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It hunts, she replied, somewhat testily. Should kill.
Oh, she will be killed, just not by us.
Task mine.
Not this time.
I swear she swore—although if she had, it was in a language I couldn’t understand. Did demons even have their own language?
Of course, Azriel commented, his tone amused. All sentient beings do.
I guess I just didn’t expect it from a demon in a sword.
Remember, before she was in the sword, she was a very powerful demon causing a great deal of havoc.
Havoc good, she commented. Should cause more.
I snorted. Bloodthirsty little beast, aren’t you?
She preened. I shook my head, then tensed as the shifter and the Jorõgumo rose in unison. My gaze swept the club, but I didn’t see any sign of the guardian. Maybe he’d left after talking to the manager.
Not entirely, Azriel said. He’s outside, watching the entrance.
Damn. I should have guessed a guardian wouldn’t abandon his post so easily. Or that we’d be that lucky. We need to take him out.
The shifter and the spider-spirit didn’t head for the front door, however, but rather turned and walked, arm in arm, in my direction. I swore softly, but kept my head down and sipped the remains of my beer.
Awareness crawled across my skin. The closer she got, the worse it got, until it felt like thousands of tiny black feet were skittering all over me. My grip on the glass became so fierce, my knuckles went white—how it didn’t shatter, I had no idea.
They walked past, whispering like lovers. I resisted the urge to jump up and follow them, forcing myself to remain still and listen to their retreating footsteps. They didn’t go into the bathroom as I’d half expected, but rather through the rear fire exit.
I thrust to my feet and followed them, catching the door with my fingertips before it closed again. The alarm, I noted, had been disconnected—and had been for a while, if the state of the wires was anything to go by. Obviously, the Jorõgumo and her lover were not the first to make a retreat out the rear door.
I cautiously peered out. The two of them were halfway down the small lane that ran the length of the row of buildings in this block. I waited until they’d neared the main street, then slipped out, stopping the door from slamming closed before moving—as stealthily as I could—down the lane. The minute the two of them turned left and were out of my sight, I quickened my pace but didn’t run. Even a drunk shifter had damn good hearing. While he might not connect my footsteps with them being followed, he might just mention it. I couldn’t risk the Jorõgumo fleeing again.
Where are they going? I asked.
They have stopped near a car. Azriel paused. The guardian is on the move as well.
Shit. He must have put either movement sensors or temporary cameras in the lane. My gaze swept the shadows around me, but I couldn’t spot either of them. Of course, he very obviously wouldn’t have put them anywhere that they could be easily seen.
If there were damn cameras, though, it might lead to trouble for me. A brown-haired woman following the Jorõgumo and her next victim might not make this guardian suspicious, but it certainly would prick Uncle Rhoan’s internal radar.
Where is he?
He’s just turned left into the street you move toward.
Great. Unless I wanted him following the Jorõgumo and perhaps interfering with Hunter’s desire for revenge, I had to take him out. I looked around for some sort of weapon, but there wasn’t anything particularly handy lying about. But there was some sort of industrial Dumpster near the far end of the lane. I spun, ran back, and climbed in. After a few seconds of fishing around the stinking refuse and building rubbish, I found something usable—an old chair leg about one foot long.
I jumped out of the Dumpster, brushed off the worst of the gunk clinging to my jeans, then shoved a hand in my purse and wrapped my fingers around my phone and keys as I called to the Aedh. The magic transformed me in an instant, and I scooted down the lane. Now I just had to hope that the guardian wasn’t sensitive to energy forces.
I paused at the junction of the lane and the street and glanced left. The shifter and the Jorõgumo were about one street down, getting into a pale blue Toyota. I swore mentally and spun left, searching the shadows flowing across the footpath for the guardian.
He was moving with surprising speed for someone who wasn’t a vampire, and something silver glinted in his fist. Tracker, I thought. That was the last thing I needed.
I flowed past him, then spun around and moved up behind him. How the hell was I going to knock him out? Total re-formation was out of the question, especially given my less-than-stellar re-formation technique. Which left me with the option of doing a partial one—something I had done when in flesh form, but never from Aedh. Or on the move.
I snuck closer, then called to the Aedh. This time, I controlled the surge of power, channeling its fury, containing its strength, focusing it on just the arm that held the old chair leg. Making both real and solid.
