“Yes. And there is one other restriction.”
My stomach was churning so badly it felt like I was going to throw up. It was enough that she could die – what the hell else could he do? But even as the thought crossed my mind, the answer came. He was Aedh, and Aedh, like reapers, could command souls. He could rip hers free and make her one of the lost ones – a ghost confined to the astral field, never to move on, never to be reborn. I licked dry lips and croaked, “Meaning?”
“The lariat will begin tightening at forty hours. At that time, she will have eight hours left.”
And with that, he was gone.
“Bastard!” Ilianna exploded, and swung around to face her mate. She touched a hand to Mirri’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
Mirri nodded, her face pale and fear in her eyes. “Yes. For now.”
I stopped beside Ilianna. “I’m sorry, Mirri, really sorry —” My voice faded. I seemed to be saying that an awful lot of late and, as ever, it was useless.
Mirri gave me a taut smile. “You can’t be held accountable for your father’s actions, Risa.”
No, but I could be held accountable for my own and if Mirri died… god, it would kill Ilianna. My gaze dropped to the thin cords of power around her neck and I raised a hand. Mirri hissed before I could actually touch it.
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “It tightens.”
I swore vehemently and glanced at Ilianna. “I don’t suppose hoping for some sort of magical intervention is worthwhile?”
Her gaze came to mine, green eyes filled with fury. Though it wasn’t aimed at me, I felt the force of it nevertheless. It would be unleashed my way if anything happened to Mirri.
“No. It’s a type of energy I’ve never felt before.”
No surprise there given its source was one of the most powerful Aedhs around. “Would the Brindle be able to do anything?”
It was, after all, the home of all witch knowledge, so surely they had to have something, somewhere, about the Aedh and their abilities. And some way of counteracting something like this.
“I’ll take her there immediately.” The doubt in her expression suggested she held little hope of them being able to do anything. She gently squeezed my arm. “Find the keys, Risa. Fast.”
Easier said than done, and she knew it. But I pressed my hand over hers in reassurance, then spun and walked back into the room I’d woken in. I gathered my keys and wallet, shoving them into pockets as I looked around to see if there was anything else I’d left behind.
There wasn’t. I’d obviously travelled light when I’d gone on my drinking binge. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, vaguely hoping it might help calm the turmoil inside. I may as well have tried to stop the moon from rising.
I swore softly, wrapped my fingers around my keys, and called to the Aedh within. She came with a rush that literally blew me away. Energy tore through every muscle, every cell, numbing pain and dulling sensation as it broke them all down, until my flesh no longer existed and I became one with the air. Until I held no substance, no form, and could not be seen or heard or felt by anyone or anything who wasn’t reaper or Aedh.
In that form, I swept out of the house and into the sunshine, speeding away from peace and quiet of the rolling hills, heading toward Melbourne and the Collins Street building that housed Lucian’s apartment.
I didn’t re-form as I neared the building – there were too many people walking along this end of Collins Street to risk that. I didn’t immediately go into the building, either, but scanned it carefully, looking for anything that seemed odd or out of place.
It was one of those grand old Victorians the top end of Collins Street was famous for and, like many of them up here, only five stories high. Lucian’s apartment was on the top floor, at treetop level, and would have been beautiful once it had been finished. Not that being unfinished had ever stopped us from using the place – and we’d certainly shared many good times within the half-constructed interior walls. But it had all been a lie.
Well, not so much the joy he’d gotten out of sex – in that area, at least, he’d been real and honest. And yet the sex had been nothing more than a means to an end for Lucian. What he’d wanted – what he’d always wanted – was the keys.
The keys were everything. To Lucian, to my father, to the Raziq, and Hunter. Hell, even Azriel…
I cut the thought off abruptly. Don’t think about him, I reminded myself fiercely. Just don’t.
But it was hard not to when I was carrying his child.
I cursed and moved warily into the building. There didn’t seem to be any traps, but that didn’t mean they weren’t here. After all, Lucian’s other lover – and his partner in key-stealing crime – was a dark sorceress. And while we had no actual proof Lauren had been working with both Lucian and the key thief, my father certainly hadn’t denied the possibility, and that was good enough for me. And given that, she’d want to protect his identity just as much as Lucian had. After all, the game was far from over – for them, as much as for us.
I slipped under the locked gate and into the building’s foyer. New marble had replaced much of the old, but the floor was covered in dust and the breeze rustled the plastic sheeting still covering some of the walls. There were no workmen here, despite the fact it was only early afternoon. With Lucian dead, I guess they’d have no choice but to shut the site down – at least until his estate was sorted out, anyway.
That’s presuming he’d made a will. Lucian had never suffered from a lack of confidence, and he certainly wouldn’t have expected to die as he had – especially by my hand. But it might be worth doing a search through the probate office records. If he did have heirs, maybe he’d left information with them.
There would be something, somewhere, of that I was sure. Lucian had been betrayed once, and it had cost him his Aedh powers. He wasn’t likely to let anything like that happen again. He would have had some form of insurance.