Azriel could react. “He’s far more cunning than you give him credit for.”
Red flames flickered down Valdis’s sides. I wondered if it was an indicator of the sword’s annoyance or her master’s.
“It is also possible that you warned him.”
The voice was cool, without inflection or emotion, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was one of the Raziq who’d torn me apart to place the tracker in my heart.
“I didn’t warn him, trust me on that. I want as little to do with him as I do with you.”
“That, at least, is true.” The energy in the air sharpened. “Do not release your weapon, Mijai. There are too many of us here, and your numbers are few enough.”
“Our numbers are irrelevant.” Though his voice was as calm and cool as the Raziq’s, his stance had shifted imperceptibly. He was readying for action. “What matters is my ability tofiry abili counter your presence, and that is not in question.”
The fierceness in the air suddenly sharpened, and a thick sense of impending doom swamped me. If Azriel attacked, he’d die. I was as sure of that as I was of the moon rising tonight. There was no way known that I was about to let that happen.
I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around his arm. It felt like I was gripping stone.
The force of Valdis’s flames ramped up, but Azriel didn’t react. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. The force of it just about blew my brain circuits.
“Your presence here does nothing to encourage my father to come back,” I said, trying to keep calm against the twin storms buffeting me. “If you want him, you had better leave.”
“He now knows about the tracker. The point of it is useless.”
My mouth went suddenly dry. If the tracker was useless, did that mean I was as well? I swallowed heavily, and somehow said, “And here I was thinking the Aedh were clever enough to work out a way around that.”
He obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. “That is without question. But your father is also Aedh— he will find a means to mute the transmitter.”
No doubt. “Then you’ll just have to work faster than him, won’t you?”
“Or develop a different way of drawing him to you.” He paused. “We will be in contact, Risa Jones.”
The threat hung in the air as the energy of their presence began to dissipate. Azriel wrenched his arm from my grip, then drew Valdis back and released her in one violent movement. The sword sang through the air, the sound fierce, joyous. She hit the fading remnants of the shimmer and there was a short, sharp explosion, accompanied by a shrill scream. Then there was no energy, no Raziq.
Only fury.
Valdis looped around and returned to her master. Azriel caught her one-handed, then swung to face me. His expression was as angry as I’d ever seen it.
“Do not ever do that again.” Though his voice was flat, every inch of him seemed to vibrate. Valdis’s steel wasn’t even visible, so dark were her flames.
And Amaya responded, her hissing fierce enough inside my head to make my eyes water. She was ready to protect, whether it be against foe or friend.
“Azriel—”
“I am here to protect you, not the other way around.”
“You would have died.” I sheathed Amaya—although it didn’t shut her up—and rubbed my arms. Not that it did much against the force still assaulting me or the chill that the mere thought of losing him sent through me.
“There is always the Aedh,” he practically spat. “You trust him so much, after all.”
Anger surged. Anger and hurt. “Damn you, Azriel, that was totally uncalled-for!”
I shoued Std'>Ildered past him, blinking back ridiculous tears as I stepped over the dying embers of our swords’ fire. Damn it, far worse had been said to me over the years, so why would I let a comment like that get past the armor?
Because, my inner voice whispered, you care more than you should. More than is wise.
And he didn’t. Because he was energy rather than flesh and didn’t do emotions the same way the rest of us did. I knew that. Just as I knew his mission would always come first, no matter what. But the knowledge didn’t help ease the pain of that situation or this one.
I made it five steps past the flames before he caught my hand and stopped me.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should not have said that.”
“No,” I answered, not turning around and still blinking furiously.
He hesitated. “I did not mean to hurt you.”
My smile held little humor. “If you didn’t intend to hurt, you shouldn’t have said the words.”
“I agree. Risa, please, look at me.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep, somewhat shuddering breath, then obeyed.
“I am sorry.” He wiped a lone tear from my cheek with his thumb. “It will not happen again.”
My gaze scanned his, but I could see nothing more than regret there. Whatever else he might be feeling or thinking, he was controlling it tightly. I sighed and rested my forehead against his shoulder.
“I’m afraid I can’t offer the same. If I think you’re going to die, Azriel, I’ll do what it takes to protect you. I can’t do anything else. I need you.”
And not just for protection.
He brushed a kiss across the top of my head. Warmth tingled through me, filling the spaces that had been so recently shivering under the force of his fury. “If dying is my fate, then so be it. I am here to do a job, Risa, and neither of us should forget that.”
“You can’t do that job if you’re dead.”
“As I have said, if death is my fate, then so be it. You are the important one in this equation. You and the keys.”
“And I’m only important because I’m the only way to those keys.” I snorted softly. “You know, if I did die, the world would be better off. No one would be able to find the keys or open hell’s portals.”
“If you think your father or the Raziq would stop searching simply because you were dead, you are sorely mistaken.” Azriel’s voice held a sharp edge. “Death cures nothing, Risa.”
Maybe. Maybe not. I pulled away from the comfort of his touch. “Let’s go back to the car. I need to go home.”
He released my hand and I walked out the door—only to run nose-first into an all-too-familiar chest.
“Speak of the devil and he ar' fil and rives,” Azriel muttered.
I shot him a warning glance, then stepped back. If ever there was a man who was perfectly formed in every imaginable way, Lucian was it. He was truly beautiful to look at, and yet there was nothing effeminate about his looks or his presence. He was tall, towering over me by a good six inches, and his build was that of a warrior— muscular and strong.
He had the facial features of an angel, and in the past—before his golden wings had been torn off—he probably would have been mistaken for one. Because even though reapers were the true soul guides, it was the Aedh who were the source of the angel seen in so many myths. And like many of those mythical angels, he had golden hair and eyes that were the most glorious shade of jade, but his were so full of power that it was almost impossible to meet them without flinching.
Normally, my heart rate would have leapt into overdrive at the mere sight of him, but given my recent brushes with both my father and the Raziq, I couldn’t muster anything more than annoyance—though it was edged with a bit of suspicion.
“What are you doing here, Lucian?”
His eyebrows rose. “We haven’t seen each other for almost a week, and this is the greeting I get?”
“It is when you suddenly appear where you’re not supposed to be.”
“Last time I looked, this was a public train station, not a private one.” His expression was amused, despite the slight edge in his voice.
“You know what I meant.”
“I do.” His gaze ran past me. “So nice to see you again, reaper. And I can see by the bruises around Risa’s lovely neck that you’ve been doing an outstanding job of protecting her again.”
