keep him around and keep an eye on him.
That is a very dangerous game to play with one such as him, Azriel commented.
Perhaps, but I just get the feeling that there’s more going on here than what we think.
Have I not been saying that? It was wryly said, even if there was a hint of rebuke embedded within the words.
You’ve said a lot of things, reaper, most of them nasty in regard to Lucian.
He deserves nothing less.
“I will not be kept apart from this quest, Risa.” Lucian’s voice was resolute. Dark. Almost as dark as the gleam in his eyes. “Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do, I will be there when you search for the keys.”
“If you get in our way, if you attempt to harm or spell or do anything else to me or my friends, I’ll kill you myself,” I said flatly.
And there went any idea of keeping a close eye on him.
“Warning heeded,” he said. The madness and hate flared again, so strong I could taste it. And while he appeared to have it under control, it nevertheless scared the hell out of me. I’d been sleeping with that darkness. It could have overtaken him—and me—at any time. “And now, heed this. Vengeance is mine, and the keys play a major part in that. I will not be deterred.”
“Then we both know where we stand.” I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder. “It was fun while it lasted, Lucian.”
With that, I turned and walked out.
And I didn’t stop walking until I was out of his building and well down the street.
That’s when the shakinhend I dig began.
I leaned back against the nearby shopfront and sank down, wrapping my arms around my knees as I sucked in great gulps of air. I felt like crying like a baby again, and all I wanted to do was scream, why, why, WHY? to the heavens.
Just this once, it would have been nice to catch a break, to have my suspicions proved wrong. Why the hell couldn’t fate play nice for a change? Just one break—surely to god that wasn’t too much to damn well ask?
“It would seem that it is,” Azriel said softly. He sank down in front of me and placed his hands on my thighs. His touch was like fire, and it chased away the shivers and lent me strength. “I am sorry that it has come to this.”
“No, you’re not,” I shot back, taking offense where none was intended. “You wanted Lucian out of my life, and now he is.”
“That is undeniably true,” he agreed. “But I do not wish to see you in such pain. Believe that, if nothing else.”
I did believe it. Just as I believed that the pain I was feeling now—a pain that came from betrayal rather than any emotional depth—was only just the beginning.
I rubbed my eyes wearily. “This has all become so totally fucked, Azriel. All I’ve ever wanted is an ordinary life, and that seems so far beyond me now I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.”
“There was never anything ordinary about you or your life, Risa, however much you might have convinced yourself otherwise.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. The restaurant was ordinary, falling in love with Jak and then getting my heart broken was ordinary, wanting kids and a family sometime in the future is very, very ordinary. That’s what I want back, and yet all of those things may now never be.” My gaze pinned his. Deep in those turbulent blue depths I saw the acknowledgment of my words. “And you know it.”
He wrapped his hands around mine and squeezed lightly. Longing shivered through me, but sadly, he was just another desire that was never meant to be.
“Nothing is ever written in stone, Risa. Fate is a fluid thing that changes with every decision and action. The future I see and the one you fear might never be.”
“And just what fate do you see?” I asked softly.
He hesitated. “Death. Many deaths.”
I closed my eyes again. There were some things better left unknown, that was for sure. And yet I couldn’t help asking, “Who?”
“That is uncertain and depends on our actions going forward.”
“Me? You?”
He half shrugged. “There are always casualties in a war, and you and I are front-line soldiers. The possibility is always there.”
I knew that. I’d always known that. But somehow, having him say it made it seem that much more inevitable.
“I don’t want to die, Azriel.”
“That is not aThp wn outcome that would please me, either.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Really? I mean, it would at least free you from my bothersome tendency to do what I want rather than listen to your good advice.”
Amusement briefly crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Is there not a saying about challenges being the spice of life?”
“Actually, it’s variety that’s the spice of life.”
“And you are nothing if not variable,” he agreed solemnly.
I laughed, then leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. “Thank you.”
His hands clenched briefly against mine. I had no doubt he was fighting the urge to reach for me and deepen the kiss, because I was fighting the very same battle. “For what?” he said, voice controlled and very, very even.
“For making me laugh when all I want to do is cry.”
A shadow fell over us both and my stomach twisted in sudden fear. I glanced up hurriedly, but it wasn’t an angry Lucian, as I’d half expected. The man was thin, rat-faced, and not a stranger. He was the shifter my father had used previously to courier packages and notes to me. We’d cornered him in the basement of an abandoned apartment building, but he hadn’t provided a great deal of information, thanks to the fact that my father had erased his memory. As had Azriel, once we’d finished questioning him.
“James Larson,” I said, my gaze dropping to the simple envelope he held in his hand. It was the same sort of paper that my father had used in his previous notes, and my stomach began to twist even harder. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”
He stopped and frowned. “How the hell do you know me?”
“You’ve delivered stuff to me before.”
“Huh,” he said. “Can’t remember it.”
Good. It meant Azriel had been successful and my father would not be aware that we’d found his courier.
“How did you know I’d be here?” Surely to god my father wasn’t tracking me that closely.
“Didn’t,” Larson said. “Not exactly. I was told to keep an eye on the building being renovated up the road, because you’d be there sooner or later. Missed you going in, but saw you exit.”
So my father knew about Lucian. Through reading my thoughts? Or had he been aware of Lucian way before I’d even entered the scene? It was an intriguing possibility, and one that raised all sorts of questions, especially when Lucian’s fierce need for revenge was factored in. Maybe it was a bit of a leap, but it was altogether possible that Lucian wasn’t after only the Raziq and the keys. Maybe he’d been using me to get to my father as well.
“How long have you been waiting for me to appear?”
“A few hours.” He shoved the letter at me. “This is yours.”
I took it rather warily, then glanced at Azriel. He rose in one swift movement and touched Larson lightly on the foreheaon widtd. The shifter stilled and his face went slack. Azriel closed his eyes and I watched the passersby, checking that no one was getting too interested in just what Azriel was doing.
Then he opened his eyes again. “Your father had his Razan deliver the note and, this time, he did not accompany him.”
“You’ve picked the Razan’s image from Larson’s brain?”
