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Because it wasn’t a man, like I’d been expecting. And—for one fleeting moment—she seemed very familiar. But before I could figure out who it was she reminded me of, she turned fully around and the moment was gone. All I saw was a stranger.

She was a tall, full-bodied—almost matronly—woman, with angular features and dark hair cut close to her head. Her nose was large and Roman, and gave her an arrogant air. But it was her eyes that sent shivers skating across my skin. They were a blue so pale it was almost impossible to separate the iris from the white. And in those pale depths, eons of knowledge seemed to glow.

Enough knowledge to steal a portal key, perhaps? Maybe, just maybe.

And yet this wasn’t the person who had stolen the key from under our noses. Not because the person who’d taken it had been a man—in truth, gender could temporarily be altered, whether by a glamour or by more basic means such as makeup and wigs. It was more that she didn’t feel the same. The man—the sorcerer—who had taken the key held an energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. This woman didn’t, although she didn’t exactly feel clean, either. There was a definite taint to the energy that poured off her, but it was more an uneasy vibration of something not quite right than anything truly dark.

“Risa.” Lucian stepped in front of me, effectively blocking my view of the stranger. “You look divine, as usual.”

“It’s just a black dress, and there’s very little flesh on show.”

And for a very good reason—I still had too many bruises. Old ones, as well as the new one my father had given me. Divine didn’t give me enough coverage; this simple shift, with its high neckline, did.

“Ah, but it skims your curves delightfully, and teases the imagination. That is extremely sexy to those with good imaginations.” He kissed both cheeks, every action overly polite.

I raised an eyebrow in silent query. He grinned and said in a low voice, “You did warn me I needed to be on my best behavior if I ever wanted to get into your bed again.”

“Yes, but I didn’t exactly expect such immediate and polite compliance.”

“Why not? It is, after all, to my benefit if I do.” He swung around, offered me an arm, then said in a more normal voice, “Let me introduce you to our guest.”

He escorted me toward the bar. The stranger’s gaze flickered down my body and it felt like I was standing there naked, being judged inside and out. Her expression seemed to say I’d been found wanting. And that, unsurprisingly, was something of a relief. The last thing I wanted was to attract the interest of someone who dealt with the dark forces of this world on any level other than that of hunting th Cof t tem.

Not that the man who did hunt them had been sighted for the last few hours. Which suggested Azriel had taken to heart my snarky wish that they’d all leave me in peace and was keeping watch from a distance rather than up close and personal.

Lucian waved a hand in the stranger’s direction. “Risa Jones, Lauren Macintyre.”

“Evening.” Lauren’s voice was mellow and soft, the opposite of what I’d been expecting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jones.”

She held out her hand. My pause was brief, but nevertheless there, and something flickered through her eyes. Not amusement. Something deeper. Darker.

The fingers that wrapped around mine were long and warm, her grip strong. But there was nothing untoward in her touch, no dark shimmer or foul feel, despite that flicker in her eyes and the vibrations that continued to roll off her.

“Would you like a drink?” Lucian walked around the bar. “We have wine, beer, and champagne.”

“Champers, please.” I propped on a barstool and returned Lauren’s gaze steadily. “I’m gathering Lucian has told you the reason I wished to see you?”

A small smile touched her lips, though little amusement reached her ice-colored eyes. “A woman who gets straight down to business. I like that.”

“I told you she was a no-nonsense person.” Lucian slid a glass of bubbly toward me, then leaned on the bar.

Desire slithered through me, quick and hungry. I took a drink and tried to keep my attention on the sorcerer, not the lover.

And wondered, even as I did so, why the hell he affected me so strongly. He might be Aedh, and able to ensnare lovers with just a kiss, but this was something else. Something that was almost darker.

And that was worrying.

“Indeed,” Lauren said. “So tell me, what do you think of dark sorcerers?”

“My personal opinion is that you should all be dumped in the deepest, darkest hole in hell and forgotten about.” My shrug was casual, but tension rode me. I couldn’t be anything less than honest, even though she was obviously ready to walk, given the slightest reason, and being honest might well give her that reason. “I’m afraid I’ve seen too much pain and catastrophe caused by your kind to want anything else.”

“And yet here you are, wanting my help.”

“Just because I hate what you do doesn’t mean I won’t use you if I need to.”

White teeth flashed in what I presumed was a grin, though it was an oddly unsettling one. “If you had answered any other way—if you had been less than honest—I would have walked out the door.”

“Then thank god for honesty.” I contemplated her over the rim of the champagne glass. “So, back to my original question—did Lucian fill you in on why we wanted to speak to you?”

“Yes.” The amusement died from her lips. “I know of the reapers—one such as Co< I cannot help but be aware of them. However, I did not know there were beings called Aedh who once manned the gates to heaven and hell. Or that some fool wants the gates of hell opened permanently.”

That raised my eyebrows. “Don’t you trade with hellkind?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean I want all hell to break loose here on earth. If demons were as common as ants, it would destroy my business.”

I snorted softly. Consorting with demons was a business, was it? “Then you also know why I need your help.”

She nodded. “However, we are talking about a device created by beings who aren’t of this world. I will need to get the feel of it before I can say whether I could help you or not.”

“That’s going to be a bit hard, given that it’s woven into the fabric of my heart.”

Lauren gave me a cool smile. “I did not mean that in the literal sense.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I simply need to touch you. Stand up.”

I took a large gulp of champagne, then did so. She pressed her hand under my left breast, the coolness of her long fingers sending goose bumps skittering across my skin. There was nothing sexual in her touch, nothing dark or uneasy, and yet all of those things slid through me.

Lauren closed her eyes. For several minutes, she neither moved nor breathed, although she obviously was breathing, since otherwise she’d have passed out.

Then she retracted her touch and opened her eyes, a frown creasing her smooth features. “The device is very powerful. I’m not entirely sure if it could be stopped from functioning for any length of time.”

“Damn.” I sat back on my chair and met Lucian’s gaze. “It was worth a shot, I guess.”

“Young woman, you weren’t listening.” Her soft voice held more than a hint of rebuke. “I said I couldn’t stop it for any length of time. Meaning, it might just be possible to stop it for brief minutes.”

“A few minutes is better than nothing.” I hesitated. “But whether we could use it would depend on just what it takes to achieve that.”

Her gaze slid down my length. Horror swamped me. Not that, I thought. Anything but that. Or blood.