He smiled, but it held little amusement. “The truth will do you no good, because my employer is beyond anyone’s reach. Even the Directorate’s.”


“She may be beyond the Directorate’s reach, but no one is beyond the reach of death.”


“Madeline Hunter is.”


He’d finally named her, but I felt no elation. I’d need a whole lot more than this confession alone to protect me from her. But it might go a ways toward convincing both her brother and the Directorate that there were extenuating circumstances if – god forbid – she and I ever came to blows and I managed to survive the encounter and she did not.


If you and Hunter came to blows, Azriel said, voice grim, she would not survive. And no one – not the Directorate, and certainly not her brother – would ever know of her death. Valdis would consume body and soul. There would be nothing left to find, and nothing left to move on.


Good. Even hell was too nice a place for the bitch. I once again returned my attention to the vampire. “Madeline Hunter? The woman in charge of the Directorate?”


“The same one.” He coughed. Bloody spittle lined his lips.


“Did she say why?”


“No. And I didn’t ask. I’m paid to do a job, end of story.”


It was the end, all right, for Jak and for him. Hunter wouldn’t let him live, and we both knew it. Amaya, I said, and reached out a hand.


She didn’t want to leave without a kill, and she hissed noisily, the sound rebounding through my brain. But she nevertheless withdrew, her hilt hitting my palm with a heavy thump. Letting me know she was unhappy by action as well as voice, I thought, amused.


I sheathed her, then said, “As much as I’d love to avenge Jak’s death with yours, I think the fate that awaits you is far worse, vampire. Enjoy what is left of your life.”


With that, Azriel took me in his arms and swept us out of there. It was only when I was home that I finally allowed myself to grieve for the man I’d once loved.


Hunter’s phone call came as no surprise, but it took all my willpower not to hit the Answer button and call her every name under the sun.


That would not only be a stupid move, but dangerous to those I loved.


“What?” is all I said. My voice was tight, and my hands clenched. It was a wonder I didn’t crack the phone, so tight was my grip.


“Did you get my message?” she all but purred. A cat enjoying playing with her mouse.


And the mouse had no option but to take it. At least for the moment.


“Yes.”


Her eyes gleamed with maliciousness. “And did the message get through?”


“Yes.” It came out as little more than a spit of angry air. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and added, “But why Jak? He wasn’t doing anyone any harm —”


“Which made him the perfect specimen for my little demonstration,” she cut in. “I would have chosen Rhoan, even though his death would have annoyed my brother greatly, but that would also take out Riley. I have no wish to come to blows with Quinn just yet.”


Meaning a confrontation with Quinn was in her cards sometime in the future?


More than likely, Azriel commented. Your uncle is not the type to sit back and let Hunter’s plans proceed unheeded. She would need him gone to openly make her move for domination of all.


The bitch wasn’t only certifiable, she was a glimpse of our future if we didn’t stop hell’s gates from being opened.


Because she sure as fuck had to be one of hell’s finest.


“But do not doubt,” she continued, in that same soft but deadly tone, “I will take out Rhoan, Riley, and even Quinn if you do not find me those keys.”


“I’m doing my best.”


Her expression was amused, but the specter of death shimmered in the depths of her eyes. “Your best is not enough, dear Risa. Try harder.”


And with that, she hung up. I swore and raised the phone to throw it at the nearest wall, only to have it plucked from my hands by Azriel.


“Taking your anger out on defenseless electronics is a waste of money and electronics,” he commented. “May I suggest this instead?”


He offered me a melted glob of metal – all that remained of one of the dining room chairs – and I couldn’t help laughing. As he’d no doubt intended. “Thanks, but it won’t shatter and therefore won’t ease the frustration in quite the same way.”


“Ah. Shame.” He placed both the phone and the globule on the glass table.


“Yeah.” I sighed. “How the hell am I ever going to get free of her, Azriel?”


“I do not know,” he said. “But we can always hope she personally threatens you. At that point, she is dead.”


“And you don’t think she’ll have found some way to counteract your presence?” After all, he had become a Mijai after coming to Earth to track down – and kill – the person responsible for the murder of several reapers, one of whom had been his friend.


“Possibly —”


“Then we don’t attack her,” I cut in. “Not unless we have an army behind us.”


“Harry Stanford has opened that possibility.”


Harry Stanford was the manager of a nightclub known as Hallowed Ground, and an archrival of Hunter’s. He was plotting to bring her down – for the good of the council, or so he claimed – and he’d already tried to enlist my help. I’d refused. It wasn’t as if I needed to get any more involved in vampire politics than I already was.


“No, he hasn’t, because he wants me to confront Hunter without his intervention. There was never any mention of a goddamn army.” I sighed. “I’m going for a shower.”


Though I doubted it would do much to wash the stain that was Hunter’s ever-tightening grip from my skin.


A half hour later – freshly showered and wearing a dress that didn’t remind me of Jak – I sat on the end of the bed and said, “So where the hell do we go from here?”


Azriel shrugged. He’d resumed what had become a normal position for him in my bedroom – when he wasn’t actually in my bed, that is – by my window, and the pale moonlight gave his warm skin a cool, silver sheen. “The one clear lead we have is Lauren Macintyre. Perhaps it is time we talked to her.”


“She’s not likely to give us anything —”


“She doesn’t have to,” he cut in. “It is key related, so I can force her to talk.”


“That’s presuming we can find her.” I pushed to my feet, walked over to the wardrobe, and slipped on a pair of red leather flats. Not my shoe of choice normally, but I had no idea how long I was going to be on my feet, so heels weren’t really practical. “Lauren seemed to have most of her possessions at her place on the Gold Coast, so why don’t we head there first?”


He nodded and held out a hand. I placed mine in his, and let him tug me close, smiling as I stared into the mismatched blue of his eyes. “Do you really have to hold me this close when you transport me? Or does it stem more from desire?”


Amusement touched his lips – lips I really wanted to be kissing right now. Only a huge amount of self-control, and the knowledge that time was ticking away for Mirri, stopped me from doing so. That, and the fact that one kiss was never going to be enough.


“I had to be with you, follow you, twenty-four hours a day, and yet every rule said I could not touch you. Not in the way I wanted.” His energy began to surge around us. “Holding you like this stopped me going crazy, without breaking the rules.”


Which he ended up breaking anyway. Not that I was complaining. “No wonder you were so against me becoming Aedh. It wasn’t concern for my strength at all.”


“It certainly was,” he refuted, voice offended but his smile growing. “It just wasn’t the entire reason.”


I laughed just as he swept us into energy. But the sound quickly died as we reappeared in Lauren Macintyre’s pristine white living room.


Because I found myself staring directly into a pair of bloodshot blue eyes.


And they didn’t belong to anything human.


Chapter 6


Demon, I thought, then found myself thrown out of the way. I hit the polished floorboards with a grunt, but rolled back to my feet and drew Amaya.


And none too soon.


A second creature came out of nowhere, oddly reminding me of a thick, hairy carpet with limbs, and barreled straight at me, its tusklike teeth bared. I swore, jumped sideways, and swung Amaya hard. The creature was big – both in height and in width – but it was surprisingly nimble, and the blade hit nothing but air.


The creature swung a paw the size of a shovel, its long fur streaming out behind it like banners. I ducked under the blow, twisted around, and sliced the back of its tendons. Blood spurted – thick, green, and stinking to high heaven – but it didn’t go down. Instead it jumped high, did a midair tumble, and came down behind me – a maneuver that took barely an instant. I stabbed backward with Amaya, then leapt away. But the creature’s thick fingers caught the hem of my dress and dragged me back toward it. I swore again and lashed at it over my head. Shadowed steel met hairy face, and split its skin from eye to chin. Flames leapt from Amaya’s sides and danced across the creature’s face, attacking its eyes and filling the air with the thick scent of burning flesh and hair. The creature howled and flicked me sideways, as if I were nothing more than a feather. I hit a kitchen cabinet with another grunt, but scrambled upright fast as the creature charged me again. Amaya’s flames had engulfed its entire head, so I had no idea whether it could see me or not, but I wasn’t about to take a chance. I called to the Aedh and swiftly changed, then moved around behind the creature. Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the arm that held Amaya and brought it back into being. Then I swung my sword, as hard as I could, at the creature’s neck.


Amaya hissed as she slid easily through flesh and bone alike, her sparks and the creature’s blood flying all around me. As her steel came free, the creature’s head rolled sideways from its neck and dropped to the floor with a wet splat. A second later its body followed. I re-formed, somehow keeping to my feet even as my head swam and bile rose up my throat, and swung around.