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Somehow, I managed to keep the horror out of my voice as I said, “You’ll be the first person I call.”
“I had best be the only call you make where this case is concerned.”
I’d meant the comment sarcastically—it wasn’t like I could call anyone else, anyway. But I didn’t bother replying. I just hung up, shoved the phone away, and glanced at my watch. “Well, it’s nine o’clock. Given I can’t do anything else to find Ilianna, and I have no intention of going to that damn club earlier than I have to, we’ve got only one option left.”
“And that is?” Azriel said, the slightest hint of a smile breaking his otherwise bland expression.
“We go home and make mad, crazy love to each other. Let’s grab a moment of utter normality before the shit hits the fan completely.”
Because a storm was coming. I could feel it. And I had a bad, bad suspicion I might not survive it.
Azriel caught my hand and tugged me into his arms. “While I am alive, you will remain so. I promise you that, if nothing else.”
I melted into his embrace and listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. “If death is my fate, even you cannot change that.”
He didn’t answer, and my stomach dropped. I looked up quickly and caught the flash of . . . something dark—perhaps even a little guilt—in his eyes. Then it was gone, and all that remained was tenderness.
“Can you?” I asked, frowning.
“That is a question I hope I will never be forced to answer,” he said. Which wasn’t exactly an answer, but I knew him well enough now to understand it was all I was about to get. “Now, about this business of mad, crazy lovemaking. I’m not sure I understand the concept.”
I smiled. “Then take me home and I’ll show you.”
He did, and I did.
And it was glorious.
Chapter 10
The Falcon Club was decidedly seedy. The air was thick with the scents of cigars, alcohol, and unwashed flesh, and it was packed with people—mainly men, but there was a good smattering of women here as well, most of whom were scantily dressed and very obviously working the room. Sex, I suspected, could be found here for a price.
My nose twitched at the unpleasant aromas surrounding me, but I ignored them the best I could, grabbed a drink from the bar, then wound my way through the shabby tables, choosing one in the thicker shadows near the bathrooms. It was far enough away from the bar—and most of the patrons—that the air was almost breathable and had the added bonus of affording a good view of the small stage situated to the left of the bar.
I sat down and nursed the icy glass of beer between my palms. This club obviously wasn’t one of your more upmarket ones, so it was a little surprising that they’d employed someone like Di Shard to provide their entertainment. Given the state of this place—and the less-than-dapper look of its customers—a stripper would probably have been more appropriate. Or, at the very least, a rock band—although given the club’s close proximity to homes, noise regulations would probably have stopped that.
I took a drink of beer and briefly caught the eye of a tall, somewhat hairy individual several tables over. He reminded me somewhat of the visage Azriel had said he’d adopted when we’d visited Classique, and I couldn’t help smiling. The bear-shifter—he couldn’t really be anything else looking like that—obviously took my smile as a go-ahead signal, because he rose, hitched up his trousers, and began wandering over. He was little more than four feet away when he abruptly turned and headed off toward the bar.
I just about choked on my drink. And here I was thinking you couldn’t interfere with the thoughts or actions of others unless it involved the key search in some way.
Given the direction of that man’s thoughts, you should be thankful I did turn him away.
I grinned at the annoyance in his mental tones. And what if I’d wanted to be mauled by a hairy bear type?
You have far better taste than that.
The amusement bubbling through me got stronger. That wasn’t what you were saying when I was with Lucian.
The Aedh’s attraction was magic enhanced.
And the fact that he was also a fantastic lover had absolutely nothing to do with it. That comment was greeted by stony silence. I somehow controlled my amusement and switched to safer subjects. No sign of our spider-spirit yet?
We’d decided that—given the Jorõgumo’s sudden retreat last time we’d tried to confront her—it might be wiser if Azriel remained outside, in the vague hope that out of sight would mean out of sensory range. I could hide my features easily enough—and was, in fact, now green-eyed, brown-haired, and definitely not anything you’d label pretty—so it was unlikely she’d even recognize me, let alone sense I was anything more than just another non-human. Spirits, Azriel had assured me, weren’t often attuned to the Aedh. Amaya’s presence on my back was another matter entirely, but given I wasn’t about to go anywhere without having her close at hand, it was a risk we had to take.
No sign of her, he said. But she is unlikely to arrive early given she is aware that we hunt her.
Which makes me wonder if she’ll even turn up. I mean, if she’s as smart as you said, she’d be stupid to come here.
But, as Hunter noted, sometimes maternal demands overrun common sense.
