yet at full strength.”

“No, but giving me strength more than likely drains you, and it’s more important that you’re whole than me. You’re a better fighter.”

“Having seen you fight, I’m not entirely certain that’s true.”

I snorted softly, and regretted the action almost immediately. “God,” I groaned, “whatever you do, don’t make me laugh. I think I’ll die.”

“I’m a reaper. I don’t do jokes.” I merely eyed him in disbelief, and he smiled. “Do you wish help to rise, or would you prefer to lie here until the Aedh arrives?”

“What I prefer is a shower. And that means getting up.”

“Would you like some help?”

“No, I can manage.”

He looked skeptical but didn’t actually say anything. I blew out a breath and slowly—carefully—pushed to my feet.

Azriel rose with me, one hand out, as if ready to grab me should I fall. I pushed the sweaty strands of hair out of my face and gave him a weak smile. “See? I told you I could manage.”

“I think the word for it is stubborn,” he commented. “Have your shower. I will order food for you.”

“Oh, will you now?” I said, not sure whether to be surprised or annoyed. “And who made you my mother?”

“No one, obviously, as that is not physically possible,” he said, face as inscrutable as ever. Yet I sensed he was both amused and frustrated, and suddenly wondered if the Chi link between us was becoming strong enough that it was giving me a clearer glimpse of him.

I removed Amaya, placing the sword on the bed, then turned and carefully headed for the bathroom. A long hot shower revived me a little more, although I had scant success in scrubbing all the fibrous remnants of clothing from my skin. I was going to be pulling bits out for days.

After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel and carefully dried myself. A sudden knock at the door made me jump, but a second later the delicious scent of roast lamb invaded the room and I couldn’t help grinning. Azriel had ordered my favorite—and no surprise, given he seemed to have an all-access pass to my memories and thoughts.

I left the towel on the bath’s edge and walked out. He turned, his gaze scanning me briefly. Something flickered in his eyes—an emotion or reaction that disappeared too fast to name—then he waved a hand at the food.

“This is sufficient?”

“More than sufficient.” God, there was even Coke. I drank half the bottle then grabbed a piece of lamb, munching on it as I walked across to my bag. After pulling out underwear, jeans, T-shirt, and a sweater—I skipped the bra because I really didn’t want any pressure on my newly healed ribs—I got dressed. Azriel’s gaze was a weight that heated my insides and stirred things that had no right to be stirring. Not when it came to him.

“So,” he said abruptly. “This first clue—”

“Any discussion will wait until Lucian gets here.” I glanced at the clock as I sat down to eat my meal. Forty minutes had passed. It was unusual for Lucian to be late for any date, let alone one that might give him a shot at the vengeance he was so hungry for. Concern stirred, but I thrust it aside. If anyone was capable of defending himself against attack, it was Lucian. Although why anyone would want to attack him, I had no idea. It wasn’t as if he’d been involved in our quest before now.

I finished my meal and was on my second cup of coffee—feeling more alive if not more energetic—by the time he arrived.

Azriel opened the door. For a moment, the two men stared, reminding me of combatants in a boxing ring, each one measuring up the other. Then Azriel stepped aside and Lucian’s gaze met mine.

It was the gaze of the Aedh, not the lover. He was here for business, nothing more. Even the kiss he dropped on my lips was perfunctory, containing little in the way of warmth or desire.

He pulled out a chair and sat beside me. “What are we searching for?”

“The first key is veiled as an ax, but all I managed to get from the book before we were attacked was: It was sent to the west of Melbourne where the wild—” I shrugged. “Wild what I have no idea. Nor do I know if it’s literal or cryptic.”

“The Aedh don’t do cryptic,” Azriel commented. He’d stationed himself on the other side of the table, his arms crossed and face impassive. Yet dark blue flames flickered across Valdis’s sides, and I wondered if that was a sign of his annoyance or merely a reaction to Lucian’s presence.

His gaze flicked to me. Both.

Seriously, you need to stop reading my thoughts.

I cannot. Live with it. His mental voice was short and sharp, and I wanted to laugh.

You know, if I didn’t know better I’d think that was an edge of emotion creeping into your tone.

As I said, there are drawbacks to holding this shape for long periods of time.

The ability to become emotional being one of them? Interesting. And of course, the perverse part of me suddenly wondered if, with emotion, came desire.

And naturally, that was one internal question he didn’t answer.

“So,” Lucian said, “the mention of wild could mean anything from half the name of a sports team to a museum filled with stuffed animals.”

“Or a zoo.” I paused and frowned. “Although I can’t imagine that the Raziq would be daft enough to hide an ax in a sporting club.”

“And I couldn’t imagine a zoo having much need for an ax,” he retorted.

I leaned back in the chair at his tone, and he grimaced. “Sorry. Vengeance is so close I can taste it, and it’s making me a little edgy.”

Understandable, I guess, but that didn’t excuse it. “It’s not certain that finding or touching the keys will bring the Raziq to us. None of us has any idea just what magic went into the making of these keys or their disguising, and neither my father nor the Raziq was actually expecting to lose them.”

“Your father may have disguised and stolen the keys, but the rest of Raziq would not have allowed him to be the sole provider of blood when it came to the actual making of them. That would be handing one man too much power, and even the Raziq would be wary of that.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about the motivations of the Raziq,” Azriel commented.

Lucian’s gaze flicked to him, and it showed the contempt that Azriel was managing to hide. “I am a very old Aedh, and I have firsthand experience at just what the Raziq are capable of.”

I frowned. “Just how firsthand are we talking? I thought it was the priests who stripped you of your wings and power, not the Raziq.”

“It was,” he said, so evenly and flatly that I didn’t doubt it was the truth. And yet something within me stirred uneasily. “But the Raziq were a growing power within the priests when I was full Aedh, and it was thanks to their influence that I was punished the way I was.”

Hence his need to get back at them. I rose and walked across to the coffeemaker to make myself another cup. “So, the clue. If not a sports club or the zoo, then where?”

“A museum, perhaps?” Azriel said. “There would be lots of axes in such a place.”

I took a sip of the steaming liquid, then wrinkled my nose. Not enough sugar. I tore open a couple of packets and added them. “Yeah, but a museum would hardly be described as wild, and there are only a couple outside of the metro area. Sovereign Hill is more northwest, and Rippon Lea more southwest.”

“I do not think the instructions should be taken as gospel,” Azriel said. “Your father may have sent them in that direction, but there is no telling where his Razan ended up.”

“True, but I think we’d be better searching for the obvious first. You never know, we might get lucky.”

“It is never wise to rely solely on luck,” Azriel commented. “You tend to get disappointed.”

Wasn’t that the truth?

“So, the obvious,” Lucian said, a little impatiently. “What’s out west that holds wild whatevers?”

I grimaced, thinking. “There’s the Werribee Open Range Zoo, but as I said, I can’t imagine an ax going unnoticed there.”

Plus, zoos were always undergoing renovation. It wouldn’t exactly be the most secure place to keep a prize such as the key safe.

He leaned back in the chair. “So there is nothing else out there?”

“Well, there’s the Werribee mansion.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How old a mansion? And how would it tie in with wild?”

“The zoo is part of the mansion complex, and the building itself is very old. I think it was built only a hundred years or so after Australia was settled.”

He gave me an old-fashioned sort of look. “An ax would not stand out in a place that old.”

Given I wasn’t really into visiting old houses, I really couldn’t say with any certainty what was usual and what was not. “The mansion is open to the public seven days a week, which means we’ll have to go in at night.”

Lucian frowned. “If it is open to the public, then that gives us the perfect cover.”

“Yeah, but if I touch the key and the Raziq do attack, then people—innocent people—are going to get hurt.”

“Many more innocents will get hurt if the wrong people get their hands on these keys.”

“Yeah, they will,” I said, annoyance edging my tone. “But that doesn’t mean we have to endanger anyone unnecessarily.”

He grunted. It was a somewhat impatient sound. But then, he was Aedh, and though his many centuries here on earth had humanized his ways to some extent, they hadn’t changed his core being. And that being didn’t really care who or what was damaged in the course of getting what he wanted.

“Tonight then. They will have security, I gather?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then I shall take care of the electronic stuff.” His gaze flicked rather disdainfully to Azriel. “The reaper can handle whatever human security they have.”

Azriel didn’t comment, which surprised me, given his previous statements that he couldn’t physically intervene without just cause. Although I guess knocking out the guards did aid his quest to find the keys, and that might be cause enough. He’d certainly had no qualms about knocking out the half-shifter who’d attacked me at the rail station.

“It gets dark around six tonight,” Lucian continued, glancing at his watch. “Shall we meet outside the mansion around eight?”

“Outside the main gate, yes.” I frowned at him. “You seem to be in a bit of a hurry today.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, sorry, but I have a ton of work on my plate—tax time and all.”

An honest enough—and believable—answer, so why did unease wash through me again? Or was the strengthening connection with Azriel giving rise to my flashes of doubt?

“Are you sure you can dismantle the electronic surveillance and any other measures they might have in place?” I asked as he rose.

“Yes.” He leaned forward and dropped another kiss on my lips. This time, however, it held a little more warmth. “Maybe once this is all over and we both have more time, we can spend a week or two together in bed.”

I snorted softly. “I have a café to run, remember?”

“And I have a well-paid but demanding job. But once the tax-time madness is over, I’ll willingly cast it aside to lose myself in the delights of your flesh for a lengthy period.” His sudden grin was decidedly cheeky. “And do not try to tell me you would not do the same. I feel the anticipation in your thoughts.”

“You know,” I said drily, “it’d be nice if both of you would just let me keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Sorry, that’s not going to happen,” Lucian commented, echoing Azriel’s earlier remark. “I shall see you tonight, my sweet.”

And with that, he walked out. I watched until the door slammed shut behind him, then shook wistful, somewhat hungry thoughts from my mind and glanced at Azriel.

“What are you going to do?”

“That very much depends on what you plan to do.”

An odd tightness still swam through him, and I frowned. “Azriel, Lucian is on our side.”

“For the moment, it would appear so.”

“Then why not give the distrust and anger up, because it’s fucking annoying.”

Something flickered through his eyes. Surprise perhaps. “I was not aware that it was affecting you so. I shall try to be more circumspect.”

Which meant even more contained. I wasn’t entirely sure I was happy about that, because as much as his doubts about Lucian irritated me, I couldn’t deny the fact that I rather enjoyed getting these odd snatches of thought and emotion from him.

“You can’t have it both ways,” he commented softly. “The link between us will continue to strengthen the longer I am near. If I manage to contain the seepage of what I might be feeling in regard to the Aedh, then I will contain it all.”

“So just how strong will this link get?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Liar, I thought, and again saw that flicker in his eyes. But all he said was, “You have six hours until we meet the Aedh. What do you intend to do?”

I let out a huge yawn that basically answered his question, and said, “What do you think?”

A small smile touched his lips. “Then I shall guard.”

“What, you’ve got nothing better to do than watch me sleep?”

“Apparently not.” The mirth died. “Rest, Risa. You need it.”

My name sounded like chocolate on his lips—sweet and rich. I gave myself a mental slap and spun around, heading for the bed. I stripped and climbed in, not looking at him but at the same time very aware of his presence. I closed my eyes and felt exhaustion sweep over me. Even so, that awareness had curiosity—along with a whole lot of other things I didn’t want to dwell on—stirring.

“Don’t you ever sleep, Azriel?”

“I have no need to. We are not governed by the restrictions of flesh as you are.”

“But you’re wearing flesh, and you did say that the longer you remain in this form, the more dangerous it becomes.”

“The danger does not come from the restrictions.”

I opened my eyes. Even though awareness of him was a weight I could feel, he wasn’t even looking at me but rather leaning, arms crossed, against the window, staring out. His expression was thoughtful. Distant. And perhaps just a touch wistful.

“Then what does the danger come from if not the restrictions?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Then his gaze met mine, and in those bright, mismatched depths I saw bleakness.

“Sleep, Risa. I will wake you when it is time to go.”

He had to be the most frustrating, pigheaded man I’d ever known—except he wasn’t a man and I really had to stop thinking of him in those terms. But it was damn hard when he was wearing that form and—by his own admission—gaining more human characteristics the longer he remained in it.

I blew out a breath that contained more than a little irritation, then determinedly closed my eyes. Given everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours, it wasn’t entirely surprising that I quickly slipped into a deep sleep.

The smell of coffee woke me many hours later. I muttered something unintelligible even to me, then rubbed an eye and glanced blearily at the clock on the nightstand. It was close to six thirty.

I twisted around in the bed. Azriel was still standing near the window, but on the table between him and the bed was a small tray containing several plates and a steaming coffeepot.

“I ordered freshly brewed,” he said. “As well as bacon, eggs, and toast. You will eat before we leave.”

“And if I don’t, you’ll force it down my throat?” I said, somewhat amused.

“If it comes to that, yes.” There was little happiness in his expression, and certainly no sense of it in the energy of him. “It is advantageous to my quest to keep you not only safe but in a fit condition to face whatever might be waiting.”

“And the quest is all,” I muttered, tossing off the bedcovers and reaching for my clothes.

“You wish me well away from you. Succeeding with this mission is the only way to achieve that.”

I glanced up at him as I pulled on my jeans. He still wasn’t looking at me, yet I knew he was as aware of me as I was of him. I could feel the electricity of it in the air. See it in the taut set of his shoulders.

“So if we don’t succeed, I’m stuck with you following me around for the rest of my days?”

“Until either I am dead or the mission is in ashes.” He finally met my gaze, but no matter what I might feel in the air, there was as little emotion in his expression as ever. “Eat, Risa. We will need to drive to this mansion of yours. I cannot risk a journey through the gray fields.”

“But I can take Aedh form.” I frowned as I sat down and poured myself a fresh cup of coffee. Coke would have been better, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “And why can’t we risk the gray fields?”

“Taking Aedh form will weaken you too much. Besides, if the Raziq can track your father’s energy, they may well be able to track yours.” He shrugged, the movement eloquent. “And we dare not risk the fields because the Raziq still roam there. They were sidetracked, not vanquished.”

“So you think they’ll be able to find us if we enter?”

“I do not know, and I prefer to be safe.”

I sipped the steaming coffee, then picked up my knife and fork and tucked into the bacon and eggs. Despite there being enough on the plate to feed an army, I finished it off in no time. After also finishing the coffee, I rose and strapped Amaya back on. The black blade spat and buzzed, as if angry about being left alone so long.

“You are her lifeblood,” Azriel commented. “She is angry.”

Oh great. I’d managed to piss off a sword. Was there no end to my talents?

“Apparently not.” Azriel pushed away from the window and picked up the jacket lying on the other bed, handing it to me. “Are you ready?”

“Not really, but it’s not like I have a choice.” Not with the threat hanging over both Ilianna and Tao.

Tao. I closed my eyes for a moment and prayed like hell that he’d come out of whatever the elemental had done to him okay.

Azriel didn’t comment. Maybe even he didn’t know what fate awaited Tao.

We grabbed a taxi outside the hotel. Despite the fact that rush hour had passed, there was still a fair amount of traffic on the freeway and the going was slow. I directed the driver to a house just up the road from the mansion’s main gate so that he didn’t think it odd or—worse—do something civil-minded like phone the police.

The night was clear and the air crisp. I shivered and zipped up my jacket, glad Azriel had grabbed it.

“The Aedh waits at the gate,” he commented. I peered through the darkness but couldn’t actually see Lucian. Then again he’d been around long enough to know how to remain hidden from prying eyes. “I will go inside and neutralize the guards.”

I frowned. “I thought you said it would be too dangerous to walk the gray fields at the moment?”

His gaze met mine. “Only if I’m accompanied by you. Alone, I’m just another reaper on the fields. Your presence, however, is like a beacon to those attuned to you.”

“And the Raziq are?”

“I cannot say for sure, but I am not willing to run that risk. Wait with the Aedh until I return.”

And with that, he winked out of existence. I headed for the gates and, in the shadows of the signs, saw Lucian.

“Hey gorgeous,” he said, stepping away from the back of the sign he’d been leaning against. “Why the hell did you arrive by taxi?”

“Azriel was worried that the Raziq might have been able to sense my presence in the gray fields.” I let him sweep me into his arms, feeling the tension in him, the urgency—an urgency that spoke of the need to move, to fight. “For the same reason, I couldn’t become Aedh.”

“He’s being overly cautious.”

I shrugged. Maybe he was, but it was for my safety and I couldn’t exactly argue with that. “Did you bring any weapons?”

He smiled. “A small armory, starting with two long knives strapped to my back.”

“Knives aren’t going to be much use against Raziq. They may not even take human form.”

“Ah, but these knives are specifically designed to cut through energy beings.”

“So Raziq.” And reapers.

“Yes,” he said, leaving me wondering if he was confirming one thought or both.

I pushed down the slither of unease again and asked, “Was there electronic surveillance?”

He nodded and slid his hands down to my butt, pressing me a little closer. Despite my certainty that passion wasn’t part of his emotional makeup right now, he was fully aroused and as hard as a rock.

“The anticipation of an oncoming fight does that to me,” he commented. “But I shall restrain the urge to ravish you senseless until after we complete our mission.”

“Just as well,” I said drily. “Because if you’d tried, I would have knocked you out.”

“That wouldn’t have been any use.” He grinned as he tapped his head. “It’s way too hard.”

I snorted softly and pulled away from him. “Did you neutralize the surveillance?”

“No, but I do have contacts who have few scruples and who respect only the power of money. This entire area will be blacked out in—” He paused and glanced at his watch. “—three, two, one …”

Right on cue, the lights in the nearby houses went out. I raised my eyebrows. “And just how did they manage this, given said contacts don’t sound as if they actually work for any power company?”

“It’s easy to knock out a grid if you know exactly where to strike.” He shrugged. “This way, it’ll also look less suspicious.”

True. Azriel reappeared and said, “The guards have been neutralized for two hours.”

“And if we need more time than that?” Lucian said.

Azriel barely even glanced at him. “The mansion is not endless, and not all the rooms are furnished. Shall we go?”

That last was directed at me. I nodded, walked across to the white wooden fence, and leapt over it. And tried my best to ignore the ache in my side as I headed down the long, asphalt road. Crickets chirped loudly in the paddocks to either side, their song stopping briefly as we jogged by, then resuming once we were gone. The asphalt eventually gave way to stone, then the road split, one fork heading to the zoo, the other toward the mansion. We went over a second set of locked gates and continued down the road, the paddocks on either side giving way to trees, parking lots, and picnic areas.

“There is a gatehouse just ahead,” Azriel said, his voice soft and oddly at one with the darkness. “The mansion lies to the right of the gardens.”

I nodded, went over the fence to the right of the guardhouse, and pressed a hand to my side as we continued on. The mansion soon loomed before us, dark and regal in the moonlit darkness.

“How do we get in?” I asked as we walked to the main door.

Lucian produced an electronic lock pick. “How else?”

I smiled. “You do think of everything.”

“Someone has to.”

I wasn’t entirely sure whether the barb was aimed at me, Azriel, or both, but annoyance slithered through me. I thrust it down. In truth, I hadn’t really thought much about our task here, relying on the two men to get me in and out. And really, what option did I have? I might have been trained to fight by the best guardians the Directorate had ever produced, but that didn’t mean I was proficient at anything else a guardian might do. Like breaking and entering.

Azriel caught my arm as we climbed the steps, stopping me abruptly.

“There is magic here.”

Lucian stopped and looked over his shoulder, his expression disbelieving. “Why would there be magic here?”

Azriel hesitated. “I do not know. And it is … vague.”

“Define vague,” I said, wondering if the Raziq had somehow beaten us here.

“It does not have the feel of the Raziq,” Azriel commented. “And it does not seem to be active. Rather, it waits.”

“Waits? How can magic wait?” Lucian asked impatiently. “Magic is not sentient, reaper.”

“Not as such, no,” Azriel bit back, hostility briefly flaring in his voice. “But spells can lie inactive until set in motion by an event or action.”

“Whether or not that is true in this particular case, we have no choice,” Lucian said. “Not if you want to find this key of yours.”

Azriel glanced at me. I shrugged. Lucian was right—we didn’t have a choice. I motioned him on, and he pressed the lock pick against the door. After a moment, there was a soft click and the door opened.

I glanced at Azriel. “Any change in the magic?”

“No.”

Maybe that meant Lucian was right. The two men flanked me as I stepped through the doorway. The hallway beyond was wide, and filled with shadows that did little to hide the opulence. At the far end of the hall, a grand old staircase swept upward, splitting to left and right on the landing before rising again. There were several doors leading off the hallway itself, but I couldn’t feel any particular vibe coming from any of them. The dragon on my arm lay still and quiet—although to be honest, I had no idea if she’d react to the keys as she had the book. She’d come from the magic contained within the book, but the keys were entirely separate.

I stepped to the left, into what looked like a library. Though it was darker here than in the hallway, both demon swords flicked fire across the walls, giving me more than enough light to see by, but also stirring fear. The swords were reacting to something—and I had to hope it was merely the slither of magic in the air that Azriel had sensed, not something far worse.

My gaze swept the walls and bookcases, but I couldn’t see anything resembling an ax. There was nothing coming through on the sensory lines, either.

We moved on into the other rooms, searching the opulent dining and drawing rooms, a billiard room that contained fierce-looking stuffed animal heads, and the half-furnished kitchen areas. Again, there was nothing resembling an ax—or anything else that kicked the psychic radar into gear—in any of them.

We mounted the stairs. And for the first time since entering the beautiful old building, energy slithered across my skin—a caress so light it barely brushed the hairs on my arm. But the Dušan stirred in my flesh, and my gaze swept the hallway above. It was here. It was somewhere up here.

“You’ve found something?” Lucian said, studying me with a frown.

“I think so.” I paused at the landing, trying to catch hold of the elusive sensation. It came and went, as if there was still some distance between us.

I frowned at the long hallway visible through the richly painted arch. It didn’t seem to be coming from down there, although the sensations caressing my skin were so fleeting it was hard to be certain.

“Risa,” Azriel said softly, “we do not have all night. Pick a direction. If it is wrong, we can go the other way.”

I bit my lip, studying the doorways to the left and the right, then abruptly turned left. I strode past a bedroom, not even bothering to look inside, drawn on by the faint pull of power. After a short series of steps, we entered another hallway—one less opulent than the others we’d seen. The rooms to either side appeared empty, aside from one that contained office equipment, but I didn’t bother stopping. The pull was getting stronger, and it was coming from the room at the far end of the hall—the exhibition area, the sign near the door announced.

I stepped inside. It wasn’t just a single-story room, but rather three, with an atrium in the middle and a soaring, white-painted, window-lined, wooden ceiling. Moonlight poured through the glass, giving the room a cool, eerie feel. I took several more steps forward, trying to pin down the location of the energy that was burning across my senses. The Dušan stirred and writhed, moving from the left to the right as she did so. I frowned, wondering if she was actually giving me a hint. I walked right. While bookcases lined the upper level and there was a café below, this level was filled with information boards and the artifacts that had been collected over the many years of restoration. I walked past several boards then stopped suddenly as the energy all but exploded, blasting heat across my skin and making Amaya hiss her fury.

It was here. Somewhere.

I scanned the half-height boxes, seeing the remnants of a rusted garden seat, the strap off an iron fence post, and a pickax.

It had to be that. Had to be.

“Have you found it?” Lucian asked softly.

“I think so,” I said, reaching for it.

But my fingers had barely brushed the wooden handle when hell broke loose around us.

“What the fuck—?” Lucian said, spinning around.

“That dormant magic,” Azriel said grimly, “is no longer so dormant. And we are no longer alone. We need to leave—now!”

I gripped the pickax’s rough handle firmly as he wrapped his arms around me. Power surged—his power—running through every muscle, every fiber, until my whole body sang to its tune. But this time it failed to make us into energy beings, failed to transport us into the gray fields and away from the mansion.

Valdis spat and screamed—an echo of her master’s frustration, I suspected.

“What’s wrong?” I said, fear gripping me as he stepped back and drew the sword.

“The magic is preventing travel through the gray fields.” His gaze went past me, and his expression became grim. I didn’t even want to look. “Can you take Aedh form?”

I reached for her immediately. Her response was swift and harsh, no doubt due to the tension twisting my insides, but nothing happened.

“It is as I expected,” Azriel said. “We have stepped neatly into another trap.”

“Then we fight our way out of it,” Lucian said, drawing the long knives out of their sheathes and running to the right.

It was then I saw them.

Twisted, half-human, half-animal beings.

Fuck.

I drew Amaya. Her anger filled me, shoring up my courage. And I needed every ounce of it as I turned around and saw that there weren’t just one or two of these creatures, but at least a dozen. Their inhuman faces were twisted by madness, and bloodlust shone in their eyes. Whatever—whoever—had done this to them, they’d killed any remnants of humanity left within them.

“Stay behind me,” Azriel said. “We’ll try to get to the door.”

But even as he said it, the creatures surged forward. He swung Valdis, the blade screaming as her fire sent blue lightning flashing across the moon-cooled shadows. Body parts went flying but they didn’t seem to care, just kept on coming—a relentless tide from which there seemed no escape.

They swarmed over him and lunged at me. I moved backward, Amaya gripped in one hand, the pickax in the other, swinging both as hard as I could. My arms shuddered every time a weapon hit flesh, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to the tide of bodies in front of me.

And their stench … they smelled like humans who were now rotting inside. My stomach twisted and rolled, but I wasn’t entirely sure the smell was solely responsible for that.

From the back of the pack, blue fire begun to erupt, and I knew Azriel was attempting to return to me. I had no idea where Lucian was, but I could hear the howls and screams of creatures to the right and guessed he was still doing damage.

A shadow leapt above the writhing mass of twisted flesh, coming at me with speed—a dark form with feline features and half-furred skin. It resembled a man-sized cat—a cat with twisted, yellowed canines and hands that ended in long sharp claws. I ducked, letting the thing arc high above me, and swung Amaya. Her hissing was lost to the inhuman sounds these things were making, but her black blade sliced through the creature’s underbelly with ease. Blood and gore rained down on me as the creature’s momentum sent it tumbling over the railings and down onto the floor below.

I didn’t look to see if it was dead. I didn’t have the time.

Another creature leapt at me. I backed away, hit the railing that ringed the void, and swung both weapons. The creature snarled and twisted, its clawed hands lashing out—not for me, but for the pickax. They were after the key, not us.

I tightened my grip on the ax’s wooden handle as the creature tried to wrest it from my hands. It yanked me forward, into its body, clogging my senses with its reek as it snapped at my face with its teeth. I jerked backward, felt its canines slide down my cheek—marking but not cutting flesh—and lashed Amaya sideways, almost slicing it in half. Blood spurted and it howled, but it didn’t let go, tossing me left and right as it tried to win control of the ax.

Then two more creatures hit us, their momentum so fierce they sent us all tumbling over the railing and onto the floor below. We landed in a screaming tumble of arms and legs, the jolt so fierce that my breath whooshed out of my lungs and knives of pain speared my newly healed ribs. The pickax went flying from my grip, but Amaya stuck like glue, her blade flaming and her murderous hissing strong and clear in my mind.

She wanted blood. I gave it to her, swinging wildly at the nearest creatures as they scrambled to get up … after the pickax or simply wanting to get clear of the murderous blade?

I pushed backward, out from underneath the last of the creatures, then staggered to my feet. I was barely upright when the creatures flung themselves at me. But even as I backed away, slashing left and right with the sword, the strangeness of their behavior had me frowning. If they were intending to attack, why wait until I was on my feet to do so? And why, when there were three of them, did they not simply attack en masse rather than one at a time?

It made no sense.

Not the way these creatures were behaving, and certainly not the fact they were even here. If the Raziq were behind this, why didn’t they come themselves? Why risk sending these creatures when the three of us could never best a full complement of Aedh, no matter what Lucian and Azriel might think?

Claws lashed at me. I jumped back, hissing in pain as the movement jarred my ribs, but this time I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the creature’s way and its claws caught my jacket, tearing it to ribbons. But again, it didn’t slice into flesh.

They definitely weren’t trying to kill me. Despite the murderous light in their eyes and the desperate hunger that filled the air, something—or someone—had leashed them.

And there could be only one reason. Someone other than the Raziq, the reapers, and the vampire council was after the keys.

Even as the thought crossed my mind, energy caressed the room. An energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. My skin crawled in response, and Amaya’s hissing became so fierce it just about shattered my eardrums.

It wasn’t the energy of the Raziq. It was something else. Something that could make a demon sword burn with anticipation.

And she was burning. The black blade had given way to fierce purple flames that licked out across the shadows, burning everything she touched—be it flesh or furniture.

In the light of her fire, I saw the figure. It was man-shaped and indistinct, and it moved with speed, half searching under tables and in the deeper shadows.

It wasn’t one of the creatures, and it was looking for the ax.

“No!” I yelled, and swung Amaya as hard as I could, battering away the nearest creature, forcing it backward with the force of the blow even as the black blade sliced it apart. Blood spewed, spraying across my face and body, covering me in its putrid, sticky stench, but I didn’t care, diving toward the shadow in a desperate attempt to stop it.

Then the last of the three creatures who’d tumbled down with me hit my legs, dragging me down. My chin hit the edge of a chair and for a moment I saw stars. I cursed, kicking at the thing holding me. Bone cracked and more blood spurted, its scent stinging the air. The creature held on, screaming in fury and pain, but not attacking.

Ahead, the indistinct form bent and reached for something. The ax. I twisted and wildly swung Amaya at the thing holding me in place. The blade bit through the creature’s neck and my legs, severing the creature’s head but not even scratching me as it passed through my flesh.

Even headless, the fucking thing wouldn’t let go.

And then it was too late, because the dark, bitter energy fell abruptly away, and the shadowy figure was gone.

As was the ax.