No.
I glared at him. “Why the hell not?”
Because you do not tell me everything you know or suspect.
Which seemed a bit hypocritical to me, given he was guilty of the same crime, but I knew it wasn’t about to change anytime soon. “Then will you at least do one thing for me?”
If it means you will stop risking exposure with all this talking, I will seriously consider it.
“All I’m asking is that you keep your distance whenever I’m with Lucian. That is my time, and it has absolutely nothing to do with your goddamn mission.”
He looked at me, his eyes glowing with an unearthly energy. “Trust me when I say that I have absolutely no desire to watch your liaison with the Aedh.”
The edge in his voice made my eyebrows rise. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“I do not trust him.” His gaze slid from mine. The edge in his voice had receded a little, but it still spoke of something more than distrust.
Which was curious. “Why?”
“Because he is Aedh.”
“A fallen Aedh.”
“Exactly. The Aedh do not tear wings off lightly.”
“He’s already explained that. He hunted down and killed the people responsible for his sister’s murder.”
His gaze flicked to mine once more. “And you believe him?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because full Aedh do not live in familial groups or feel love.”
“Which doesn’t mean it can’t be true.”
He studied me for a moment, then shrugged. Oddly enough, it seemed more an angry gesture than a casual one. “I shall bow to your judgment, as I have no knowledge of this Aedh.” And didn’t really want any, from the sound of it. “Now can we keep quiet and concentrate on finding this book before the priests return?”
I shut my mouth and walked on, my footsteps deadened by the slimy concrete. The air became fouler, clogging my lungs with its putrid stench. “God,” I murmured, raising a hand to my nose and pinching it shut. It didn’t help a whole lot—the smell still clawed at my throat and seared my lungs. “It smells like something massive has died down here.”
Azriel didn’t say anything. Maybe he was hoping I would follow suit. The tunnel widened slightly and my steps slowed as a sense of greater space hit me. But the darkness was still intense, and I couldn’t see any farther than my hand.
But I didn’t need to, because I could feel something. It was a presence—an energy—that tingled across my skin like fire and made the dragon on my arm stir and writhe within my flesh. It was a weird sensation.
“I think it’s here,” I said softly.
Azriel drew his sword and Valdis flared to life, blue flames caressing her razor-sharp sides before spreading out across the darkness.
Dark shapes scurried away from the light, and the source of the smell soon became obvious. A body lay in the center of what once must have been a wastewater junction. I couldn’t immediately tell if it was old or young, because most of its features had been eaten away by the rats. Its clothes were in tatters, but the remnants looked old and worn, and its hair—or what remained of it—was shot with gray.
A vagrant, I thought, continuing to hold my nose as I walked forward. The closer I got, the more the dragon writhed, and the more my stomach turned. The rats had been feasting on the vagrant’s body for a while, because intestines had spilled out over the old brickwork, gleaming like sausages in Valdis’s unearthly light.
“Do you still feel the presence of the book?” Azriel said softly.
I thrust up my arm so he could see the Dušan. She moved serpent-like around my arm, her eyes gleaming with an eerie lilac light.
“Interesting,” he said. “The Dušan do not usually react to stimuli outside the gray fields.”
I didn’t reply, concentrating on the Dušan as I held out my arm and swung around in a slow circle. Her twisting became more intense as I pointed to the right wall. I stepped over the vagrant’s legs and walked on. The Dušan’s reaction became stronger and stronger, until my flesh burned with her energy.