“But not surprising, given who we are dealing with. This one is similar in feel to the one around the warehouse that had the hellhounds.”
I glanced at him, amused. “That doesn’t exactly cut the options down, given we’ve discovered hellhounds at nearly every warehouse we’ve been to.”
A wry smile touched his lips. “I meant the first warehouse, not the second.”
Which was the one the Brindle witches had woven an exception into, allowing Azriel to enter, and also the place that held a secondary barrier within its bowels. We’d know soon enough what that one might be protecting, given that Kiandra now had the witches working on it.
“So this barrier is designed to keep out reapers and Aedh, but not human?”
“From the feel of it, yes.” He gaze came to mine. “I presume this means you are about to break in?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You say that like we’ve got another choice.”
“There are always other choices, as I believe you have often noted. However, they may take more time than we have; we need to know what goes on in that house now, not later. And with the barrier present, it is a task that necessarily falls to you.”
“Which doesn’t mean you’re happy about it,” I said.
“No, but then, I was assigned this task to protect you.”
“No, you were assigned to find the keys. Protecting me was a secondary—even if necessary—part of that task.” I leaned over and kissed him. “I won’t be long. And I’ll be careful.”
“Good. But you might want to face-shift, just in case Mike—or whoever else might be in that house—happens to be looking out the window.”
“Good idea.”
I leaned back, took a couple of deep breaths, then closed my eyes and pictured a face that was very different from mine—a sharper nose, a smattering of freckles across my cheeks, green eyes rather than lilac, and short but curly brown hair.
Then, freezing that image in my mind, I reached for the face-shifting magic. It exploded around me, thick and fierce, a gale-like force that made my muscles tremble and the image waver. I frowned and concentrated harder—easier said than done when the magic was designed to sweep away sensation and thought. But the energy responded and my skin began to ripple as bones restructured and my hair shortened and curled.
When the magic faded, I opened my eyes and glanced in the rearview mirror. The face that stared back at me was not my own. It was always a weird feeling.
I met Azriel’s gaze again. “Wish me luck.”
“I wish you safety,” he said. “Just don’t take unnecessary risks while in there.”
I grabbed the coat the car’s owner had rather conveniently left in the back and threw it on to hide my clothes as I climbed out of the car. While I might no longer look like me, Mike had noted what I’d been wearing and, given that he knew both Mom and I were face shifters, would undoubtedly be suspicious of anyone wearing the exact same clothes.
Tension rolled through me as I walked back to the white terrace, and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to stare up at the windows to see whether there was anyone watching me.
I opened the hip-height wrought-iron gate and stepped onto the bricked pathway that led both to the front door and around to the back of the property. The minute I did, the magic hit me, crawling across my skin like a thousand fireflies, stinging and burning. My skin twitched and crawled, and I had to resist the desire to
back out. However unpleasant the sensation was, it wasn’t actually stopping me. I guess that was something to be thankful for, even if I suddenly didn’t want to enter this place alone.
I walked on. The farther away from the gate and the barrier I got, the less intense the stinging became. My gaze swept the nearest windows, but I couldn’t see anyone watching. If there was an alarm woven into the magic, then it certainly hadn’t roused anyone.
Amaya, can you sense any life inside?
Nothing, she said. Evil only.
So Mike’s not there?
No.
Meaning there had to be some sort of transport device inside the house. The evil you’re sensing—is it magic? Or the creatures-from-hell-type evil?
She hesitated. Sure not.
Fabulous not, as she would say. Still, if we wanted answers, then I had little choice but to continue on—and given that Mike was no longer inside, there was little point in sneaking around. Sometimes, going boldly was the only sensible course of action.