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The energy in the cylinder became so electric, the hairs on my arms stood on end. “I am not interested in your best. I just want that key.”
You and everyone else. I rubbed my arms and didn’t say anything. A heartbeat later, the white light died and I found myself blinking at the abrupt darkness.
“You were successful?” Azriel said, then raised a hand and lightly brushed the hair from my eyes.
I nodded. “He said whatever he creates will not restrict anyone in flesh form from entering, though, so we still could be attacked.”
“It wasn’t so much the attack that was the problem last time, but the fact that the sorcerer used it to divert our attention from his arrival.”
“Well, he can still arrive, just not via magical means.” I paused. “It also means Lucian will not be blocked.”
“Trust me, it will be my great pleasure to deal with him if he does attempt to take the key from us.”
I eyed in him for a moment, then said, “You’re hoping he does, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” His reply was short, sharp. Angry.
“Because you want a reason to kill him.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Because of me? Because he was using me?”
He didn’t reply, but he really didn’t need to. I could feel the answer echoing deep inside of me. I reached out and placed a hand on his leg. His muscles tensed under my touch. “You cannot kill Lucian because of me, Azriel. I don’t want that guilt on top of everything else.”
“The guilt would not be yours—”
“If you break reaper rules to gain revenge for the way he’s treated me, then that is my problem. We’ve broken enough rules lately, Azriel. Let’s not top it with murder.”
“There are some rules worth breaking.” He sheathed Valdis and crossed his arms.
Talk about closing himself off, I thought with amusement. But before I could actually say anything, my phone rang. I bounced off the bed and ran into the living room to answer it.
“Risa? It’s Jak,” he said, rather unnecessarily given his rather handsome face was crystal clear on the phone’s screen. “You wanted to know if I’d heard anything unusual concerning fires?”
My heart began beating a whole lot faster. “Yeah, I did.”
“Well, I might just have something. But it’ll cost you.”
I snorted. “I’m not giving you a story, Jak. Not on this one.”
He grinned. It touched his eyes, warming the dark-chocolate depths and creating the usual havoc with my pulse rate. He might have caused me untold heartache in the past, but there was still a tiny part of me that remembered—and maybe even hungered for—the good times.
“Oh, I don’t want a story.” He paused, and the spark in his eyes grew. “I want a date.”
“No.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to you later—”
“That’s fucking blackmail, Jak.”
“Yep.” His voice was cheery. “I believe there’s still something between us, Ris. You keep saying there isn’t, but you lie, and we both know it. A date should sort it out one way or the other.”
“Jak, I’m not getting into a relationship with you.” Annoyance filled my voice. “Accept that and move on.”
“I had, but then you went and kissed me, and it just reminded me of how good we’d been together.”
I rubbed my forehead wearily. I hadn’t actually kissed Jak—I’d kissed Azriel. At the time, he’d been wearing Jak’s image, as we’d thought Jak might have been the target of a sniper. Those suspicions had turned out to be wrong, but I couldn’t entirely regret it, because that kiss was the reason Azriel and I had finally ended up lovers. What I did regret was telling Azriel to give Jak full memories of what had happened that night—kiss included.
