“Too right,” he said, dumping the gloves and the syringe into a tray near his desk. They were promptly sucked away to God knew where.
“Risa, it’s time to go,” a familiar voice behind me said.
Both Stane and I jumped, and I turned. Azriel was standing behind me, arms crossed as he studied us both. He seemed amused, even if his expression was its usual blank slate.
“Damn it,” Stane said. “For the sake of my nerves, let alone my heart, you really need to learn to knock or something.”
“Wouldn’t a knock coming out of nowhere alarm you almost as much?”
“Not nearly as much as hearing a voice come out of nowhere, then looking up to see a man-mountain,” Stane commented.
Stane, like nearly everyone else, couldn’t see Azriel’s natural form. He saw the form most likely to give him comfort and make him feel safe. In this case, it was the image of a deceased relative. Interestingly, Tao saw the same image.
Azriel shrugged. “I cannot alter the manner in which I appear. I am either here or I am not.”
Which wasn’t exactly true, because he could be here and not be visible. He’d done that more than a few times.
“How did your scouting trip go?” I asked.
“There were six Razan in the tunnel. But there are now five, thanks to one taking a rather careless step into the street without looking first.”
“And his soul?”
“Guided down the dark path, as was his lot.”
“By you?”
He nodded. “Why do you seem surprised? I told you before that was my intention.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you meant actually guiding the soul as well. I mean, you’re a Mijai, not a reaper.”
“I was a reaper long before I was a Mijai.”
“So becoming a Mijai is a promotion?”
His smile held a slightly bitter edge. “No, it is not. We are merely the warriors, the dark angels. Reapers are the soul guides, and that is truly an honored position.”
“All reapers are guides, but not all reapers can become Mijai, so why would the former be more honored than the latter? Both do important tasks.”
“Yes, but we are called dark angels for a reason. We really must go.”
“Not without telling me the reason for the moniker.”
“Later,” he said, and winked out of existence.
I swore softly, then looked over at Stane. “I guess I have to go.”
“Sounds like it,” he said, amused. “Good luck with getting that information. Personally, I think it’d be simpler getting blood from a stone.”
“You could be right. And don’t forget to send me your account details so I can flash over the money.”
He leaned sideways and pressed a couple of buttons. A second later my phone beep
ed. “Ta,” I said, and waved a sketchy good-bye.
The containment field went down as I neared the door. I walked around to my Ducati and was relieved to see she was still in one piece. I pulled on the helmet, jumped on the bike, and headed home.
Azriel appeared as I drove into our garage. “We really must be going,” he said, a slight edge of impatience in his voice. “It is nearly one.”