I grabbed a quick shower at Jak’s in the vague hope that it’d wash away all the bits of fluff and debris that were both on and in my skin – the Aedh magic didn’t always re-form clothing as precisely as it deformed it, and it wasn’t unusual for me to have annoying bits of fiber sticking out of my flesh for days after becoming Aedh – then went in search of clothes. I found a pretty, knee-length dress at the back of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom, but had no such luck when it came to underwear – for which I was kind of glad. It would have been a little too weird if he’d kept any of that after all these years.
But just as I was about to pull on the dress, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror behind me, and froze. Because my reflection now bore a series of tattoos that ran up the back of my neck and disappeared into my hairline. They were a mix of patterns that sometimes resembled the known – one looked vaguely like a rose, another like an eye with a comet’s tail – and at other times looked nothing more than random swirls. But these weren’t any old tats. They were a tribal signature – Azriel’s tribal signature.
Obviously, when he’d leashed our energy beings and bound us together forever, I’d become part of his tribe. His family. The one he was apparently refusing to see because of his shame at being a dark angel.
And for the first time since I’d woken up in the hospital, I had to wonder – at what cost to himself had he made me one?
He’d once said that if we’d assimilated – if we’d become so attuned to each other that our life forces merged – his reaper powers would become muted, and he would never again be able to function as a soul bearer. So in saving me, had he sacrificed his own desire to once again escort souls?>“Your place, then.” I paused. “Are you parked somewhere very close? And do you still keep your spare key taped under the rear wheel arch?”
“Yeah, but why…?” He stopped, and tucked a hand into his other pocket. What came out was a handful of metal shards. “Well, shit.”
I glanced down, amusement touching my lips. “There’s also the free willy problem.”
“I don’t see it as much of a problem, but I agree that others might.” He grinned. “So, do we make a mad dash and hope no one notices?”
“Wiring snakes aside, my clothes won’t stand up to a mad dash. I’ll get us out of here, but you’ll have to bring the car around to the building’s entrance.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He turned sideways and waved me forward grandly. “After you, my dear.”
We carefully retreated. Amaya’s steel was quivering by the time we made the stairs, so it was with some relief that I realized not only had the wiring in the stair shaft remained unaffected by the blast, but also by the magic.
When we reached the foyer, Jak pulled off the remains of his sweater and wrapped it around his waist, effectively hiding the ventilation spots around his balls.
I waited until he’d left, then said, “Reaper, show yourself.”
For several seconds there was no response; then heat washed across my skin and the reaper appeared. He wasn’t what I’d expected – although I’m not entirely sure what I had been expecting.
I mean, he, like Azriel, was of medium height, with warm brown skin and mismatched blue eyes, but his hair was a rich honey color rather than black, and there was a multitude of scars crisscrossing his chest and well-muscled arms. Another scar stretched from just below his right temple to his chin. He also bore two swords rather than one.
What surprised me, though, was his expression. It was positively hostile.
“What do you wish?” His voice was cold. Unforgiving.
I eyed him warily. “Do you intend to intervene if I get into trouble?”
“I am here to keep you safe until the keys are found,” he said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Meaning, I suspected, that he would keep his distance and be totally unsociable. Azriel might have done the latter when he’d first appeared, but never the former. “What of Azriel?”
He crossed his arms. “We all bear the name of Azriel to those of flesh.”
Animosity practically oozed from his pores. Why? What in the hell was going on? “You know who I mean.”
“Perhaps I do. And perhaps it is none of your business.”
“But it is my business. I don’t —”… want my child growing up like I did – not knowing anything about his father. But I swallowed the words, not wanting to admit something that personal to a stranger – especially such a hostile one.
Besides, it was something I should have thought about before I’d banished Azriel – and it was yet another reason to call him back. I added, “I just want to know he’s okay.”
“He lives. Anything more you have no need nor right to know.”
The urge to smack this particular reaper was strong enough that I actually clenched my fists. But I very much suspected that would not be a good move. He was angry enough to stab me with his swords and claim provocation to higher powers. “Why the attitude, reaper? What the hell have I done to you?”
“What have you done?” He shook his head, as if in disbelief. “Duty is all to those of us who guard, and duty unfinished is a crime against all.”
Meaning my Azriel was in trouble. Serious trouble. My gut twisted at the thought, but even so, anger flared. “What of the way he failed me? He forced me —”
I cut the rest of the sentence off. I was talking to air anyway. The reaper had disappeared.