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“As long as you do hold me, I don’t care.” I reluctantly returned my attention to the building in front of us. “Can’t you just pull the information about the storage locker from the mind of whoever is manning the reception desk?”
“I could, but our sorcerer appears to have telepathic abilities, remember, and while it is unlikely he would sense any psychic intrusion on my part, it is a risk we should not take, given he is most certainly aware of my presence on this quest.”
I frowned. “Does that mean clouding her perception is out?”
“No. Clouding is more a sensory intrusion than a mental one, and therefore it is safer.”
“Then I guess you’d better make whoever is inside think we’re cops.”
“That I can do.” He placed his fingers under my elbow and lightly guided me across to the thick shrubs that lined one side of the nearby parking lot. “If you wish to alter your facial shape, you will not be seen here by either the cameras or those driving by.”
“Good idea.” While Azriel might be able to stop people from noticing his comings and goings, the last thing we needed was some poor driver spotting what I was doing and having a freak-out. While humanity was as aware of shape-shifters as they were vamps and werewolves, very few knew of the existence of us face-shifters.
I flexed my fingers, then closed my eyes and pictured my own face—from the silver of my hair, the lilac of my eyes, the slight uptilt of my nose and defined cheekbones, to the fullness of my lips. Then I replaced it with more rounded features, thinner lips, and very short black hair. A black so rich it shone blue in the sunlight.
Once that image was frozen in my mind, I reached for the magic. It exploded around me, thick and fierce, as if it had been contained for far too long. It swept through me like a gale, making my muscles tremble and the image waver. I frowned, holding the image fiercely against the storm. Power began to pulsate, burn, and change me. My skin rippled as my features altered, and my hair suddenly felt shorter and somehow finer. As the magic faded, my knees buckled, my legs suddenly weak.
Azriel gripped my arm and saved me from falling.
“Damn,” I muttered, leaning against him briefly. “That never seems to get any easier.”
“Given you continue to function barely above exhaustion, it is unlikely to.”
“It’s not like I can do a whole lot about that,” I muttered, and forced my knees to lock. “What I need is for the bad guys to stop creating havoc for a month or so.”
“A situation that is unlikely. I am actually amazed that your father has let the lack of progress on finding the second key slide for as long as he has.”
“He could hardly force me to look when I was all but dead in the hospital. Even he isn’t that callous.”
“I would not be so sure of that.”
Actually, I wasn’t. My father had shown a decided lack of parental care up until this point, and I had no doubt that lack would continue.
“Ready to go?” Azriel added.
I took another of those deep, steadying breaths that really didn’t help all that much, then nodded. He touched a hand to my back again and guided me toward the front door, his fingers spearing warmth into my spine despite the thickness of my sweater.
A deeper, more resonant energy swirled as we entered the building—Azriel, touching the receptionist’s mind to alter her perception.
So what will she see us as?
Police, as you wished.
Good. There were no cameras in this particular area, so the lie wouldn’t immediately be uncovered.
The receptionist gave us a cheerful smile. “And what can I do for you both on this rather chilly autumn morning?”
“I’m afraid we’re here on official business.” Azriel stopped in front of the desk and gave her a warm smile.
Her smile grew. So much for him not flirting. “And what business would that be?”
“We need to know if there’s a Genevieve Sands renting a storage unit here.”
“Just a moment, and I’ll check.” She glanced down at her computer, quickly typing, then said, “Yes, she is. It’s one of the larger ground-floor units.”
“Would we be able to look at it?”
She frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in without a search warrant—”
