Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

“The Aedh did. I examined the body in the sewer.”

I turned around and began stripping off as I walked toward the shower. Azriel’s gaze was a weight that pressed against my spine, and despite the fact that I was werewolf—and more than used to parading around naked before all and sundry—embarrassment began to swirl through me.

Because he wasn’t all and sundry.

And that, I thought in annoyance, was the stupidest thought I’d ever had. He wasn’t all and sundry because he was a reaper, and he didn’t care if I was clothed or naked, upside down or inside out. The only thing that mattered to him was achieving his mission. Nothing more, and nothing less.

“That is not entirely true,” he said softly.

I closed my eyes as I turned on the water. Damn it, why couldn’t I just stop thinking such stupid thoughts? “Why isn’t it?”

“I care for your safety. I care that you are not looking after yourself properly.”

“Only because my carelessness could affect your mission.” I stepped into the shower and simply stood there for a moment, letting the hot water sluice down my body, washing away the worst of the sewer grime as well as the remnants of my clothing. Then I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You know, we’ve had this argument before. I really need to get over it, don’t I?”

“Yes.”

I grinned and glanced at him over my shoulder. He was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed and his expression dispassionate. Valdis sat in her sheath, yet little amber fireflies of energy flew around her hilt. Not indicating his anger, I thought, but something else—though what that something else might be, I had no idea.

I grabbed the shampoo and tried to concentrate on the mundane task of washing my hair rather than the very unmundane man behind me. “Did you find anything on the body?”

“Nothing at all.”

“What do you mean, nothing?” I said, a little confused.

“No wallet, no identification, no phone, nothing.”

I frowned. “What about a holster?”

“No.”

“Why would he have a gun and not a holster?”

I was thinking out loud rather than asking an actual question, but Azriel answered anyway.

“Maybe he doesn’t normally carry a gun and only grabbed it once he was running from you.”

“He didn’t have time to grab anything. He simply ran.”

“Then logically, he was carrying it all along.”

Logically, yes. But I still couldn’t escape the itch that something about the whole situation was off.

“Then you need to listen to instinct,” Azriel commented.

I sighed. “The trouble with that is that instinct isn’t giving me a whole lot more than vague feelings of unease.”

“You’ll get more, if you give it time.”

And time was something we didn’t seem to have a lot of. “Was his soul collected by a reaper?”

“No. His death did not follow the ordained order, so his soul will roam the wilderness between this world and the gray fields.”

“Could you find it? Question it?”

“No. He is in the lost lands. I can see the lost ones, but I am not able—nor am I allowed—to communicate with them in any way.” He paused. “But you might be able to. Adeline Greenfield said you had more of your mother’s talents than you were aware, and your mother communicated with both the dead and the lost ones.”

“I might be able to see ghosts, but I’ve never known how to communicate with them. And right now we haven’t got the time for me to learn.” Although if things kept going against us, I might just have to find the time. “Did Ilianna get her books and equipment okay?”