Yes, he could have. But I’d known that he wouldn’t, not once he had the scent of a good story in his nostrils.
He reached up and caught one of the tears on his fingertips. “You’ve cried enough tears over me, Risa. I don’t deserve these any more than I deserved your love —” He hesitated, his face twisting, his breath becoming little more than short, shuddering gasps for air.
A sob tore up my throat. I bit my lip, and somehow held it back. “The ambulance is coming, Jak. Just hold on.”
It would be too late. I knew it, he knew it, but I didn’t know what else to say. So I squeezed his hand lightly, watching as his breath became more and more labored, and his life poured over our twined fingers to soak into the carpet underneath him.
“God,” he somehow croaked, “this is a bitch. The story of a lifetime in my grasp and I’ll never —”
The rest of his words were cut off by a gasp. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and his breathing stopped.
The sob tore free. “Good-bye, Jak.” I kissed his warm lips gently. “I hope both love and the story of the century find you in your next life.”
My tears splashed across his face as I sat back and, just for a moment, it looked like he was also crying. Gossamer tendrils began to rise from his body. His soul, ascending. The winged reaper reached out one hand. Jak’s soul moved toward her, and together they moved on.
I briefly closed my eyes and swiped at the tears with my nonbloody hand. While I wanted to do nothing more than bawl like a baby, now was not the time. I took a deep, shuddery breath, and said, “Who was the reaper?”
“My sister.” Azriel’s voice was without emotion, but his surprise echoed through me. Surprise, and something else. Something that was close to regret. “I did not think anyone would answer – especially not someone from my family.”
“Why not?” My gaze met his. “It is you who caused the estrangement, not them.”
“It was mutual, Risa. My decision to seek revenge for my friend’s death brought shame on them.” He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, even though – from the little he’d told me – families were a big part of a reaper’s life. And yet I knew he didn’t regret either his decision or his subsequent actions. But it was those actions that had made him Mijai – it was his punishment for breaking reaper rules and taking a life before its time.
And now, because he’d shared his life force with me, he would remain a Mijai for all eternity, until death overtook him.
“My relationship with my family is not something we should be discussing now,” he continued softly. “The police are near. We should go.”
Even as he said that, the distant wail of sirens began to cut across the steady murmur of traffic moving past the building. I sighed and pushed to my feet. “No. I want to question the vampire first.”
He frowned. “I can pull whatever information you need from his mind.”
“But that won’t give us a record of confession, and I want to start protecting my ass against Hunter.”
That’s if he could incriminate her. She was a powerful telepath, and could easily have placed a block around the vampire’s thoughts, preventing him from ever mentioning her part in Jak’s death.
I glanced one more time at Jak’s motionless body, whispered a final good-bye, then dug out my phone and hit the Record button as I walked back to the foyer.
She has not placed a block on his thoughts, Azriel said, appearing by my side again. I can feel none of her taint in his mind.
I glanced at him. Which is odd. I know Hunter is head of the Directorate and therefore able to squash any investigation, but surely even she wouldn’t want the questions her involvement in Jak’s death would raise.
You accord her human thought processes, and that is something she long ago abandoned. Azriel’s mind voice was thick with contempt. Besides, she would not think us capable of catching her killer. He is not a Cazador, but he is very skilled in killing. Do not step too close or give him the opportunity to attack.
I wasn’t planning to. I took several photos of the vampire – noticing in the process that Amaya didn’t show up in any of them – then tucked my phone into the purse’s front pocket, out of sight, but still close enough to record everything said.
“Okay, mystery man,” I said, “unless you want some serious damage done to your back, you’d better stop faking unconsciousness and start talking.”
There was no response, which wasn’t really surprising. Hunter wouldn’t have sent a fool to do her dirty work.
Amaya, twist a little closer to his spine.
Her chuckle – which could be described only as both gleeful and bloodthirsty – ran across the back of my thoughts as her blade did a slow circle in his flesh. Blood spurted, and the vampire hissed – a venomous sound if I’d ever heard one. He looked at me, face bloody and eyes narrowed. There was no pain in those black depths, no fear. Just fury. And the promise of death should I make one careless move.
“One last chance to start answering my questions, then I’ll sever your damn spine.” My voice was cold and flat. One look at his expression – or lack thereof – was enough to tell me I could not show any sort of emotion to this man. He was the sort to take it as weakness.
“What do you want?” His voice was controlled, even. One tough vampire, obviously.
“Everything.” I crossed my arms. “Your name, and the name of the person who sent you here to kill Jak.”