“Then do not worry about what you do not know. We are immortal. The only weapon that can kill us is a blade forged with magic, and even I don’t know where one might be. We are alone in this world, and you have nothing to fear.” His mouth hovered close to mine. “Ask me no more.”
Azriel’s fingers ventured from my breast, down my stomach, and further still. He cupped my sex in his palm, working his fingers against my slick flesh. Questions seemed trite when all I could think about was resuming our erotic play. I had an eternity to get my answers. Right now, I only wanted him.
Chapter 7
Azriel told me once that when you live forever, a week can pass in the blink of an eye. Fifteen years did just that. The world changed around us, and I welcomed it just as I’d embraced my transformation from human to Shaede so many years ago. We lived in exciting times. Tumultuous times. And there was much to keep the ambitious occupied.
“You know, you could make good money as a rum runner.” I fiddled with the fringe on my knee-length dress rather than meet Azriel’s gaze.
When I finally looked up, he gave me a sardonic smile. Fifteen years, and I still felt butterflies swirl in my stomach as if we’d only just met. “I don’t care about the money.” He drained the last of his bourbon and set the glass down on the table. “Besides, where’s the challenge in that? Half of the police force is paid off, and the politicians . . . ? Volstead Act or not, they’ve all got cases of liquor in their basements. Prohibition is a scam. Any idiot could run booze down from Canada.”
I knew how Azriel spent his free time. He was right, we didn’t need the money. Azriel had enough to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives. No, transporting illegal alcohol across the Washington border from Canada just didn’t have the thrill that killing did. He’d become an assassin. And he lived for that excitement. Azriel spent his nights killing for money, and I waited at home like an obedient wife. Though in truth, I was neither. I craved excitement, as well. I needed something to fill the endless days that spread out before me like the rolling waves of the ocean.
“Does what I do offend your moral sensibilities, my love?”
I looked at the people around us. Men and women whose lives would pass in moments compared to my own eternal existence. “No.” And that was the truth. I’d become something apart from humanity. Besides, I knew what the dregs of their kind were capable of. There were a good many of them who deserved to die.
Azriel pulled the cork from the bottle of bourbon and refilled his glass. “Then what is it?”
I sipped my martini and squared my shoulders before I answered him. “I want to go with you the next time you take a job.” He leaned back in his chair and laughed, nice and loud. I narrowed my eyes, not pleased that he considered my request humorous. “Do you think this is a joke?”
“Oh, not at all, my love.” Azriel took my hand in his and brought my palm to his lips. “On the contrary, I find the idea quite . . . appealing.”
The seductive tone of Azriel’s voice caused my stomach to tie itself into tiny knots, and I smiled. I felt a sense of power at the way I could arouse him so easily. And he’d demonstrated, time and again, that he could do the same to me.
“Tomorrow night,” he said, rounding the table and pulling me out of my chair. The layers of red fringe on my dressed danced and shimmied with my every move, and Azriel spun me around like a ballerina before tucking my hand into the crook of his arm. “How I love the current fashions,” he mused. “It seems that you wear less and less with each passing year.” He placed a kiss at the juncture where my collarbone met my shoulder. “The more exposed flesh, the better.”
We drew many admiring stares as we walked out of the speakeasy. Women devoured Azriel in a glance, always looking as though they were undressing him with their eyes. Most people treated him as if he were royalty. A sheik. Or an exotic prince passing the time in a foreign country. He would never correct anyone’s misassumption. He carried himself with a certain regality and arrogance that fueled conjecture wherever we went. And he loved the attention.
* * *
“Gods,” Azriel said from the doorway. “You look . . .”
I turned in a circle to give him the full view of my ensemble. “Awful?”
“I was going to say, ‘You look good enough to eat.’”
I laughed, finding his attraction utterly ridiculous. I straightened my necktie and dusted some imaginary lint from the arm of my suit. Azriel bought me the men’s clothing earlier in the day, saying it would be too conspicuous to go out with him otherwise. I flung a long overcoat across my shoulders and set the fedora at a jaunty angle on my head. I couldn’t help but giggle when he came at me with a hungry growl and pulled me against his chest.
“Let’s stay in,” he said against my skin as he planted tiny kisses below my ear. “I’ll undress you slowly.” Azriel reached inside the suit coat and drew out the tie, rubbing the silky fabric between his thumb and fingers. “I bet I can find a good use for this as well.”
I imagined myself bound by the silk tie at the wrists and secured to the iron posts of our bed. Naked and at his mercy. The image brought a sinful smile to my face, and I moved to shuck the heavy wool coat. “You can undress me any way you like, as long as I get to keep the hat on.”
Azriel groaned and seized my mouth in a wanton kiss. “I’ve taught you too well,” he said, pulling away. “You’re not just a sinful woman. You, my love, are a temptress.”
He’d vowed to me when we’d first arrived in Seattle that he’d make a sinful woman out of me. If being sinful meant that I would spend an eternity’s worth of erotic nights with him, then I had no intention of being repentant anytime soon.
Azriel plucked the fedora from my head and wound my long hair into a knot at the top of my head. He replaced the hat and pulled it low over my brow. “If anyone gets a good look at you, my plans will be undone. Only a fool would mistake you for a man.” He laughed and planted a quick kiss to my lips. “Let’s go.”
I had no idea what to expect, and as usual, Azriel kept all of the pertinent information to himself. Under the cover of darkness, we traveled as our shadow-selves. We sped through the city, gliding unseen toward the city proper. Our pace slowed as we approached a run-down building, and as Azriel regained his corporeal form, I followed suit. The tails of the overcoat billowed out behind me and I couldn’t help but admire the way they fanned out in a gust of wind. Heavy cloud cover dashed my hopes of seeing the moonlight, and I knew that rain would soon follow. The rain seemed constant here. But Azriel didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred the stormy weather to sunny days.
“Tell me, Azriel. Who do you plan to kill?”
He gave me a rueful smile and produced a dagger from his waistband at his back. He twirled it between his fingers in a dazzling flash of silver. “My former employer,” he said.
I raised a curious brow. “Who paid you to do this?”
The rueful smile transformed into a mischievous grin. “My new employer.”
“So much for loyalty,” I muttered.
“I’m above loyalty to humans,” he said. “If you want something to be loyal to, my love, be loyal to the paper in your hand. A job is only as good as the money behind it. The higher the price, the more dangerous the job. The more dangerous the job . . .” he tossed the dagger in the air and caught it. “The more exhilarating the experience will be.”
“And your old employer?” I ventured. “Who might he be?”
Azriel shrugged. “His identity is inconsequential.”
“What about the new employer?”
“Armenian mob. Vasili Ergorov. He tried to make a name for himself on the East Coast. Chicago, and then New York. But the bigger fish kicked him out of their ponds. When he didn’t have any better luck in Atlantic City, he moved out here. Now the little fishie swims in a pond perfect for his size.”
Just because Seattle wasn’t Chicago or New York did not mean we didn’t see our fair share of organized crime. Prohibition existed here just as it did on the eastern seaboard. We had the same corruption, crooked politicians, and opportunists. But I supposed that, like us, this Vasili Ergorov had come to Seattle with the same
