I wouldn’t bet the blood bank on it, I replied grimly.
I only ever bet when I’m sure of a win. Stanford didn’t seem too perturbed by my refusal to fall in line with his plans, and that made me more than a little nervous. I doubted he was the type to give up easily. He added, In this case, I certainly would bet the bank – blood or otherwise.
He bowed – an old-fashioned but elegant movement – then disappeared. Swirls of gray were the only indication that anyone had ever stood there. I glanced at Markel. You should have known this would be a waste of time. You’ve been following me around long enough to get some sense of how I’d respond.
He shrugged. Reminding you of your options – and the fact we can and would do our best to make it a more even fight– can never be considered a waste of time.
Give me an army at my back and I might consider it. But one-on-one? No fucking way.
You would hardly be alone given the reaper rarely leaves your side.
And you think Hunter wouldn’t be canny enough to have a means to nullify his presence? Magic can restrain him, Markel, and I’m betting Hunter has been around long enough to know such a spell.
More than likely. He hesitated. However, if you have no intention of ever going up against her, then do nothing more to antagonize her. She walks a knife edge of sanity at the moment.
If you know this, the fucking council must. Why won’t they do something about her? Surely if they ganged up on the bitch they could defeat her.
As Harry said, we are bound by rules and conventions. It is not that simple.
I snorted. And do you think Hunter plays by the rules? Or even cares about them?
Perhaps not, but if we play her game, then we are no better than her. And she is not without her supporters. He hesitated. Be wary of what you say. We hear every word here on the plane. You would not want her other followers to realize anything untoward has happened.
I know. I studied him grimly for a moment. What happens if they do suspect anything?
Then I will have to take care of them.
Kill them, you mean.
He shrugged. There is little other choice. Besides, it is what I do.
But won’t it alert Hunter that something has happened?
If an astral traveler is killed on the plane, then they die here on Earth. It would not be the first time such a death happened, and I daresay it will not be the last. It is a risk we all take when traveling.
That didn’t actually answer the question.
Yes, she will suspect and more than likely question me. But she has no reason to question the loyalty of the Cazadors, and she will not suspect my involvement.
No, she’d suspect me.
Perhaps, but we work twelve-hour rotating shifts. If the kill is timed right, it would be at least ten hours before the body was discovered. The plane is an ever-shifting environment. There would be no evidence left to find.
There’d be a ghost. Ghosts can be questioned.
It would be a fragmented ghost, and insane. They would get no information from it.
I frowned. What the hell is a fragmented ghost?
It happens when the part of the soul that walks the field is killed. The traveler not only dies in flesh as well as spirit, but it sends the remainder of their soul mad. It is the source of the ghosts who wail. They can do little else. He bowed slightly.Until next we meet.
And with that, he disappeared. I shook my head and imagined myself back in my body. I whooshed back quickly – a little too quickly, as it turned out. My eyes sprung open as I gasped in shock.
“Whoa,” I said, swallowing heavily as my stomach leapt up into my throat. “Forgot all about the side effects of doing that.”
The bed dipped as Azriel sat beside me and held out a can of Coke. “Would this help?”
“If I was a normal person, no it wouldn’t.” I pushed upright, and ignored my rebellious stomach as I accepted the Coke. “I, however, happen to have this stuff running through my veins.”