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Fingers began clawing at my hand—a third Ania trying to break my grip on Amaya. The sword hissed furiously, her black blade ablaze and spitting fire all around us, setting the wooden furniture alight. The flames leapt upward with unnatural speed, filling the room with smoke and setting off the alarms. Sprinklers came on, soaking me in an instant, but they failed to quench the thirst of the fire.
As the flames crawled along the roof, I threw myself sideways, rolling in an effort to squish the Ania clinging to me. Their ghostly forms briefly scattered, and I quickly switched the sword from my bloodied right hand to my left and stabbed sideways across my body. The sharp edge of the blade ran across my belly, becoming ethereal where demon-forged steel met my flesh, leaving me unharmed as she slid deep into the wispy heart of an Ania. Purple fire wrapped around the creature, capturing it, drawing it back into the sword. Feeding on it.
Chills crept down my spine, but I had no time to think about a sword that fed on fellow demons. The Ania had latched onto my legs again and were dragging me forward. This time I knew what they were trying to do. The surge of power I’d sensed before had been a doorway forming. A dark and decidedly creepy-looking door to god knew where.
I dragged in a breath that was all smoke and swung Amaya again, her lilac fire like a comet’s tail as she bit through the air. The Ania dropped my legs and scattered, then suddenly Azriel was standing in front of me, Valdis screaming her fury as she sliced through the two retreating Ania. They exploded and a second later the doorway was gone, sucked back into whatever realm it had come from.
I scrambled to my feet. Flames were crawling down the walls, consuming everything in their path. The whole place was alight, and yet there was no heat, just smoke. Lots and lots of smoke.
I sheathed a still-hissing Amaya. She felt heavier on my back, as if the weight of the Ania she’d consumed had somehow increased the mass of her steel. I shivered at the thought, then grabbed my bag from underneath the table and slung it over my shoulder.
Azriel clasped my elbow, his blue eyes as fierce as the fire that swarmed Valdis’s side. “We need to get out of here.”
“What about the fire? Can you stop it?” The words came out wheezy. The fire might not hold any heat, but the smoke was thick and it clung to the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone talk.
“The fire is not mine, so no, I cannot.” His grip slipped down to my fingers, his palm warm against mine as he tugged me toward the rear exit. The smoke was so bad I could barely even see the emergency exit sign.
“Meaning I can?”
“Maybe.”
He pushed the doorway open. Beyond lay a small lane bathed in sunshine, but the sudden rush of fresh air seemed to send my lungs into a spasm and for the next few minutes I could do nothing but cough.
“Do you need a drink?” Azriel asked.
I shook my head and made a motion back toward the café. Smoke was funneling out of the open door and the purple flames were licking at the frame. It was almost as if they were following us.
“Amaya is their source,” Azriel said. “They follow where she leads.”
“Then how do I put it out? And why didn’t the café at Werribee mansion”—which was where we’d found, and lost, the first of the keys—“go up like this when Amaya set that alight last week?”
“Because her lust was fully sated and the flames could gain no hold. I suspect that’s not the case now.”
She was still hissing away merrily, so he was right in his presumption. “Then how do I calm her?”
He tugged me forward again, taking us farther down the lane, away from the front of the café and the approaching fire engines. “Every sword is different. What works for one will not work for the other.”
Which was a fat lot of help. I frowned, and tried sending calming thoughts her way. Her hissing only increased, and it felt oddly like she was telling me to get fucked. It would be just my luck to get a sword with attitude.
So I did the next best thing—I mentally promised her plenty of blood in the near future. She made several hissy, grumbling-type sounds, then quietened. A glance over my shoulder revealed that the flames were similarly calming.
Now all I had to do was hope I could keep the promise.
“Given that this attack was probably little more than a first foray,” Azriel said grimly, “I have no doubt that you will.”
We came out on Southbank Promenade and turned toward the underground parking at the arts center. He finally released his grip on my hand, but the warmth of his touch lingered.
“Who the hell would be sending Ania against us?” I glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then hitched up my dress and squeezed as much water from it as I could.
“They weren’t sent against us,” he said grimly. “They were sent to retrieve you.”
“That’s not what I asked.” I smoothed the dress back down, but it continued to drip.
Azriel acknowledged my point with a slight nod. He hadn’t put Valdis away yet, and the sword still glowed with angry-looking blue fire. I very much suspected it was a reaction to his emotions rather than any sense of lurking danger.
“It could be your father, it could be the Raziq, it could even be whoever stole the first key.” He shrugged and finally sheathed Valdis.
“My father has so far preferred to do his own dirty work, and the Raziq have always sent their Razan.” Razan were basically the long-lived human slaves of the Raziq, the secret group of Aedh priests who were apparently dedicated to finding a way to permanently close the portals between this world and the next. And, in the process, possibly destroy us all.
