“As I have said, these intersections are places of such power that they can be used to manipulate time, reality, or fate. But they can also be used to create rifts between this world and the next.”
I frowned. “So a powerful enough sorcerer could enter the gray fields and presumably find the gates, even though he doesn’t have that ability naturally?”
Azriel nodded. “Although it is not so easy to find the gates in the fields. We are attuned to them; the sorcerer would not be.”
“But that might not matter if he finds the keys.”
“Which is why we must find the keys first.”
“Well, we won’t be able to do that until Ilianna creates the void for the book.” I hesitated. “But there’s one thing I don’t get. What was the point of buying up all the businesses around the ley lines? Why not just buy the building where they intersect?”
“Potions and spells do not require protection circles, but real magic—be it big or small—does. When it comes to an intersection this large, a prudent practitioner would want to build something rather more substantial than just a normal protection spell.”
“Something more permanent?”
“If they intend to use it more than once, yes.”
Then I guess the buyout made some sort of sense. “I think I’ll head to my hotel room to grab some sleep.”
“Get something to eat before you do,” he said, his tone indicating it was an order more than a suggestion.
“Are you always this bossy?” I said, exasperation in my voice as I headed for the door.
His lips once more twitched. “Only when the person I am supposed to be guarding is less than cautious about her own well-being.”
“And do you guard such people often?”
“This is the first and—more than likely—the last time I will undertake such an endeavor.”
I stopped next to him and met his gaze. “If you don’t like the mission, why not ask for a transfer?”
“It is my duty, and no one else’s.” His gaze didn’t waver, and yet something in those blue depths—something fierce and raw—made my stomach quiver. “And I never said I didn’t like it.”
“You’ve a funny way of showing it then, my friend.”
“That is because,” he said softly, “I fear it more than I like it.”
And with that, he winked out of existence, leaving me with dozens of questions I knew would probably never find an answer.
“Damn you to hell, Azriel,” I muttered, and clomped down the stairs.
Tao raised an eyebrow as I entered the kitchen. His brown hair was covered by an old baseball cap worn backward, and his white chef’s jacket was splattered with a colorful array of the evening’s cooking.
“You don’t look happy,” he commented. “Do you need a shoulder, drink, or food?”
“Mostly the last option, but a little of the others wouldn’t go astray right now, either.”
He caught my elbow and led me over to a chair in the far corner. “Sit,” he ordered, “while I rustle up a meal and a drink.”
I did as ordered. Tao, like most wolves, tended to be on the lean side, but he worked out religiously and, as a result, had not only wonderful shoulders and arms but a nice V-shape to his body as well. And he moved with a grace that belied his height.
“So,” he said, coming back ten minutes later with a thick steak sandwich and a huge glass of Coke, “what’s been going on?”
I updated him on everything that had happened over the day as I ate, and when I’d finished talking, he frowned. “So the first priority now has to be tracking down this Harlen fellow.”
“Stane’s not going to make much headway until we can get a full name,” I commented, grabbing a tea towel and wiping my hands on it. “I think we’re better off trying to find the man in charge. I mean, how many dark sorcerers can there be in this city?”
“Probably more than you or I are aware of,” he said grimly, crossing his arms as he leaned a shoulder against the wall. “And Ilianna is probably getting close to using up all her goodwill at the Brindle.”
“Which is why I’m going over there myself tomorrow to talk to them.” I wanted to see their reactions when I told them someone had raised a Maniae and had sent it after members of the high vampire council.
“You want company?” Tao asked.
I hesitated, then shook my head. I had Azriel and, at this point, it seemed wiser to keep contact with those I cared about to a minimum. At least until we sorted out the Aedh problem. They’d already gone after Ilianna—they might try Tao next.
Which only meant it was all the more urgent that Ilianna find the wards my father had set and try to reuse them around our place.
Of course, as Azriel had already pointed out, I was probably endangering both Ilianna and Tao just by being here at the café. I finished my Coke and stood up with a sigh. “I’ll be staying at the Langham for the next few days. You’ll need to find someplace else to stay, too.”
He grinned. “Finding a place to bunk down will not be a problem, let me assure you.”
I eyed him for a minute, then said, “How are you and Candy doing?”
“Sadly, it was just a fling, and now she’s moved on to greener pastures.”
I blinked. “You almost sound upset.”
“I am. It’s usually me doing the dumping, not the other way around.”
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Well, I can’t say I’m sad she’s out of your life, but I doubt she’ll find a better lover than you.”
He smiled and touched my chin lightly. “Damn right,” he said, a smile teasing his lips. Then it faded a little. “Be careful, okay?”
“I will.” I kissed him again then headed out of the café, catching a passing cab and heading to the Langham. Once in my suite, I crawled into bed and went straight to sleep.
The sharp trilling of my phone woke me. I groped for it blindly and croaked, “Hello?”
“Risa? It’s Mike.”
It said a lot about my state that it took me several moments to remember that Mike was our accountant. He’d also been Mom’s accountant and, I suspected, a whole lot more—although that was something neither he nor she had confirmed.
“Mike,” I said, rolling over onto my back and wiping the sleep from my eyes. “What’s up?”
I glanced at the clock as I said it and discovered it was nearly midday. I’d slept a whole lot longer than I’d intended.
“I need you to come in and sign some documents so we can complete the transfer of several of your mom’s assets,” he said. “I’m free at three—does that suit?”
I somehow restrained a yawn and said, “I guess.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” He hung up, but the phone rang again almost immediately. This time, the vid-screen opened up, revealing Stane.
“Hey,” he said, sounding far too cheerful for someone who spent his entire life sitting behind com-screens. “How’s it going?”
“I’ve had better weeks,” I replied honestly enough. “What’s up?”
“I’ve done a sweep of your place and removed several bugs. You’ll be pleased to know there were no monitors.” He paused, then added a little dramatically, “And I’ve had a minor breakthrough.”
My heart skipped several beats. “You’ve found the missing man behind the consortium?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve discovered who our mystery man known only as Harlen really is?”
“Remember, I used the word minor,” he said drily. “So no.”
“Then what?”
“Remember that rat-faced guy you were looking for? The one who delivered the Dušan’s book and the first letter from your father?”
“You’ve discovered who he is?”
“Better than that. I know where you can find him. And he’s there right now if you want to talk to him.”
Chapter Eight
THE CAB PULLED UP SEVERAL DOORS DOWN FROM the run-down building. I paid the driver and climbed out,
the wind snatching my coat ends and flinging them backward. I shivered and zipped it up, shoving my hands into my pocket as I studied the building.
According to Stane, this area had recently been rezoned from industrial to residential, but the demolition teams had yet to move in. As a result, the city’s homeless had taken up residence.
The building the rat-faced courier had entered was a quaint two-story brown-brick building sandwiched between two bigger warehouses. Large windows looked out onto the street but there was little chance of anyone seeing me standing here, as somewhat grimy blinds had been drawn down in all of them.
“These are the premises we seek?” Azriel said softly.
I nodded. “Stane couldn’t give us his name, but thanks to the traffic cams down the road, he spotted our rat-faced shifter enter here forty-five minutes ago. He hasn’t come out.”
“Then let us go in and find him.” He drew his sword. Valdis gleamed brightly in the dull afternoon light.
“You do realize we can’t kill him?” I commented as we crossed the road.
Azriel looked at me. “You seem to be of the opinion that I enjoy shedding blood.”
“I am of the opinion that you’ll do whatever is necessary to complete your mission. And if that means killing, then yeah.”
“I cannot kill if it is not warranted—something you’ve been told several times.”
Then he pushed the door open and stepped through, Valdis’s fire imparting an eerie glow to the shadow-filled hallway.
His gaze swept the immediate vicinity, then he looked up. “There are three people upstairs, five people on this level, and one downstairs, in the basement.”
“If he’s a rat shifter, he’s probably the one in the basement.”
He nodded and advanced. I followed, sorting through the scents that filled this place as I did. It smelled of age, refuse, and unwashed humanity. I couldn’t sense a shifter, but if he was down in the basement, then maybe the heavier aromas of oil and machinery were masking his scent.
No one came out to see who we were, although I did hear several movements. Maybe the homeless feared we were the police, sent to roust them out of their free lodging.
The stairs loomed out of the shadows. Valdis’s light died, although if the man we were hunting was a shifter, then he’d smell and hear us coming long before the sword’s brightness could announce us.
Azriel led the way down into the deeper darkness. I kept close to his back, the heat of him washing across my body and somehow making me feel more secure. When we hit the end of the stairs, the darkness became so complete I was virtually blind. I touched Azriel’s shoulder, not wanting to lose him as we continued on.
Gossamer brushed across my face and I bit back my squeak of fright. A web—sans spider, hopefully, I thought with a shudder. Critters that possessed eight legs were definitely not on my favorites list.
Our quarry is on the move, Azriel said, his words warm as they whispered into my brain.
Stop laughing at my phobia. I might not be telepathic, but that apparently didn’t stop him from hearing my thoughts loud and clear.
A point he’d proved time and again.
I wasn’t laughing. I am merely bemused that anyone could fear a creature so small.
Australia has some of the deadliest creatures on the planet, I retorted, and most of them are tiny!
It was an empty web that touched your face, and you squeaked, he said, mirth still very evident. Our quarry is now running.
Should we?
He can’t escape. I have a sense of his soul now.
And I had his scent. It was musty, sharp, and definitely rat-like.
We moved quickly through the blackness. Deeper shadows loomed, and the scent of oil and machinery sharpened. Azriel led me through the maze easily, obviously seeing a whole lot more clearly than I was.
There was a whisper of sound—dirt falling onto concrete—then the scent of the shifter faded sharply.
He’s gone through a hole in the wall, Azriel commented. I smell sewers.
For fuck’s sake, what was it with these people and sewers?
Rats do like them. Amusement rolled through his thoughts again. You may stay here, if you like, and I shall retrieve him.
You promise not to question him before bringing him back?
He studied me for a moment—something I felt rather than saw. I would not, but if you wish me to promise, then I shall do so.
It was a rebuke, even if it was a gentle one. I didn’t answer and, a second later, the heat of him was gone. I crossed my arms, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. But he was back quickly, the heat of his body announcing his presence long before the sharp scent of rat shifter hit the air and both men re-formed.
The shifter came into being screaming. “Fucking hell, what did you just do to me?”
Valdis’s flickering light lifted the darkness. The shifter was built like a string bean, but there was a strength to his movements that belied his gauntness. His face was angular—sharp—and his small eyes dark. Azriel held him securely by the scruff of the neck, but the shifter didn’t seem to notice, twisting from side to side as if to check that all the bits of himself had re-formed properly.
“You know what he did to you,” I said flatly. “You work for an Aedh. You must have more than a passing knowledge of their abilities.”
He jumped—a hard feat given how tightly Azriel was holding him—and his gaze settled on me. “Who the hell are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am. Just answer the question.”
“I would if I fucking knew what you were talking about!”
I studied him for a moment, sensing no evasion in his words and seeing no lie in his body language. Which was odd. “Several months ago, you were asked to deliver a package—and then a note—to a warehouse apartment in Richmond.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So you’re not a deliveryman, and the uniform you used was not yours. Who employed you to deliver those packages and how did they get in contact with you?”
He shrugged, his expression growing more uneasy. “The package was delivered here, with a page of instructions. I got paid once I did the job. I never saw the person and I never cared to, as long as I got my money.”
“And did you get your money?”
“Of course I did! I’m not a sucker, lady.”
I glanced over his shoulder and met Azriel’s gaze. He no more believed the shifter than I did.
“So you never saw who left the package here?”
“No. Like I said, the guy just left it sitting there with the instructions.”
“If you never saw him, how do you know it was a man?”
“Because girls don’t like the dark and all the spiders down here, do they?”
No, they didn’t, I thought with a shiver. Luckily, Valdis’s light wasn’t revealing any eight-legged critters in the immediate vicinity.
“Let me try,” Azriel said, then touched his free hand to the shifter’s forehead.
The shifter stilled instantly, and his face went slack. Azriel closed his eyes, and, for several minutes there was little noise other than the sound of both my breathing and the shifter’s.
Then Azriel opened his eyes again. “He does not lie. However, he does not tell the truth, either.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, Hieu has tampered with this man’s memories.”
No surprise there, I guess. Not when he didn’t want to be found. “That still leaves the problem of how the book actually got here. I mean, my father no longer has a flesh form, and though this doesn’t stop him from manhandling me, the fact remains that you can’t carry anything in Aedh form unless it’s in contact with your skin before you change shape.”
Azriel nodded. His fingers were still resting against the rat shifter’s forehead, keeping him still, keeping him compliant.
“Hieu did not entirely erase the event from his mind. There are remnants.” He hesitated. “I can show them to you,
if you like, but it will mean I need to go into your thoughts.”
“You do that anyway.”
“That is surface sifting. This would be deeper.”
I studied him for a moment, wondering at the wariness I saw in him. “Is it dangerous?”
“For you? No. But you are not happy with my frequent incursions as it is, and this might just strengthen the link that already exists.”
Well, wasn’t that just great! But it wasn’t like I had another choice, not if I wanted answers.
“You always have another choice,” he said softly.
I snorted. “You’re in my head one way or another, so let’s just get on with it.”
His gaze lingered on mine for a moment, then he nodded and tapped the rat shifter’s head twice. The rat shifter dropped to the ground and didn’t move. But he was breathing, so he wasn’t dead.
“Handy trick,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an effort to chase away the chill beginning to invade my bones. “Why didn’t you do that with the half-shifter in the locker room? Why use the ropes?”
“Because Razan are harder to render unconscious by this means. The rope achieved the same result, but with less effort.”
Azriel stepped over the shifter and stopped in front of me. The heat of him washed over my skin, filled with the vague scents of musk and man. When he’d first appeared in my life, he’d smelled of nothing. Holding flesh was obviously changing him in more ways than what he was saying.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his gaze steady on mine.
I licked suddenly dry lips, and yet I didn’t know what it was I feared. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me because he still needed me to complete his mission.
“I would never hurt you, mission or not.” He raised his hands, lightly cupping my cheeks. Electricity flared instantly, burning past my skin into my body, right down to my soul—until it felt like there were thousands of fireflies buzzing around inside me.
Then they exploded and, in the midst of the energy surge, the two separate entities that were our minds became one. In that state, what remained of the shifter’s memories and experiences were laid out before me like a picture book. The man who’d delivered the parcel was tall and powerfully built, but his face was blurry and he’d talked to the air. My father, undoubtedly, though the rat shifter had no sense of him. Then I felt the energy—an Aedh’s energy, the same sort of energy that had attacked me when the Raziq had held me captive—flowing through the shifter’s limbs, snatching away his memories, leaving huge swaths of nothingness rather than whatever conversation had followed the tall man’s arrival. I saw the tattoo on the stranger’s left shoulder as he departed—a dragon with two swords crossed across it. I saw a second tattoo—a ring of barbed wire—on his right shoulder.