“No, but you’re Mijai, and surely if anyone would be able to see through a veil, it would be you.”
“The veil could be magical rather than connected to the gray fields. And if it is, it would work on me as effectively as on anyone else.”
“Really? You saw the spell on the elevator clearly.”
“That was human magic. The Aedh are more adept at concealing their magic from us.” He shrugged. “We will have little enough time as it is, and attempting to find something that I might or might not be able to see would be foolish.”
Point taken. A glance at my watch revealed it was nearly two thirty. I wasn’t going to make Stane’s this afternoon, given I started work at three.
“Isn’t the nanowire more important at this juncture?” Azriel commented.
“Yes, but I doubt Hunter is going to come waltzing into the restaurant anytime
soon. Plus, we’d never get anyone to step in for me this late.”
“Then what time do you finish this evening?”
“Eleven. Or thereabouts, depending on how busy we are. Why?”
“Because while you are working, I will scout out the tunnels the Raziq hide in.”
“Won’t they sense you?”
“Yes, but one of their Razan is allotted to die this evening. I will use that to our advantage.”
Meaning he’d follow him around like a regular reaper until the moment his death occurred. As plans went, it was pretty good. At least we’d know the lay of the land before we went in. “But won’t that piss off whatever reaper has already been assigned the job?”
He frowned. “Piss off means ‘annoy,’ does it not?” And when I nodded, he continued, “Why would you think it would annoy whoever was his previously allotted guide?”
“Well, you’re usurping his position.”
“That’s not the way it works for us. And this investigation would get priority even if it was.”
“And here I was thinking you were stuck like glue to my ass until everything was done and dusted.”
“Well, at least it is a most suitable ass to be following,” he said, and winked out of existence.
Leaving me a little speechless. What sort of compliment was “suitable”? And why the hell was he even noticing my ass anyway? Especially given his stated disinterest in the human race as a whole, and the human body in particular?
I shook my head, beginning to suspect I was never going to understand him. Then I left the locker room and made my way back to my bike, pausing only to place my promised call to Ilianna, assuring her all was okay.
The streets were crowded, so it took me longer than usual to get over to Lygon Street—and of course that meant I was late.
I jogged up the stairs to wash and change, thankful that I’d made a habit of keeping several changes of clothes at work. After grabbing an apron, I pitched in, taking orders, working the till, clearing tables— basically, just being where I was needed the most. We were busy the entire shift, and my side wasn’t the only thing aching by the time we neared the end. Of course, doing this job in stilettos was never a good idea, but the shoes were new and pretty, and sometimes that won out over sensible.
By the time Ilianna came in for her shift, we’d hit a lull and I was leaning a hip against the bar, one shoe off as I rubbed an aching heel.
“Here,” she said, stopping at the other side of the bar and delving into her bag. “I brought you this.”
She held out a little red bottle, and I grinned. Foot balm. “You’re an angel.”
She smiled. “I prefer goddess. Especially since you already have one angel in your life.”
“A very dark angel.”
“At least he’s cute.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And why are you even noticing something like that?”