“Only if you promise me the same.”
“I’m not alone. I have Azriel.”
“Yeah, but you’ve also said Hunter desires his death. So, just humor an old man, and promise you’ll contact me if you decide to confront the bitch. Otherwise, you and me will have a serious argument.”
I half smiled. “Promise.”
Whether I kept it was another matter entirely.
He studied me long enough that I began to suspect he’d caught that last thought, even though he wasn’t telepathic. Eventually, though, he rose and pushed the chair back toward the desk.
“I probably wouldn’t be able to confront Hunter alone anyway. Riley has a way of sensing things like that, and she’d insist on accompanying me.”
And if she went with Rhoan, then Quinn undoubtedly would, too. But even then I doubted it would be enough to take down the likes of Hunter.
But it was at least a concession, and I was lucky to get that much. I stepped forward and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” I said. “And I promise, I’ll be careful.”
“You’d better,” he all but growled, then left.
The tension that had been riding me since his phone call didn’t really ease much though. He was about to talk to Jack, and it was anyone’s guess where Jack fell in the scheme of things. Azriel might insist Jack wouldn’t condone what Hunter was doing, but she was his sister. In the end, blood might be stronger than loyalty to the Directorate.
“What now?” Azriel said.
I thrust a hand through my hair and sighed. “I’d better make an appearance downstairs, just to see how things have been going in our absence.”
He nodded. “Get yourself something to eat while you’re at it.”
I half smiled. “You’re nagging again.”
“Someone has to nag, otherwise you’d be skin and bone.” He caught my hand and tugged me into his embrace. “Besides, you carry my son. It is important you keep your strength up.”
Hurt flicked through me, but I forced a smile. “I’m not about to do anything that would endanger his life.”
“But you all too readily endanger your own, and one cannot be without the other.”
Tears prickled my eyes. Which was stupid, because his concern was perfectly natural. My health could adversely affect the health of our child, and there was no denying I really hadn’t been taking the best care of myself lately, what with the drinking and the lack of eating. And I did know that he cared for me. Trouble was, caring wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
I pulled out of his embrace and headed for the door, adding over my shoulder, “I won’t be long.”
“Risa —”
I didn’t stop, just said over my shoulder, “I’m fine, Azriel. Don’t worry about it.”
“If you were fine, you would not be close to tears. We need —”
“I’m pregnant, and pregnant women tend to get irrational,” I cut in. “You’ll probably have seen a whole flood of tears by the time this child is born.”
And with that, I retreated down the stairs. Not that running would do much good when the man I was running from could pop into existence anywhere he chose to. He didn’t, though. Maybe he knew that there was nothing he could say to ease the irrationality. Nothing but one simple four-letter word; a word that probably wasn’t even in reaper language.
I paused on the bottom step, searching the room for Margie. She was easy enough to find – she was built like an Amazon and towered over most of the patrons by a good six inches. She was clearing a table near the front door, so I made my way through the crowd toward her.
“Good to see we’re so busy,” I said, as I neared.She glanced up, and her bright smile flashed. “Yeah. Been meaning to ask if I could get another waiter or two. It’s been insane these last couple of days.”
“Go ahead. I’m not sure when Ilianna or I are going to be back – things are hectic elsewhere at the moment.”
She nodded, obviously unfazed by our absence. Which was one of the reasons we’d singled her out to become our manager. That and the fact she’d passed her business course with honors. “Excellent. I’ll get the ad in the paper tomorrow. Oh, and the accountant left a note for you. It’s sitting under the till.”
“Thanks. Any other problems I need to know about?”
“Jacques wants to change the menu again, because he’s bored cooking the same things, but other than that, no.”
I smiled. Jacques was our sous-chef, although with what Tao was currently going through, Jacques had all but become our head chef. He was damn good, too – which is why we paid him so well and, subsequently, why he remained, even though he hated cooking burgers. Fancy burgers, but burgers all the same. “Tell him he can change one item to anything he desires, but don’t expect a rush of orders. Ninety percent of our clientele are werewolves, and they like their burgers.”
She smiled. “I told him that. He doesn’t care.”
I chuckled softly, and headed over to the till to grab the note. Need to talk to you ASAP about a couple of problems, Mike’s bold scrawl read. How about we do so over dinner?
I frowned at the note, trying to decipher the intent behind the invitation. Mike and I had always had an easygoing relationship – mainly because he’d been dating my mom, even if their relationship had never been confirmed or even acknowledged until after her death. I’d never been entirely sure why she’d wanted it kept secret, but had always figured it had something to do with the fact it would probably be considered unethical for Mike to be in a relationship with one of his clients.
What I didn’t understand was why in the hell he’d want to meet me for dinner, when up until now we’d only ever talked at his office or mine.
Or was this merely an extension of his need to keep an eye on me for my mother’s sake? It probably was, but it nevertheless made me uneasy.
Of course, just about everything was making me uneasy these days.
I glanced at my watch. I couldn’t ring him now – Mike had said in the past he was an early riser and liked getting into the office closer to eight rather than nine, but given that it was barely five a.m., I doubted even he’d be up. I folded the note and shoved it in my pocket as I headed into the kitchen. I’d deal with Mike later. Right now, I needed to grab something to eat, before my reaper started hassling me again. Besides, who knew when I’d get another chance – especially given Mirri had fewer than twenty-four hours left before the rope around her neck began to tighten.
Tao still hadn’t arrived home by the time we got back there, and the worry that sat like a weight in the back of my mind ratcheted up another notch. As much as I kept telling myself he’d be okay, that we’d get him through this, the longer he remained unfound – the longer the fire elemental remained in control of his body – the harder it would be for us to pull Tao’s spirit back. That’s presuming the fire spirit was in control, and Tao hadn’t just decided to follow in my recent footsteps, and drink himself into oblivion.
“If he was drunk,” Azriel said softly, “he could be found. But his essence has disappeared, which can only mean the elemental has overtaken him again.”
“I know that,” I snapped, then sighed and scrubbed a hand across my eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be taking my frustration and anger out on you.”
He shrugged. “Is it not better to release such emotion than to restrain it?”
“Depends who’s at the end of the release.” If it was Hunter, maybe. She deserved my anger, and a whole lot more. Azriel didn’t.
“I have broad enough shoulders. I can take it.”
“And it’s just as well, given the grief I’ve been dumping on you lately.” I looked around the room, not really seeing the mess, until my gaze fell on an odd-shaped plastic globule sitting near the remains of the dining table. The computer. And while we’d had everything backed up, spotting that globule oddly reminded me of the cuff link I’d found at Lauren’s place on the Gold Coast. I’d shoved it in my purse and had promptly forgotten about it, which was stupid, given that finding out who’d made the thing might just provide our next step forward.
I got my phone and Googled “maker’s marks using the letters RJ.” Over a dozen different links immediately popped up, so I headed into the bedroom, plopped down on the bed, and started going through them. After trawling through nine different sites and coming up empty, I hit a U.S.-based site that listed trademarks and contact details for artists and metalsmiths, both in the U.S. and overseas. And that’s where I hit gold – or silver, given most of the smiths listed on the site appeared to deal more in that than gold. The maker was one Rubin Johnson, originally from Santa Fe, but now living and working in Sydney, Australia. It listed a shop address rather than a home one, so I checked the yellow pages and confirmed the address was still current. A search for his home address didn’t reveal anything. Maybe his listing was private.
“Do you wish to talk to him?” Azriel asked.
I glanced at my watch. “Yes, but not right now. It’s barely six. He’s not likely to be there until nine.”
“Which leaves us with three hours to fill. Unless, of course, you have something else you plan to do.”
I half smiled. “I know what I’d love to do, but I’m thinking you might veto the suggestion.”
“You’d be thinking right.” His expression was severe but amusement crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. “I would love nothing more than to be with you physically, but we cannot afford the distraction given the Raziq, your father, and Hunter all want to assure your allegiance is to them alone.”
“Yeah, but none of them can get into our home. Not with my father’s wards in place.”
“The wards will not stop Ania, and your father is as capable of enforcing his will on them as the Raziq. And Hunter will have many contract killers who are not vampires she could call on.”