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True. But surely to god he wasn’t linked to Nadler. Surely to god I hadn’t been that gullible.

Azriel, perhaps wisely, made no comment about that particular thought.

I studied the innocuous-looking door for several seconds, then carefully raised a hand. As my fingertips neared the metal, energy began to flow across them. As Azriel had said, it didn’t feel evil or dark, just wrong. It was also oddly similar to the magic in the circle of stones that had formed a protective barrier around the gateway Jak—my ex, and a reporter who was helping us—and I had discovered underground when we’d been searching for Nadler’s base of operations in West Street. And that certainly suggested I’d been right in suspecting a link between Genevieve Sands and Nadler himself. According to Ilianna—who wasn’t only my best friend but an extremely powerful witch—every spell was as individual as the person creating it. Two spells having the same sort of feel could only mean the same person was behind both.

“We need to get in there,” I said. “We need to uncover what they might be hiding.”

“I do not think that would be a wise move.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“For one, the magic involved prevents me from entering, and two, I would think crossing the threshold would notify Sands, or Nadler, or whoever else might be the true owner of this container.”

My frown deepened. “So is the spell reaper specific, or is it more generally aimed at energy beings?” Because if it were the latter, it would also prevent me from entering.

He hesitated, and his energy slithered around me as he carefully tested the boundaries of the magic. “Reaper specific, by the feel of it.”

“Meaning whoever is behind this is more than a little familiar with your presence?”

“Yes.” He glanced at me. “Lucian.”

“You can’t blame him for every bit of evil we come across just because you don’t like or trust him,” I said, irritated.

“He is Aedh, he was your father’s chrání, he spelled you, and he is sexually involved with a dark sorceress. Why would he not be a suspect?”

Chrání was the Aedh word for a student or protégé, and it meant that even if Lucian hadn’t been involved with the making of the keys, he most certainly knew a whole lot more about them than he’d ever let on. And while he’d been using me to keep track of everything we did to locate the keys—had, in fact, placed a geas on me that had made it next to impossible for me to resist him sexually, which was important given he could read my mind only during sex—my father had been keeping track of him through me. Blood called to blood, and that apparently meant he not only knew where I was at any given time, but he could read my thoughts from a distance.

“Look, I’m not denying he’s involved. I just don’t think he’s responsible for this.” I waved a hand at the door and, as I did so, my fingers brushed the unseen magic. Light danced across them, warm and almost welcoming. Which was decidedly odd. “It seems to react to touch, too.”

“That is only logical. If whoever owns this had been hiding the real Nadler’s body in a freezer within, then he or she would not wish to risk anyone breaking in.”

“So why not ward against Aedh as well?”

“I do not know.”

Neither did I, and it piqued my interest. “I’ve got to get in there. This could be the break we’ve been looking for.”

“I do not think—”

“I know,” I cut in. “And I’m going to try regardless.”

Irritation swirled down the link between us, thick and sharp. I might not be able to catch his thoughts and feelings unless he wished it, but every now and again emotion got the better of his control. And while that could be a dual-edged sword—especially when it generally happened only when he was really angry over something I’d said or done—I wasn’t about to wish it away. I actually liked getting glimpses of what was going on in my generally stoic reaper’s mind.

I glanced toward the end of the hallway and studied the security camera. If I was going to get into the storage locker, I’d have to do it in Aedh form—and the last thing I needed was the transformation being caught on tape. “Can you do something about those things?”>“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.

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