“Enabling them to capture him.” His voice was grim. “This is not good news for those of us wanting to keep the keys out of their hands.”
“Exactly.” Then I frowned and added, “‘Those of us’? That’s an odd way of putting it, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Are you sure that’s what they’ve done?”
“That’s what they said they’ve done. And they definitely pulled me apart.”
“The bruises are evidence enough of that.” He leaned forward and placed a flat hand against my chest. It wasn’t a sexual touch by any means, but my pulse still reacted to the warm press of his fingers. After a moment, he swore and sat back. “The dark energy of the tracer definitely beats within you.”
I wasn’t surprised, but my stomach still sank. I guess a tiny, foolish part of me had hoped the Raziq had been lying. Still, I couldn’t help asking, “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I am not unfamiliar with such things. I’ve seen their use before.”
“Where?”
“It was a long time ago, and doesn’t matter now.”
In other words, mind your own business. He and Azriel were more alike than they thought. “They said it cannot be removed.”
His expression was grim. “It can’t. Not unless you die.”
Having Lucian confirm that particular fact made me feel sick. I put the knife and fork down and pushed the dinner plate away. “Which means the minute my father appears, they’ll grab us both.”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He thrust to his feet and began to pace, every movement reeking of frustration. “Which does not mean it cannot be stopped.”
“The only way it can be stopped,” Azriel said, appearing in the room in a sudden rush of heat and anger, “is via the use of dark magic. And that is never a wise choice.”
Lucian swung around, his expression like thunder. The dislike that emanated off the pair of them made me feel like I was a red cape between two bulls.
“Lots of unwise choices have been made over the course of the last few weeks,” Lucian spat out. “But we do what we must to reach the endgame, don’t we, reaper?”
“Dark magic may be a path you choose to walk, Aedh, but it is not ours.”
Lucian snorted and glanced at me. “If you believe he’s not willing to do whatever it takes to get what he wants—and remember, what he wants is the same as what the Raziq want—then you are a fool.”
“Actually,” I said, rubbing my aching head wearily and wishing they’d both just leave me alone, “what I believe is that neither of you is telling me the entire truth when it comes to what you really want. That said, why do you both believe dark magic can null this thing inside me? Why not regular magic?”
“Because the tracker isn’t of this time or place,” Lucian said. “And regular magic would not combat it. Only dark magic has that chance.”
I frowned. “But white magic is strong enough to combat dark, so why wouldn’t it work against this?”
“Because what lies inside you is very different from the magic of this world,” Azriel said. He stood on the other side of the table, his arms crossed and his face unreadable. But Valdis flickered with blue-black energy and the air around him seemed to shimmer with heat. “But that does not mean we should not explore the option.”
Lucian snorted. “My wings may be clipped, reaper, but I am still Aedh. Believe me when I say that the magic of this world will not be strong enough to counter what lies within her.”
“Which does not negate the fact that we should at least try it first,” Azriel snapped. “Dark magic has a way of staining its users.”
“Does that mean this thing inside me is dangerous?” I asked hesitantly.
Azriel glanced at me. “I do not know.” Silently, he added, Has Amaya reacted to it?
I frowned. She seems no worse now when it comes to background chatter than she was before the tracer was attached.
If the tracer in your body does anything more than inform the Raziq of your father’s presence, she will react to it. Until she does, you are probably safe.
It was the “probably” bit of that sentence that was worrying. I glanced at Lucian again. “If anyone can counter this tracer, it’ll be the witches at the Brindle.”
Lucian snorted and crossed his arms. “I do not have your faith in their teachings or their power.”
“Why? The Brindle may not, in itself, be old, but it still contains eons of witch history and teachings. If there is any way to combat this tracer, then it’ll be found there.”
“Perhaps.”
My annoyance flared brighter. “Why are you so damn sure that dark magic is the only way to go? You’re Aedh, not Raziq. What experience have you even had with dark magics?”
His smile was remote and cold. It was a reminder that underneath the “humanized” outer layer, a true Aedh still lay within. “How do you think the keys were made? How do you think the tracer was made? It wasn’t the clean, bright power of the fields that was used, but rather the energy that lies between the dark portal itself and blood. Aedh blood.”
My father had told me the keys had been made with blood, but for some reason I hadn’t made the connection to that and blood magic—and that’s what we were talking about here.
I rubbed my temples again and said, “How do you know so much about the creation of the keys, Lucian? And how the hell would you know they’re made with Aedh blood?”
He snorted. “I was there when we found the first one, remember? I felt their darkness within it.”
“So if you could feel it, why weren’t you able to find the key?” I was the one who’d done that, not him.
“Your father disguised the keys. It was only when we were close enough to touch the thing that I could feel the dark energy within it.”
He lies, came Azriel’s soft thought.
Why would he lie about something like that? I asked. Hell, if he’d wanted the key himself, he could have taken it anytime during the ensuing attack. It wasn’t like either of us could have actually stopped him—we were too busy trying to survive. Or at least, I was. I hadn’t even realized someone else was there—someone other than the creatures who’d attacked us—until it was too late and the key had been taken.
You trust him too much, Risa.
And you distrust him too much. I glanced at Lucian. “Even if the Brindle witches couldn’t help us, I’m not sure it’d be wise to tempt any sort of blood magic.”
“Dark magic isn’t always blood magic,” Lucian replied. “It may be the strongest form of black magic, but it often also depends on the strength of the practitioner.”
“It’s a rather moot point, given that none of us is, or knows, a dark practitioner,” I said wearily.
And Ilianna would kill me if she discovered I was even discussing the option.
“Remember, I have lived on this earth a very long time,” Lucian said. “I may not know or practice dark magic, but I do know how such practitioners might be found. It is not as hard as the witches of this world think.”
I pushed to my feet and walked to the coffeepot. Lucian didn’t move out of the way, forcing me to brush past him. The musky, powerful scent of him teased my nostrils, stirring the ashes of desire.
And again, that struck me as odd. I might be in a physically wretched state right now, but given the fierceness of our attraction up until now, I’d have thought the stirring of lust would have been stronger.
I poured myself a coffee, then turned around and leaned back against the counter. “If,” I said slowly, “the Brindle witches cannot find a way to mute the tracer, then we may have to resort to dark magic. But I draw the line at any sort of blood magic.”
This is not a wise move, Azriel commented.
I knew that. I also knew that we might have no other choice—not if we wanted to keep my father, the keys, and me out of Raziq hands.
Lucian nodded. “I will see what I can find out.”
“Good.” I took a sip of coffee, then added, “In the meantime, get the hell out of here. I need to rest, and I can’t do that with you two dumping animosity all over each other.”
Lucian scowled. “Evict the reaper, then. I cannot see why—”
“Lucian, go. We both know I probably won’t get to rest if you stay, and right now that’s what I need above anything else.”
His gaze swept over me, and then he nodded. “This time I will comply.”
He’d fucking comply next time, too. Otherwise, he and I wouldn’t be seeing each other in any way. If there was one thing I couldn’t abide, it was a man who ran roughshod over his partner—a fact I thought he might have cottoned to after being on the outs these last couple of days.
He sent a less than pleasant glance Azriel’s way, then spun and left the room. As the door slammed shut behind him, I walked back to the table and sat down. I pulled the dinner plate toward me and resolutely ate everything on it—more out of the knowledge that I needed the sustenance than any real desire to actually eat.
“You should sleep,” Azriel said softly. “You are running at the limits of your strength.”
“I know.” I leaned back in the chair and drank some coffee. “Tell me honestly—do you think the Brindle witches’ magic is going to be strong enough to counter the Raziq’s tracer?”
“It is an option we must try.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No.” He hesitated. “In all honesty, I do not think it will. Aedh magic is strong, and the Raziq have traveled down a path that has twisted and darkened theirs. I doubt we reapers would be able to counter it, let alone human magic.”
“But didn’t you say reapers aren’t particularly well versed in magic anyway?”
“We are soul guides first and foremost, but we were forced to at least gain some knowledge about magic and the portals when the Aedh priests all but died out.” He half shrugged. “But the dark magic that beats within you is far stronger than anything we have dealt with up until now.”
