An Aedh.
My father, to be precise.
Chapter 3
As the awareness of my father’s presence grew, so did the ache in my heart, until all I felt was pain, inside and out.
I doubled over, unable to do anything more than gasp. But it wasn’t a heart attack. It was something far more deadly—the transmitter the Raziq had placed in my heart, reacting to my father’s presence.
Calling the Raziq, telling them he was coming.
And I could barely even breathe, let alone give him any sort of warning.
An instant later, I was flung up against the lockers, my feet off the ground and a band of iron against my neck.
“What have you done?” The voice was a deeper, angrier version of mine, and it seemed to shake the foundations of the room around us. “What have you agreed to?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out because no air was getting in. Panic surged, and for a moment I wondered if he intended to kill me in sheer and utter rage.
Blue-edged steel appeared in my line of vision, the sword’s sharp point aimed at the heart of the fierce energy holding me captive.
“Tell us where we can find the keys,” Azriel said flatly. “Or die now.”
Deep inside me anger flared. For fuck’s sake, Azriel, I’m choking and in serious pain here, in case you didn’t notice!
He either didn’t hear me or didn’t care. Neither, apparently, did my father. The iron band of energy continued to squeeze my neck, and it felt like my lungs were about to burst. Tiny spots began to dance in front of my eyes.
“If you kill me, reaper, you will fail in your quest to capture the keys.”
There was no hurry in my father’s voice, no urgency. As the shadows of unconsciousness began to crowd close, I wondered where the hell the Raziq were. At least their arrival would break this uncaring tableau.
“As will everyone else who seeks them,” Azriel replied. “That is an outcome I could live with.”
It was an outcome I could live with, too. If I got to live, that was.
“You and I both know such an outcome would be unacceptable to those who sent you here, reaper.” Amusement ran through my father’s deep tones. “It would appear we have reached an impasse.”
Azriel!
The mental shout was filled with desperation, and his gaze flickered briefly toward me. Frustration and anger burned in his eyes. “Release her. Or I will kill you.”
And hurry. The spots were getting larger, my heart felt like it was about to shatter, and the need for air was so fierce my lungs were on fire.
“You won’t kill me, reaper.” The trace of amusement was gone from his voice. “As I’ve already stated, you need the information I carry too much.”
“And we both need her alive. Release her—now!” Valdis’s flames skittered across the fierce energy that was my father’s presence, enveloping him in a fiery cage.
Whether it was the threat of the flames or simply the realization that he did need me alive, the steely band of energy bruising my neck suddenly disappeared and I collapsed to the ground. There I remained, on hands and knees, dragging in shuddering gasps of air and grateful that I could still do so.
“You bear the device of the Raziq in your body,” my father said. Though the force of his anger no longer held me captive, it vibrated through the undernotes of his voice. “Why?”
Because I had no fucking choice, I thought, but the words remained locked in my throat as I continued to suck air into my still burning lungs.
God, where the hell were the Raziq? My father might have released his death grip on me, but the Raziq’s transmitter had not. The pain of the device was all-encompassing, and spots still danced madly across my vision.
“It was not her choice,” Azriel answered. “And if you know a means of removing it without killing her, tell us.”
“There is no removal except death.” My father paused, and the energy of him pulsated. “The Raziq come. I will find another way to contact you.”
“Leave a damn note—” I croaked.
“No,” he said.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I need to read your mind and understand what the players around you do.”
And despite the net of fire enveloping his form, the force that was my father disappeared. I couldn’t say I was entirely sorry to see him go. I might not have gotten any answers, but at least the fire in my heart began to ebb away. It left me trembling and weak.
“I’m afraid it is not over yet.” Azriel tucked an arm under my arm and hauled me upright. “The Raziq come, as he said.”
The words had barely left his mouth when another storm swamped me. Panic surged, but I drew Amaya and tried to ignore it. Of course, past experience told me she wouldn’t be enough against the force of them, but at least this time I had Azriel by my side. Surely he wouldn’t fall victim to the mind tricks the Raziq had used last time I was with them.
Fire dripped from the points of the two swords. It hissed and spat as it hit the concrete, and spread out in a sweeping arc, forming an incandescent barrier around us. It was almost as if the swords had drawn a line and were daring the Raziq to cross it.
The storm grew stronger, until I was being physically buffeted by it. I narrowed my gaze against the dust and rubbish flying through the air, my breath caught somewhere in my throat and my stomach churning. Every time I’d faced the Raziq, something had gone wrong.
Every single damn time.
“Not this time,” Azriel said. He took a step forward, half protecting me with his body.
No protect! Amaya’s protest echoed through my brain. Want to kill.
There is time enough for that, I snapped, my gaze on the flicker that was growing beyond the circle of fire. Once upon a time I would not have seen it, but my sight seemed to have altered fractionally since Amaya had become one with me.
Want now, she grumbled, but her voice had at least lowered a couple of octaves.
Soon. I waved her lightly back and forth. Her fire spat through the air, reaching past the wall of fire, landing near the edge of the Raziq’s shimmery presence. But there was more than one here. There had to be. The wash of energy was too fierce.
And Azriel’s readiness to attack was so strong that the force of it vibrated through every part of me, vying for prominence with the energy crawling across my skin.
“I told you my father would sense your approach,” I croaked, before either the Raziq could say anything or Azriel could react. “He’s far more cunning than you give him credit for.”
Red flames flickered down Valdis’s sides. I wondered if it was an indicator of the sword’s annoyance or her master’s.
“It is also possible that you warned him.”
The voice was cool, without inflection or emotion, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was one of the Raziq who’d torn me apart to place the tracker in my heart.
“I didn’t warn him, trust me on that. I want as little to do with him as I do with you.”
“That, at least, is true.” The energy in the air sharpened. “Do not release your weapon, Mijai. There are too many of us here, and your numbers are few enough.”
“Our numbers are irrelevant.” Though his voice was as calm and cool as the Raziq’s, his stance had shifted imperceptibly. He was readying for action. “What matters is my ability to counter your presence, and that is not in question.”
The fierceness in the air suddenly sharpened, and a thick sense of impending doom swamped me. If Azriel attacked, he’d die. I was as sure of that as I was of the moon rising tonight. There was no way known that I was about to let that happen.
I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around his arm. It felt like I was gripping stone.
The force of Valdis’s flames ramped up, but Azriel didn’t react. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. The force of it just about blew my brain circuits.
“Your presence here does nothing to encourage my father to come back,” I said, trying to keep calm against the twin storms buffeting me. “If you want him, you had better leave.”
“He now knows about the tracker. The point of it is useless.”
My mouth went suddenly dry. If the tracker was useless, did that mean I was as well? I swallowed heavily, and somehow said, “And here I was thinking the Aedh were clever enough to work out a way around that.”
He obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. “That is without question. But your father is also Aedh—he will find a means to mute the transmitter.”
No doubt. “Then you’ll just have to work faster than him, won’t you?”
“Or develop a different way of drawing him to you.” He paused. “We will be in contact, Risa Jones.”
The threat hung in the air as the energy of their presence began to dissipate. Azriel wrenched his arm from my grip, then drew Valdis back and released her in one violent movement. The sword sang through the air, the sound fierce, joyous. She hit the fading remnants of the shimmer and there was a short, sharp explosion, accompanied by a shrill scream. Then there was no energy, no Raziq.
Only fury.
Valdis looped around and returned to her master. Azriel caught her one-handed, then swung to face me. His expression was as angry as I’d ever seen it.
“Do not ever do that again.” Though his voice was flat, every inch of him seemed to vibrate. Valdis’s steel wasn’t even visible, so dark were her flames.
And Amaya responded, her hissing fierce enough inside my head to make my eyes water. She was ready to protect, whether it be against foe or friend.
“Azriel—”
“I am here to protect you, not the other way around.”
“You would have died.” I sheathed Amaya—although it didn’t shut her up—and rubbed my arms. Not that it did much against the force still assaulting me or the chill that the mere thought of losing him sent through me.
“There is always the Aedh,” he practically spat. “You trust him so much, after all.”
