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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.
The guardian must have sensed something was happening because he suddenly spun, but I’d already let loose with the chair leg. It smashed against the side of his head with a heavy crack, and he dropped like a ton of bricks. Guilt flickered through me. I hoped like hell he wasn’t hurt too badly, but it wasn’t like I could stop and check.
I drew my arm back to Aedh form and raced down the street just as the shifter’s car pulled away from his parking spot.
He drove fast, obviously eager to get home, and I had to wonder what the hell I’d do if he got pulled over by the cops. I couldn’t keep attacking law enforcement officers—especially given few cops traveled alone these days, and all of them had onboard cameras in their cars.
But he wasn’t pulled over, and eventually he stopped in front of a small weatherboard home that looked as unkempt as the shifter. Obviously, it was just the psychic power our dark spirit was attracted to rather than the sort that came with success and wealth.
He climbed out of the car, ran around the rear of it, and opened the Jorõgumo’s door, ushering her out and taking her arm as he escorted her through the front gate and up the steps. I waited until they’d gone inside, then re-formed. Once I’d picked myself up off the pavement and sorted out my clothing, I grabbed the phone and rang Hunter.
She answered almost immediately. “I do hope it’s good news, Risa dear,” she drawled. “I am not in the mood for the other sort.”
“I’m standing outside of an old weatherboard house. The Jorõgumo is inside, about to feast on another victim.”
Something dark, dangerous, and very, very hungry flashed in her eyes. “Give me the address immediately.”
I did. “What do you want us to do? Wait here or leave?”
“What I want you to do is go in and pen the bitch. As much as I do not care about the shifter himself, Jack has insisted I not risk more lives than necessary in my quest for revenge.”
Meaning Jack actually held some sway over her actions? Somehow, I suspected that would be the case only if his requests meshed with her own desires.
“I have no idea how the hell I’d pen—”
“I don’t care how you do it; just do it,” she cut in. “I will not be pleased to arrive and find her gone.”
A displeased Hunter was not someone I wanted to face. “Fine,” I muttered, and hung up.
Heat swirled through me, warm and familiar as Azriel appeared beside me.
“Is it safe for you to re-form?” I leaned my shoulder against his to steal more of his warmth. The night air hadn’t gotten any warmer, that was for sure.
“I am as far away now as I was back at the club, so I would presume so.”
“How the hell are we going to cage her?”
“Not we,” he said grimly. “You. The minute I get nearer, she will run.”
“Oh, fabulous.” I rubbed my arms, but it didn’t do a whole lot against the sudden sense of dread. “What do you suggest?”
“Amaya should be capable of containing her long enough for me to get in there and help complete the task.”
“She’s capable of consuming her, too,” I muttered. My sword’s response to this was what sounded like a wicked chuckle.
