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Because, my inner voice whispered, you care more than you should. More than is wise.

And he didn’t. Because he was energy rather than flesh and didn’t do emotions the same way the rest of us did. I knew that. Just as I knew his mission would always come first, no matter what. But the knowledge didn’t help ease the pain of that situation or this one.

I made it five steps past the flames before he caught my hand and stopped me.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should not have said that.”

“No,” I answered, not turning around and still blinking furiously.

He hesitated. “I did not mean to hurt you.”

My smile held little humor. “If you didn’t intend to hurt, you shouldn’t have said the words.”

“I agree. Risa, please, look at me.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, somewhat shuddering breath, then obeyed.

“I am sorry.” He wiped a lone tear from my cheek with his thumb. “It will not happen again.”

My gaze scanned his, but I could see nothing more than regret there. Whatever else he might be feeling or thinking, he was controlling it tightly. I sighed and rested my forehead against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid I can’t offer the same. If I think you’re going to die, Azriel, I’ll do what it takes to protect you. I can’t do anything else. I need you.”

And not just for protection.

He brushed a kiss across the top of my head. Warmth tingled through me, filling the spaces that had been so recently shivering under the force of his fury. “If dying is my fate, then so be it. I am here to do a job, Risa, and neither of us should forget that.”

“You can’t do that job if you’re dead.”

“As I have said, if death is my fate, then so be it. You are the important one in this equation. You and the keys.”

“And I’m only important because I’m the only way to those keys.” I snorted softly. “You know, if I did die, the world would be better off. No one would be able to find the keys or open hell’s portals.”

“If you think your father or the Raziq would stop searching simply because you were dead, you are sorely mistaken.” Azriel’s voice held a sharp edge. “Death cures nothing, Risa.”

Maybe. Maybe not. I pulled away from the comfort of his touch. “Let’s go back to the car. I need to go home.”

He released my hand and I walked out the door—only to run nose-first into an all-too-familiar chest.

“Speak of the devil and he arrives,” Azriel muttered.

I shot him a warning glance, then stepped back. If ever there was a man who was perfectly formed in every imaginable way, Lucian was it. He was truly beautiful to look at, and yet there was nothing effeminate about his looks or his presence. He was tall, towering over me by a good six inches, and his build was that of a warrior—muscular and strong.

He had the facial features of an angel, and in the past—before his golden wings had been torn off—he probably would have been mistaken for one. Because even though reapers were the true soul guides, it was the Aedh who were the source of the angel seen in so many myths. And like many of those mythical angels, he had golden hair and eyes that were the most glorious shade of jade, but his were so full of power that it was almost impossible to meet them without flinching.

Normally, my heart rate would have leapt into overdrive at the mere sight of him, but given my recent brushes with both my father and the Raziq, I couldn’t muster anything more than annoyance—though it was edged with a bit of suspicion.

“What are you doing here, Lucian?”

His eyebrows rose. “We haven’t seen each other for almost a week, and this is the greeting I get?”

“It is when you suddenly appear where you’re not supposed to be.”

“Last time I looked, this was a public train station, not a private one.” His expression was amused, despite the slight edge in his voice.

“You know what I meant.”

“I do.” His gaze ran past me. “So nice to see you again, reaper. And I can see by the bruises around Risa’s lovely neck that you’ve been doing an outstanding job of protecting her again.”

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