But this was my father we were talking about. He was perfectly capable of tearing one or both of them apart in an instant.
I hoped to god that wasn’t what he was planning now.
My gaze met Ilianna’s, and in the green depths I saw fear and fury combined. She didn’t say anything – maybe she couldn’t – but her gaze flicked toward her mate. I stepped closer, and saw the luminous blue threads that had been wrapped around Mirri’s neck.
Only it wasn’t any type of thread found here on Earth. It was energy.
I stopped and stared. “What the hell have you done?”
“It is what you would call an insurance policy.” His voice was heavy with menace. “I have threatened the life of both the witch and the wolf, but it hasn’t appeared to make much difference to your actions —”
“My actions?” I all but exploded. “What about your fucking actions? If you’d been up front about what Lucian was and who he was working with, the damn sorcerer would not have grabbed the first key, nor would he have gained access to the second. That blame lays on your shoulders, not mine.”
“Indeed,” he continued darkly, as if I hadn’t spoken, “one could almost think you do not take my threat seriously.”
“That is not true —”
“And yet, you appear to fear the Raziq more than you do me. That cannot be allowed.”
I clenched my fingers against Amaya’s hilt, but resisted the urge to throw her into the haze of energy that was my father. I had no idea what that thread around Mirri’s neck was and, until I did, I had to practice restraint.
Thread bad, Amaya muttered.
I knew that without asking. Can you destroy it without hurting Mirri?
Know not, she replied. Taste first.
And if you taste it?
Kill might.
Mirri, or the thread?
Amaya hesitated. Both.
Then there’d be no tasting. “What the fuck have you done, Father?”
“If you wish this shifter to live, then you must not only retrieve the second key, but find the last one.”
“As I’ve repeatedly said, I can’t find the second key without your fucking help,” I spat back. “And I can hardly find the third key when you haven’t even told me where the fucking thing is.”
“I will send directions for the third key, and a means of getting into our temple rooms,” he said. “But the latter will require several hours to construct. You are not an initiate, so I will also have to create a means of circumventing that particular restriction. I suggest you use that time to search this plane for the sorcerer and the second key.”
“And if I don’t succeed in finding it, Mirri will die.” It was a statement, not a question. I don’t think I’ve hated anyone as much as I hated my father at that moment.
Except, perhaps, for Hunter.
“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…