Amaya, release him.
No; want.
Do it, I said. Now!
She hissed her displeasure, but her flames unfurled from Tao’s waist and dropped to the ground, slinking back to her blade with some reluctance.
As the remaining flames flickered and died, Tao opened his eyes and blinked. Then awareness surged, and horror spread across his pale, thin face.
“Oh god, Ris,” he said, voice hoarse and raw. “What have I done?”
I quickly sheathed Amaya and tried not to think about the agony radiating from my left hand—a hard thing to do given it was so bad, all I wanted to do was throw up. “Nothing that can’t be—”
I cut the rest of the sentence off as he collapsed, and I lunged forward to catch him. Azriel got there before me. He slung Tao like a sack over his shoulder, then swung around to face me.
“Your hand—”
“I can heal it when I change to Aedh form,” I said, barely resisting the urge to cradle my hand and weep like hell. “Let’s just get Tao home and worry about me later.”
Azriel didn’t look at all happy, but he merely nodded and disappeared from sight. I took a deep breath and glanced at my hand. Bad mistake. All I saw was a raw and swollen mess, and the pain—which had been bad enough up until that point—became overwhelming. A chill swept me, I began to shake, and my legs went from underneath me. But even as I hit the ground, my stomach rose, and I threw up.
Then Azriel was there, holding me, supporting me. The heat of his presence fanned through my body; a warmth and strength chased the weakness from my flesh and snatched the pain from my burned and blistered hand.
Eventually, I pulled away and glanced down. Though it was still red and tender, my hand was no longer blistered or weeping, and I could flex my fingers without pain. My gaze rose to Azriel’s. “Thank you for healing me.”
“I’m glad that I could.” He brushed the sweaty strands of hair from my eyes, but despite the tenderness of his touch, there was anger in his expression. “You should not have endangered yourself that way, Risa. It could have ended very differently.”
“But it didn’t.” I hesitated. “Where did you take him?”
“Home, as you wanted. I brought Ilianna in to tend to him.” He placed a hand under my elbow and gently pulled me upright. “And we should go. The police are coming.”
I glanced past him and saw the approaching red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles. “At least no one got hurt.”
“No one but you,” he commented, as he wrapped his arm around my waist and swept us from flesh to energy form. He didn’t immediately release me when we reappeared in the living room, simply continued to hold me close.
My gaze rose to his again, and there was an intensity, a ferocity, that had my heart doing an odd sort of dance. “What?” I said, almost breathlessly.
“Do not ever ask me to do something like that again,” he said. “Because I will not.”
Annoyance flared. I tried to step back, but his grip tightened around my waist, pressing me closer. “Damn it, Azriel. He’s my friend—”
“And I mean nothing to you?” he cut in, his voice flat and even despite the fierceness that radiated from every inch of his being.
“You know that’s—”
“What I know,” he cut in again, “is that the link between us has evolved into something far stronger than a mere exchange of thoughts. I will not feel your agony like that again and not do anything about it.”
My breath caught somewhere in my throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”
“And wouldn’t have cared if you had.” His voice was grim. “I’m just giving you warning never to ask that of me again.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay. But I also meant what I—”
“Oh, I am under no illusions where I stand when it come to your friends.”
The edge of bitterness in his voice stung deep inside. “That’s not fair, Azriel.”
“And yet it is nevertheless true.” He released me and stepped back. “Go tend to Tao.”
“Azriel—”
He cut me off with a short, sharp motion. “You have what you wanted, Risa.”
And with that, he disappeared, leaving me standing there feeling angry, confused, and oddly hurt.
“Risa?” Ilianna said.
I forced a smile and turned around. “How’s Tao?”
“Unconscious.” She hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t be better. Is Tao going to be all right?”
“I don’t know.” Her expression was concerned. “What’s going on between you and Azriel?”
“Nothing.” And everything. “Is there anything I can do to help Tao?”
“The best thing you can do is get some sleep. You look like shit.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously, I want you to get some rest. The last thing I need is to be looking after two of you. Especially given what a grouchy and unpleasant patient you can be.”
I snorted softly. “I love you, too. Give me a yell if you need anything or he wakes, won’t you?”
“I will.”
I turned and headed for my bedroom.
“Ris?”
I paused and looked over my shoulder. “What?”
She hesitated. “Remember that Azriel isn’t human. You can’t expect him to react the way any human—or non-human, for that matter—would.”
“I don’t expect anything of him, Ilianna.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
I snorted. “He’s here for one reason only—the keys. He needs to secure them for his side, and he needs me to do it. No matter what I may or may not feel for him, that’s the one truth that can never be ignored.”
“But what if it’s no longer the only truth?”
“It’s the only truth that matters. In the end, he has his world, and I have mine, and as the saying goes, never the twain shall meet.”
“Maybe you need to trust fate a little bit more. Or maybe you just need to enjoy what you currently have and not worry about the future.”
How could I not worry about the future when the reality was I might not have one? “Fate is the one that got us into this mess, Ilianna. I’m not trusting her to get us out of it.” I waved a hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, I went to bed and—surprisingly, given how much sleep I’d already had that day—slept.
A death march tone woke me. I groaned and rolled over onto my back, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and cursing the idiot on the phone for waking me. Then it twigged that the idiot was Hunter, and I lunged to answer it. But I hit the VOICE ONLY button—I had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate learning that I was still in bed.
“I haven’t received the crime-scene report yet,” I said, glancing at the clock. It was nine in the morning—no wonder my stomach was grumbling. What little I’d eaten yesterday, I’d thrown up last night. “So I really haven’t got much more to report than what I’ve already said.”
“I have no intention of discussing either your report or the Directorate’s,” she replied, voice snappish. Definitely not in a happy mood this morning.
But then, was she ever?
“So you’re ringing me because . . . ?”
“Because another card was found in the pocket of the second victim—this one for the Blue Angels.”
Which Rhoan would have no doubt already checked out. And I couldn’t see the point in me doubling his work, especially given if he had found anything worthwhile, it would have been in his report. And she, subsequently, would now be hunting down the bitch behind the kills. All of which I wanted to say, but wisely refrained. “Is there any connection between the two clubs?”
“There is, actually. They both hired last-minute replacements from the same booking agency.”
“I gather the Directorate has talked to the agency involved?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “And so have I.”
Poor them. “And . . . ?”
“I told the agency owner to inform me of all last-minute requests for musicians,” she snapped. “And he just did.”
Hence the reason for the call. Wonderful. I scrubbed a hand across my eyes and flicked the blankets off me. “I’m guessing you’re not sending the Directorate to check her out.”
“Rhoan hasn’t your reaper, nor your ability to sense dark spirits.”
The Directorate witches had the latter, if not the former. But again, I held the comment back. She didn’t want the Directorate to find this killer—she wanted me to, so that she could then get her revenge. And what Hunter wanted, Hunter usually got.
Unfortunately.
I walked into the bathroom. Having a pee while talking on the phone wasn’t something I usually did, but it was oddly appropriate when it came to Hunter—if only because I wished I could so easily flush her from my life.
“So where is the stand-in going to be playing tonight?”
“She’ll be at the Hallowed Ground from midday today.”
Which at least explained why Hunter wasn’t going to interview the woman herself. She might be an extremely old vampire—and therefore able to stand far more sunshine than most—but the lunchtime hours were still as deadly to her as sunlight was to any of them. “Isn’t it a little unusual for nightclubs to be open during the day?”
“Hallowed Ground has been around for a long time.” She hesitated. “It is a haunt for those who might otherwise be alone during daylight restrictions.”
Dread filled me. “Does that mean it’s another blood whore club?” And if it was, why were they bothering to provide musical entertainment? It wasn’t like the addicted vampires would care about anything other than getting their next fix.
“No,” she said, voice cool but still holding an edge that sent chills down my spine. “Although it wouldn’t matter if it was. You would still be going.”