Chapter Thirteen

A DOZEN DIFFERENT SWEAR WORDS RACED through my mind, but I didn’t bother saying them. I swung Amaya again, this time slicing away the arms that still held me so tightly. As the limbs fell away from the creature’s body, I kicked it off me and staggered to my feet. Someone hit the ground behind me and I swung around, Amaya raised. It was Azriel. He was covered not only in the stinking blood of the creatures, but in his own. Wounds crisscrossed his stomach and right arm, and blood seeped down the fingers that gripped Valdis.

His gaze swept me, then he said, “The ax?”

“Gone. And it wasn’t the Raziq.”

He swore—at least I think he swore because it wasn’t any language I understood—and thrust a hand through his damp hair. “I was not aware that there was anyone else after the keys.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered, and glanced up as something moved on the floor above us.

Lucian appeared, leaning over the side, his face bruised, clothes torn, but a fierce light in his eyes. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, but the ax is gone.”

He leapt over the railing, landing with grace and little noise. “The Raziq, I gather?”

I shook my head. “Not unless the Raziq use blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” He stopped to one side of Azriel, smelling of sweat and blood and anger barely leashed. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I felt it, and because I saw the man involved.”

“You saw him?” Azriel said quickly, then his gaze narrowed. “No. You only saw an indistinct shape.”

“Enough to know it was a man. A tall man.” I hesitated, squashing down the instinctive flash of irritation. As he’d said, there was nothing I could do about him accessing my thoughts, so I’d better get used to it. Which was easier thought than done. “It’s a start, at least.”

Azriel’s expression suggested that as starts went, it pretty much sucked. “The magic that prevented us from leaving has dissipated. We should go.”

“I can’t. I’ll need to report this.” Because if I didn’t and Rhoan got wind of it—which he undoubtedly would—then I’d be in deep shit.

Not that I wouldn’t be in deep shit as it was.

I glanced at Lucian. “You’d better leave. There’s no sense in you being here when the Directorate arrives. That’ll only result in hours of questioning.”

“And with my workload, that is not something I desire.” He sheathed his bloodied long knives and bent to kiss my cheek. “Call me when you’re free and we can plan our next assault.”

I nodded. He touched my shoulder lightly, then gave Azriel a somewhat dark look and walked across to the café’s door, opening it with the pick then leaving.

I glanced at Azriel. “Are all the creatures dead?”

He nodded and replaced Valdis. Her blue fire had quieted, even though Amaya still hissed and spat. But flames no longer drenched her blade, and the café was no longer ablaze. So maybe her cry was a reflection of the anger and hurt that still burned inside of me.

“The magic that prevented us from taking our energy forms also smacked of the dark arts,” he said. “I suspect the source is the same.”

I nodded and wearily pulled out my phone. I eyed it for a few moments, knowing I had to call Uncle Rhoan as soon as possible but, at the same time, wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as I could.

“Who else could be after the damn keys?” I glanced at Azriel. “And why?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“But would you, if you could?”

“Yes.”

I grunted, feeling the truth of his words swirl somewhere deep inside. “I can’t understand why anyone else would even want the keys! I mean, if they can’t traverse the gray fields, they can’t get near the gates, so what’s the point of stealing them?”

“It can only be another Aedh—one we know nothing about—or someone like you. Someone who wears human flesh but is gifted psychically, and who has the ability to walk the fields.”

“You left reapers out of that group.”

“Yes, because no reaper can use black magic.”

“Really? Why? Is it in your makeup or something?”

“In a sense, yes.” He shrugged.

Meaning, that was all the information I was about to get. Although, to be fair, maybe he simply didn’t know himself. “I may be able to walk the fields, but I’ve never seen the gates. In fact, as far as I know, I’ve never been anywhere near them.”

“Which does not preclude the possibility of someone else possessing the same set of skills as you not seeing or knowing of them.”

True. I rubbed a hand across my face, smearing blood, sweat, and God knew what else, then glanced down at my phone again and sighed. Better do it now, while I still had some energy to face him.

I pressed a button on the phone and said, “Uncle Rhoan.” Colors swirled across the screen as the voice-recognition software jumped into action.

A few seconds later his cheerful features replaced the multicolored swirl. “Hey Ris,” he said, but his smile quickly faded. “What the fuck has happened to you this time?”

“Long story. But you might want to get the Directorate over to the Werribee mansion. There’s a whole heap of dead, half-human-shifter things here.”

“Damn it, Risa, I told you to let me investigate the half-shifters!”

“I did. I am. This isn’t related to that, but something else.”

“The fucking keys, at a guess. Why didn’t you call in help?”

“I had help.” And probably better help than anything either he or the Directorate could provide—and safer, too, given Director Hunter’s interest in the whole affair. I had no doubt I’d catch flak over my failure to keep her informed as to what we were up to, but that was something I was willing to face. The whole idea of the vampire council getting control of the gates made my skin crawl. “Look, please, just come down here, so I can tell you what happened and then go home to scrub myself clean.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the phone was ripped from his grasp as Aunt Riley appeared. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me there?”

It was on my tongue to say no, then I hesitated. One of the reasons Riley was still hooked to the Directorate was her ability to talk to the dead. Or rather, the souls of the dead. “Hang on.” I glanced around, but couldn’t see any reapers other than Azriel.

“There aren’t,” he said softly. “These deaths were not ordained.”

I glanced back at the phone. “It might be worth trying to talk to the souls of these things. We might be able to learn something about their maker.”

“Good idea. I’ll bring some fresh clothes for you, too. You might want to clean yourself up first. Trust me, you’ll feel better without all that gore over you.”

I couldn’t argue with that, so I signed off and looked at Azriel. “How long before whatever you did to the guards wears off?”

“Just under an hour.”

“Time enough to find the bathroom, then.” I hesitated, my gaze sweeping his bloodied, grimy torso. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “This is merely flesh. I am unharmed where it matters.”

“But you can be hurt—even killed—in flesh form, can’t you?”

“Killed, yes, but the wounds affecting this vessel are not painful and will heal once I claim my natural form.”

My gaze skimmed his body again. Some of those wounds looked pretty deep.

“I’m fine, Risa,” he said softly. “Go find your water. I’m sure your friends will appreciate the effort.”

In other words, I stank. I snorted softly and headed for the café door. It only took me a couple of minutes to find the bathroom and I quickly stripped off, rolling up my T-shirt and using it to wash off the worst of the gore.

Thankfully, the coat had protected my sweater, even if the left sleeve had been shredded by the shifter’s claws. But my jeans were unsalvageable. I dumped them in the waste bin along with my undies, then washed my hands and headed out, suddenly glad that my sweater was long enough to cover my butt. Although the cold night air teased me in unmentionable ways that had my pulse rate humming happily.

Or maybe that was a result of the brief look Azriel gave me as I walked back into the room. Intense didn’t even begin to describe it. And though it was a weight I felt deep inside, I wasn’t entirely sure just exactly what it meant. Frowning, I walked around the other side of the café counter to raid the cookie jar, picking out a huge chocolate chip one as well as a macadamia and white chocolate.

“So,” I said, meeting his gaze again, a little relieved that the intensity had been replaced by his more normal inscrutability. “How will we know if whoever has stolen the key has used it?”

“We will feel it.”

“We? As in, you and I, or everyone who lives in this world and the next?”

“Those who are connected to the fields or who can walk them will feel it. That’s how we became aware of the keys first being tested on the portals.”

I frowned. “I didn’t feel anything when they did that.”

He shrugged. “It might have been nothing more than a sense of unease that you weren’t able to place.”

Maybe. And maybe he was overestimating my abilities. “These people might not have stolen the key to force the portals closed.”

“No.” Grimness briefly flickered through his expression before he caught himself. “And I do not know what will happen should the gates be eternally forced open. None of us do.”

“How could it be worse than that whole human-race-becoming-zombies scenario?”

“That,” he said, and this time the grimness did more than flicker, “would be a walk in the park compared to the hordes of hell being unleashed.”

God, I thought, it would be hell on earth. Literally.

My phone rang, making me jump. I glanced down, saw it was Hunter, and mentally let loose a string of curses. I might be willing to face her fury, but I’d been hoping to get a few Cokes—or even something stronger—under my belt first.

I was tempted to ignore the call, but I was willing to bet that would just make her angrier. I answered.

“So,” she said, her voice like the Arctic, “just when were you planning to inform me about this key-finding mission? One I gather has now gone spectacularly wrong?”

“When I had the key in my hand.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. I would have told her; I just wouldn’t have given it to her.

“Which you do not.”

“No. A trap was set and, unfortunately, we sprang it.”

“Why did you not call for help? The Cazadors—”

“If reapers and an Aedh could not stop this attack, what hope do you think the Cazadors would have?”

Her green eyes flashed dangerously. “Do not doubt the capabilities of the Cazadors. They are more powerful than you know.”

I doubted that, given I knew a whole lot about them from Uncle Quinn. “Look, Aunt Riley’s coming down—”

“I am well aware what Riley Jenson is up to. She is of no concern at this moment.”

And I bet she’d love to know that. But all I said was, “Has Selwin lifted the Maniae curse?”

“Yes. And in return, she will receive the protection of a new master when she turns.” Heat suddenly burned through the cool depths of her eyes. Heat and anticipation. “You have earned yourself quite an enemy, young Risa. I would watch your step if I were you.”

“To be honest, she can take a number and stand in line, because she’s the least of my worries.”

“That is possibly true.” She paused, and a small, cool smile touched her lips. Oh, fuck. The crap was about to hit the fan. “From now on, you will have a Cazador by your side. Day in, and day out.”

“Oh come on,” I retorted. “That’s—”

“The way it will be. Or else.” She stared at me, and though her gaze was as blank as her expression, a chill nevertheless went through me. Because that was the face of a vampire intent on a kill. And though I had Azriel and Amaya, I had a suspicion they wouldn’t be enough if Hunter decided the council was right and I needed to die.

I licked my lips, my heart going a million miles an hour as I said, “No vampire is coming into my apartment. Not you, and not this fucking Cazador you’re assigning me.”

She inclined her head. “Do not try to lose the Cazador, or I shall lose you.”

“Fine,” I muttered, then hit the END button and glanced at Azriel. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

“Yes.” He paused, his gaze turning to the café’s door. “And I’m afraid it’s not over yet. Your friends have just arrived.”

“Bring them on. After all, what’s one more bucket-load given I’m swimming in a sea of it?” I stalked across to the refrigerator and pulled out several cans of Coke. What I really needed was to get stinkingly, mind-buzzingly drunk, but given that wasn’t an option for several hours at least, Coke would have to do.

* * *

As it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t great, but I think Riley’s presence tempered the worst of Rhoan’s anger. He merely yelled at me for five minutes rather than attempting to violently shake some sense into me like I think he wanted to.

I pulled another chocolate chip cookie from the jar—a jar that had started off full but was now half empty—and watched Riley. She was squatting next to one of the half-beasts, her face almost covered by the long sweep of her red-gold hair. What I could see of her expression was distant, but her lips moved. She was talking to the soul of the creature she knelt next to, which to me was little more than a wisp of fog. I didn’t know what it was saying. And while I might yet be forced to learn how to communicate with them, I honestly preferred to stick to talking to the souls of the living. There was enough grief and pain in doing that. I didn’t need to lump the anger and confusion of a ghost on top of it.

Behind Riley stood Uncle Quinn, her lover and the vampire who had taught me how to use my Aedh skills. He was, in every way, angelic, from his beautiful face that was framed by night-dark hair to his well-toned body. Of course, the angelic looks weren’t exactly a surprise because he was Aedh. Not a full blood, but a half-breed just like me. Only he was older. Centuries and centuries older.

He wasn’t just watching Riley, though. He was connected to her by the press of his flesh against hers and via the psychic link they shared, giving her an anchor to this world. As Riley’s clairvoyant abilities had grown, so had the danger of her being permanently drawn into the between world. Using Quinn as her rock in this world greatly lessened the risk.

I continued to watch them, munching on my cookie and absurdly aware of Azriel’s presence at my shoulder. His arms were crossed and he was watching Riley with something close to surprise.

Because there are few in this world who could even attempt what she now does, he said, not bothering to glance at me. It is extremely dangerous to step into the lost lands as fully as she does.

Hence the use of Uncle Quinn as an anchor.

Yes. His gaze flicked briefly to the man in question. He was once a priest, was he not?

He trained as one, but never completed it.

Then why do you not go to him for information about the priests? He would be of more use than your Aedh.

I flicked a hand toward them. Riley needs him more. And to be honest, I’ve endangered enough people by including them in this fucking quest.

There are casualties in any war, Risa.

Yeah, I snapped back, but if I can avoid those casualties being my friends, I will.

He didn’t say anything to that. But then, he was well aware that anything he said would more than likely just make me angrier.

After several more minutes, Riley sighed and pushed to her feet. Quinn rose behind her, one hand under her elbow, steadying her. Her face was pale and her eyes haunted.

She brushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face, then said grimly, “These things were not willing recipients of the magic that changed their beings and their souls.”

“It was forced onto them?” I said, not entirely surprised. It would explain the madness in their eyes, for a start.

She nodded and leaned into Quinn. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lightly kissed the top of her head. I smiled a little wistfully, and half wondered if I’d ever find a man to hold me like that.

“They were homeless before the change, and they don’t remember much beyond being held captive underground for a long period of time.”

Meaning they weren’t Razan, which matched the fact that they weren’t tattooed like the other Razan we’d caught or killed. “And they have no idea where that was?”

She shook her head.

“What of the practitioner?” Azriel asked.

Riley’s gaze flicked to him, her expression neutral. She was waiting to learn more about the being before she passed judgment on him, and I knew her hesitation was no doubt caused by some of the comments I’d made previously. “That part of their memories has been burned away. I doubt whether we’d be able to retrieve it even if they were alive.”

“We certainly tried with the other fellow we interrogated,” Rhoan said as he jumped over the railing and landed lightly on our floor. “We didn’t get very far—although the Directorate’s witches said there was a decidedly dark flavor to the magic.”

Riley nodded. “It’s definitely blood magic from the feel of it, but it’s more powerful than anything I ever felt before. And older.”

Rhoan’s gray eyes glimmered silver with the force of his anger as his gaze slammed into mine. “Which means you really need to keep your fucking nose clear—”

“Rhoan,” Riley said softly. “Enough.”

He gave her a sharp look, then thrust a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I’m only trying to keep you safe, Ris.”

“I know, and I love you all for that, but my father has threatened to kill Ilianna and Tao if I don’t continue to hunt down the keys. I really have no other choice.”

“You may have no choice when it comes to the keys,” Quinn said, his voice filled with the most gorgeous Irish lilt, “but you can choose not to undertake this search with only a reaper by your side. However handy with a blade that reaper may be.”

My gaze flicked to Riley. She knew why I hadn’t asked them. I could see it in the slight twist in her smile. “I learned the hard way that I needed to rely on others, Ris. Don’t go through what I had to before you learn it, too.”

It was a lesson I didn’t need to learn. I was more than happy to lean on others for help—as long as it didn’t place them in the path of danger. And Riley, Quinn, Rhoan, and his lover Liander had been through enough already in their lives. They’d earned their right to peace. This was my fight, and my turn.

“Might as well talk to a brick wall,” Rhoan muttered. “She’s listening, but she won’t do it.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t—not when he was right.

“Send her home,” Riley said softly. “If you need anything else for your report, you can talk to her in the morning.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “But for God’s sake, be careful, Ris.”

“Uncle Rhoan, those creatures weren’t here to kill me. They were here to distract me. Whoever did this wants me alive.”

“For the moment.” He waved a hand. “Go. Just make sure you’re contactable in case I need anything else.”

I nodded and glanced at Azriel. I need to go see Ilianna and Tao.

He nodded imperceptibly. Shall I meet you at the ritual site’s gates?

I hesitated, knowing that I wasn’t up to much and yet very aware of the odd tension that still rode him.

Yes, I said eventually, and he immediately winked out of existence.

My own departure was a little less hurried, the change sweeping over me even more sluggishly. I was pushing my limits, and sooner or later the well would run dry and there’d be nothing left. Not even me. I’d scatter on the wind, broken and lost to both this world and the next.

But thankfully, that didn’t happen this time.

Azriel was waiting at the gates when I got there. The heat of him washed over me as I landed—more accurately, splattered—onto the roadside, signaling just how close he was.

“Don’t,” I croaked, warding off the possibility of help even though I couldn’t see him, let alone know for sure he was even going to offer.

He didn’t. I stayed on my hands and knees battling to breathe as every inch of me shook and my head felt like it was about to split open.

After what seemed like ages, a pair of sapphire running shoes appeared in front of my somewhat blurry line of sight. I blinked, then recognized them. They belonged to Ilianna.

“Fuck, Risa, you’ve got to learn to take better care of yourself.” Her jean-clad knees appeared as she squatted in front of me. “Here, drink this.”

She shoved a thermos at me. I sat back somewhat cautiously but nowhere near slow enough, and madmen with red-hot daggers went insane in my head. I blinked back tears and reached for the container, my hand shaking so hard the contents splashed over the rim.

I sniffed it warily. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon and eucalyptus, but there were other scents in there I couldn’t place.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said crossly, “it’s not going to poison you. Just drink.”

I did. The potion was thick and somewhat bitter, but I got it down and did actually start feeling better almost immediately. “How did you know I was here, let alone that I needed help?”

She raised an eyebrow. “How do you think?” She nodded toward Azriel, who remained near the gates, his arms crossed and his expression retaining its usual neutrality. But I still sensed the tension in him—though, to be honest, I’d never actually seen him look truly relaxed. Maybe tension was part of his makeup, or what made him such a good Mijai. Or maybe it was simply the end result of being forced to remain near me. Ilianna added, “He might not be able to enter the ritual grounds, but he sure as hell can yell.”

Azriel? Yell? He vary rarely raised his voice, so it was hard to imagine him actually yelling. Besides, surely I would have heard it. He wasn’t standing that far away. I handed her back the thermos. “How’s Tao?”

She grimaced. “No better, no worse. The holy water and his own healing capabilities have fixed most of the burns, but I’m worried about what might be happening on the inside.”

“We can’t do anything about that.”

She met my gaze. “We can’t. But maybe the Brindle can.”

I frowned and irritably brushed at the sweaty strands of hair that fell over my eyes. “The Brindle isn’t a healing center. What could they do that you can’t?”

“The Brindle is the home of all witch knowledge,” she said grimly. “And some of the most powerful witches alive today are there. I don’t know how to heal Tao, Risa, but they just might.”

Her expression was determined, but deep in the recesses of her green eyes fear lurked.

“At what cost to you?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t leave Tao like this. He saved my life, Risa. I can’t not do the same for him.”

“I know, but—”

She placed a finger against my lips. Her skin was even colder than mine. “I know the risks. I can guess what they will demand. But even if I’m wrong, even if they demand something more of me, it’s a price I’m willing to pay to make Tao well again.”

I gently caught her fingers in mine. “He may never be well again. We both need to face that.”

“I will—but only when we’ve searched every damn book in the Brindle and done everything possible to help him.”

There was no arguing with her. As much as we both knew Kiandra would use this to draw Ilianna back into the fold, if that was a price Ilianna was willing to pay, then there was nothing I could do to gainsay her. I wanted Tao whole as much as she did, but she was the one who’d be affected. If this was her decision—if this is what she was willing to do—then I could only support her—both now, and later, when the Brindle extracted its payment.

I squeezed her hand and said, “If you’re sure, then let’s call them.”

“I already have.” She grimaced and glanced past me. “That’s them coming up the road now.”

I turned around. My ribs—which I’d forgotten about in the agony of changing from Aedh to human form—sent me another sharp reminder that they weren’t yet healed. I winced, blinking back tears as I studied the road below us. Two lights speared the darkness, and the sound of a car engine suddenly rode the night.

I met Ilianna’s gaze again. “Who’s coming?”

She shrugged. “I asked for people versed in healing, just in case his condition worsened on the trip down.”

“So not your mother or Kiandra?”

She smiled slightly. “No. Mom’s in season, so dad’s keeping her busy, and Kiandra rarely ventures out of the Brindle’s confines.”

I said, “Isn’t your mom a little old to still be coming into season?”

She laughed and pulled her hands from mine. “A mare is never too old to come into season, and a stallion never too old to impregnate her. Thankfully, my father has accepted Mom’s desire not to have more children.”

“No doubt because he still has a whole stableful of mares to cater to his breeding instincts.”

“Ten of them,” she said cheerfully. “Some stallions never lose their virility, it seems.”

I snorted softly. At last count, she’d had around thirty-five half siblings. It sounded like that figure was still increasing.

A long, ambulance-like van drove into the clearing and stopped beside Ilianna’s four-wheel drive. She rose and strode over to talk to them. I blew out a breath, then pushed somewhat shakily to my feet and walked over to Azriel.

His presence swirled around me—a blanket of heat and something else, something that was oddly comforting.

And yet it made me ache far worse than any injury, because I wanted more than just a comforting swirl of energy. I wanted what Riley had. Someone to hold me, support me, to kiss me gently when I needed it, or to tell me off when I was being an ass. I wanted someone who loved me for me, warts and all, rather than loving my money or for who my mom might have been.

But I might never find any of that. Mom had never mentioned love and children in my future, and certainly it wasn’t something my visions had ever hinted at. Besides, the depth of love and understanding Riley and Quinn had found seemed to be rare in this world—or at least, that was the way it seemed to me given Mom’s experiences and mine. But that knowledge didn’t dampen the desire.

Still, right now I had to settle for what I had. A fallen Aedh who was an excellent lover, and a reaper who was a protector if not a friend, and in whose presence I at least felt safe.

Even if that odd tension still rode him.

I stopped beside him, rubbing my arms lightly as I turned and watched Ilianna lead the two witches—who were carrying a stretcher between them through the ritual site’s gates.

“If you are cold,” he said, almost immediately, “you should go sit inside Ilianna’s car.”

“I will.”

He glanced down at me. “And yet here you remain.”

“Because I want to know why you’re so tense. Are you expecting another attack?”

He hesitated. “There will be more attacks. We would be foolish to believe otherwise.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the cause of your tension right now, is it?”

“This person you saw stealing the key—was it your father?”

I frowned at the change of subject, although I wasn’t entirely surprised. He tended to do that when hit with a question he didn’t want to answer. “No. It didn’t feel like him. Why?”

“Because I cannot escape the notion that he is the most logical person behind this attack.”

“Why would he bother to attack us like that when we’re doing what he wanted and finding the keys? That doesn’t seem very logical.”

“Aedh logic is not human logic.”

“That still doesn’t explain the fact that it makes no sense for him to be behind the attack.”

“It would if it was some kind of subterfuge.”

I shivered, and wondered if the night were getting colder or if the chill was simply the result of growing trepidation. “What kind of subterfuge?”

He shrugged. “Maybe it is simply a way of throwing the Raziq off his trail.”

“Every time he interacts with this world—or with me—he reveals his presence to the Raziq. Why would he risk all that only to sabotage our efforts?”

“He would know that the reapers follow you. Creating a diversion and stealing the key ensures he gets it rather than us reapers.”

“But he had no way of knowing we’d found the key,” I said, frustration and perhaps a touch of fear sharpening my tone, “because he and I aren’t connected and he can’t read my mind unless he’s in my presence. And I would have felt him if he were present. Besides, you sensed the black magic before we’d gotten anywhere near the key. Whoever was behind the attack, they were well prepared for our presence.”

“Which, again, points to your father.” He hesitated, his expression cooling a little—which I hadn’t thought possible. “There’s a spy in our midst.”

I sighed wearily. I didn’t have the energy for anything else, not even to raise the spark of anger. “Don’t start on Lucian again. He was with us in that house and fought against those creatures, not with them. He isn’t a part of some nefarious plot to steal the keys from underneath our noses.”

“And you are one hundred percent sure of this?”

“Yes!” Exhaustion, it seemed, hadn’t quite snuffed out the anger after all. “Lucian might be many things, but a traitor isn’t one of them. Of that I’m positive.”

Azriel looked away. “Then I must trust your judgment.”

“And I’ve heard that fucking statement more than once. Maybe it’d be more believable if you actually did it rather than merely pay it lip service.”

He acknowledged the words with a slight incline of his head. “If it isn’t your father, then I am at a loss.”

I bit my lip and resisted the urge to simply sit down and cry. I might be feeling weak, but tears wouldn’t get me anywhere. So I crossed my arms, leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, and thought about what I’d seen and felt in that room. And somewhere deep in the recesses, an idea stirred. “Maybe,” I said slowly, “the dark magic itself will give us a clue.”

I could feel his gaze on me but I didn’t meet it, teasing out the idea, letting it grow. “This is not the first time we’ve encountered dark magic.”

“The witch who raised the soul stealer can’t be behind the theft.”

“Of course not. She’s dead.” I raised my gaze to his. “But what about the third person in the consortium?”

“We do not know who that person really is, let alone if he’s even a practitioner.”

“Yeah,” I said impatiently, “but the two we did find weren’t witches or sorcerers, so how did they even know about the ley intersection and the potential power they’d gain by controlling it?”

“Maybe the witch told them.”

“But they were buying up properties long before they employed her to raise the soul stealer. And that implies they already knew about the ley lines.”

“Ley lines are not something a nonmagical person would be aware of, let alone see.”

“Meaning the third person, whoever he is, is either magic-aware or a practitioner of some kind.”

His gaze narrowed. “Why then would he employ another practitioner to do his dirty work?”

“Subterfuge. Remember, we caught the witch in the end, but we never caught the third member of the consortium.” I shrugged. “It’s only a theory …”

“But a plausible one.”

Pleasure slithered through me—which was absurd and probably spoke more of my exhaustion than anything else. “Of course, unless Stane can uncover some paperwork that will give us a lead as to who that last person is, we really can’t do anything more.”

“Why not talk to the Brindle? They would at least know whether there are any dark practitioners active in the city.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ilianna is going to owe the Brindle big time as it is. I don’t want her under a greater obligation.”

“I didn’t mean that she should talk to them. I meant that you should.”

“Me?” I couldn’t help the surprise in my voice. “I doubt they’d discuss that sort of stuff with an outsider like me. I’m not even a witch.”

“But did Kiandra not tell you where to find Selwin and then give you permission to come to this place? Did she not warn you that the Brindle is not safe from the Aedh? I think that one knows more about this situation than you currently believe.”

“Ilianna might have said something to her mom. And we did ask her to translate the text in the Dušan’s book.”

He acknowledged the possibility with a slight nod. “I still think it’s worth talking to her.”

“Then I will talk to her. But not tonight.” I glanced past him as Ilianna and her two stretcher bearers reappeared and pushed away from the tree trunk to join the procession.

“He’s still burning up,” I murmured, lightly touching Tao’s gaunt face. It was as if the fires were consuming him from the inside out. I shivered and glanced up at Ilianna. “You’ll let me know if anything changes in the next couple of hours?”

Relief washed across her face. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going home to rest?”

“If I don’t, I’m not going to be of any use to anyone—even myself.” I kissed my fingertips then brushed them across Tao’s fire-touched lips. “Come back to us, my friend. We need you.”

Ilianna gripped my hand and squeezed it lightly. “If there’s a way to heal him, we’ll find it.”

As the two women loaded Tao into the back of the van, I gave Ilianna a hug. “Don’t promise them too much,” I whispered. “Your life is worth just as much as his. Don’t exchange one for the other.”

She pulled away and smiled, although we both knew it was forced. “A life for a life is not something the Brindle would ask.”

I didn’t mean literally and she knew it. “Kiandra wants you back at the Brindle. She may use this as a lever.”

“If I was to go back to the Brindle, it would have to be done willingly, with no form of inducement. The building and the magic would not accept my presence otherwise.”

I raised my eyebrows, but she waved away my questions before I even asked them. “Trust me to do what is best for both myself and for Tao,” she said softly.

“I do.” I gave her another hug then stepped away. She climbed into the back of the van with one of the gray-clad witches, then the driver closed the door and climbed into the front. Five minutes later they were gone and the normal night sounds of the forest returned.

I sighed and slowly walked across to Ilianna’s car. Thankfully, she’d left the keys in the ignition, because I hadn’t even thought to ask for them.

I opened the door, then stopped and looked across to Azriel. “You might have to come with me, just to make sure I don’t fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Why not let me transport you home? We can retrieve the car later.”

Because I don’t want to be that close to you. It was disturbing on far too many levels. Then I sighed, reached in, and grabbed the car keys. I was being an idiot again.

I turned and caught a brief glimpse of annoyance before his expression cleared again. I really, really needed to keep my thoughts in check.

I locked the car and forced a smile. “Okay, brave sir, whisk me away to safety on your wild white steed.”

He walked toward me, his strides long and graceful. “I am not brave, but merely do what I am assigned to do, and I do not possess a white horse. That sentence does not make sense.”

I didn’t rise to the bait—and bait it was, given the amusement teasing the corners of his lips. He wrapped his arms around me, and I did my best to ignore his closeness and the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against mine, not to mention the musky, enticing scent of him.

Power surged—a song that ran through every part of me, taking what I was, making it more, making it less, until there was no me, no him, just the sum of the two of us—energy beings with no flesh to hold us in place.

Then the forest was gone and we were on the gray fields, and somehow everything seemed brighter, more beautiful, and so damn tranquil that I wanted to cry. It almost seemed like I was seeing it clearer than I ever had before.

And then something happened.

The gray fields shuddered. Shifted. Leaned. As if it were a structure from which one of its main supports had been removed. The brightness flickered briefly then returned, but the tranquility was gone, replaced by a sudden uneasiness.

Then the fields were gone and I was back in my room at the Langham. I pulled away from Azriel, my heart going a million miles an hour as I said, “What the hell just happened?”

“That,” he said grimly, “was the answer to your previous question.”

No, I thought. No. I licked dry lips and said, “And just which question are we talking about?”

And all the while, the litany inside my head was going, No, no, no. Please God no.

“Remember wondering what the thief planned to do with the key?” He thrust a hand through his matted hair, and the sheer depth of the anger and frustration rolling off him just about stole my breath. “Well, that movement we felt in the gray fields was our answer. They’ve forced the first portal open.”

I all but collapsed onto the bed. “Oh, fuck,” I whispered.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “The shit has well and truly hit the fan.”

And it was all our fault, because we’d had the key in our hands and still had managed to lose it.

“We need to stop this, Risa, before it goes any further.”

I raised my gaze to his. “How? We’re doing all that we can right now.”

“But it’s not enough. These people obviously seek the destruction of both our worlds, and they are still out there.”

“That doesn’t answer the question, Azriel.”

“No.” He spun away, walked to the window, every movement screaming of anger. “We do what we have to do—we track down these people by whatever means necessary.”

By whatever means necessary.

I had a bad feeling the days ahead were going to get very long and very dark.

And very fucking bloody.