She gave me one of those cool vampire smiles. “I want you to work for me.”
For me. Not the directorate. Her. “Why?”
“I believe we could be useful to each other.”
I paused. “Why would you think I’d in any way want to help the vampire council?”
“Because you want to find your mother’s killer.”
“The Directorate has that investigation well under control.” And even if there were very little in the way of leads, I had faith in Uncle Rhoan. If anyone could catch whoever had done this, he could.
“The Directorate, as efficient as it has proven itself to be at hunting and killing those foolish enough to transgress against humans, has neither the proficiency nor the potency of the high council. Trust me when I say it is like comparing a breeze to a cyclone.”
“To quote an old, somewhat clichéd saying … I wouldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you.”
Humor flirted with her lips. I wondered if emotion ever did.
“Which is most definitely wise. However, I am serious. I want your help, and in return you will have the full services of the council and its Cazadors to hunt down this killer.”
“Why the hell would I want the help of the Cazadors? They’re little more than leashed murderers, aren’t they?” A fact I knew because Uncle Quinn had once been one. He’d survived the experience, which apparently was rare in that line of work.
“The Cazadors are the most dangerous and deadly hunters ever created. Once they are unleashed, they will not stop until they bring down and destroy their target. If anyone can find the person or persons behind your mother’s slaughter, it will be them.” She hesitated, and that cold, cool smile twitched her lips again. “They do not have the legal restrictions that the Directorate has.”
I stared at her for a moment, trying to ignore the chill creeping across my skin, the knot of fear deep inside that suggested even standing here listening to this was a very dangerous thing to do.
“I can’t give you my father. He doesn’t exist on this plane anymore. His recourse to flesh has been stripped from him.”
“So you have had contact with him?”
“Briefly. He didn’t really tell me anything I didn’t already know.”
If she sensed the lie, she didn’t react to it. “Which means there is the possibility he might contact you in the future.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “So is that all you want me to do? Inform you when my absent parent contacts me?”
“In part, yes.”
“And the rest of it?”
She tilted her head sideways and studied me for a minute. “You are aware, of course, that all three of the dark path’s gates were recently opened?”
I nodded, then crossed my arms and waited for the rest of it. And tried to ignore the thick knot of apprehension growing in my stomach.
“Were you also aware that, in the brief time they were open, things came back through?”
I stared at her, then licked my suddenly dry lips and said, “Things? What sort of things?”
She shrugged. “Creatures who can gain flesh and walk in this world, and others who maintain spectral form and who can only be seen by those with certain talents.”
Like mine.
“I am not a hunter or a killer, nor do I wish to be.” But Azriel was. And if things had come back through the gates, why hadn’t he mentioned it?
Then again, why would he?
I was not part of his world. I was just a chore—someone he had to follow against his own wishes and desires.
Although if things had come through, then it explained why the Mijai were apparently so busy—and why he was so pissed off about having to tag around after me.