Azriel didn’t reply, but then, he didn’t have to. Even Lucian couldn’t have missed the sudden jump in air temperature. I wondered briefly just how dark Valdis’s flames were, but didn’t turn around to check.
“Stop avoiding the question, Lucian. Why are you here?”
He snorted softly. “You were here to meet your father, were you not? I thought I might be of some use— especially since the Raziq were likely to turn up and cause problems.”
“But how the hell did you know we were even going to be here? It’s not like we’ve been anywhere near each other recently, so you couldn’t have read it in my thoughts.”
The Aedh generally could read human—or non-human—minds only when they were in close proximity to them. However, they formed a strong mental link with their partners during the act of sex, enabling them to hear their thoughts from a distance.
That bond was—according to Lucian—somewhat inoperative between the two of us. In fact, he’d claimed he could read my thoughts only when he was physically making love to me. Whether that was true or not I had no idea. I trusted him, but no matter what Azriel might think, it wasn’t blind trust. I knew he had secrets. Knew they were more than likely dangerous ones.
“If you do not wish anyone to know where you are,” he said, “then you had better inform your friends of this fy nds of tact.”
“Ilianna told you?” That surprised me. I would have expected a little more caution, even though she knew Lucian was involved in our quest for the keys.
“No. I was at your home waiting to see you, and the note from your father was lying in plain view on the table. If you didn’t want anyone to know where you were, you should have hidden the evidence.”
That was true enough, I guess. But I hadn’t thought it necessary to hide the note in the safety of our own home. Yet . . . something still niggled. And I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was disbelief or Azriel’s distrust flowing through the far reaches of my thoughts.
“Well, as it turns out, you’ve missed all the action.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“My father was less than impressed by the discovery that I have a tracker in my heart. He left the minute he sensed the Raziq’s approach.”
I stepped around him, then headed out of the station. He fell in step beside me. Azriel was a seething mass of annoyance that followed.
“And the Raziq? I venture they were not pleased by such an outcome.” His gaze raked me, and deep inside, desire stirred. Goddamn it, what was it about this man that called to me, even when I was annoyed with him? “Are they the reason you have the bruises?”
“No, they’re thanks to my father.” I stopped at the traffic lights and punched the button with a little more force than necessary. Who, exactly, I was more annoyed at I couldn’t say for sure—my father, the two of them, or myself for not being strong enough to tell Lucian to fuck off and leave me alone.
In fact, right now, I wished both of them—and the rest of the damn circus that had entered my life around the same time—would just go away and leave me in peace.
“Your father?” Surprise edged his tone. “Violence might be one of his mainstays, but it’s rarely unleashed when he still requires that person’s assistance.”
I gave him a long look. “And just how do you know that about my father?”
He snorted. “He’s a Raziq, is he not? They are rebels and outcasts for the precise reason that they do not conform to Aedh standards—not only in ideology, but in their very natures.”
He lies, Azriel said. There is more to his knowledge than what he claims.
Just as there’s more to your dislike than what you claim? I grouched back.
And yet I couldn’t dismiss his doubts, simply because I agreed with them.
“What you said sounded more like firsthand, personal knowledge than like a general statement about the Raziq.”
“I said I’d ask around about your father, and I have. Aedh numbers may place us on the verge of extinction, but that does not mean there are none in this city. Hieu is old even in Aedh terms, and not unknown.”
“All that sounds a little too convenieleatoo connt.”
“Sometimes the truth is.” He caught my hand and pulled me to an abrupt stop. “You know why I’m on this hunt. I want the Raziq.”
“I know—”
“No, you don’t,” he interrupted fiercely. “Because I don’t just want them dead. I want them burned from existence. I want them erased from the memory of the earth itself and their names never to be mentioned, even in the darkest whispers in the darkest of places.”
I stared at him, for the first time seeing the true extent of the anger and darkness in him. And I couldn’t help wondering just what he would do to get that revenge—and what he’d already done.
More than either of us currently suspects, Azriel commented.
Suspicion gains us nothing, I replied, despite the fact that my own thoughts were careening along the same line. And just because he wants the Raziq erased doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted. Hell, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind it one little bit if the Raziq no longer existed.
I returned my gaze to Lucian. “Last time we saw each other, you were intending to hunt down information about the tracker the Raziq placed in me. Is that why you were waiting at our place?”
The anger in him faded, but didn’t completely disappear. It remained in the edge in his voice, in the fierceness of his gaze.
It was a fierceness that had me trembling, because it wasn’t entirely anger. Lust burned in the deeper recesses of his eyes, and it was growing stronger by the moment.
I might be tired, I might have the mother of all headaches developing thanks to Amaya and the events of the day so far, but it seemed even that wasn’t enough to stop the growing hum of desire.
Although it wasn’t like I had many other options with which to satisfy my needs. With Azriel intent on remaining a monk, my only other possibilities were Jak—the man who not only betrayed the trust I’d placed in him by writing a newspaper article about my mother that basically called her a fraud who lied about her background, but who broke my heart in the process—or I could head down to Franklin’s, a private wolf club where I was a long-term member. And while I did have a regular partner there, his touch had lost some of its appeal since Lucian and Azriel had come into my life.
A smile teased Lucian’s lips. Despite his claim to the contrary, he was obviously catching at least some of my thoughts. I tugged my hand free from his and strode toward my car.
He was back beside me in a heartbeat. “In answer to your question, yes, I have been researching ways to mute the tracker, and yes, I was at your home to discuss one possibility.”
I opened the car door but didn’t climb in. “And what is the possibility?”
“A dark sorcerer, but not one who uses blood magic.”
“Any sorcerer who trades with darkness is not a wise choice,” Azriel said. Though his voice retained its usual even tone, his distaste and annoyance still shivered through me.
Which was odd. It was almost as if the chi connection had somehow deepened, allowing me greater access to the ebb and flow of his emotions. And from what I’d gathered, that shouldn’t have been the case.
Unless it was a sign that assimilation was a whole lot closer than we’d presumed.
No.
I glanced at him. If it’s not assimilation, then what is it?
He gave me the mental equivalent of a shrug and my annoyance surged. Some things, it seemed, would never change.
“We haven’t even had the chance to explore our options with the Brindle witches yet,” I said to Lucian.
And since they were some of the most powerful witches in the land, you’d have to think they should be able to come up with something.
“What you bear in your heart is unlike anything the Brindle witches have seen before,” Lucian commented. “It is Aedh in origin, and their magic far exceeds anything ever seen here on earth.”
“By that logic,” Azriel said, before I could even open my mouth, “a dark sorcerer will be of as little use as the Brindle witches.”
Lucian gave him a somewhat scathing glance. “Except that witches rely on natural magic, whereas a dark
