“Good.” I spun on my heel and headed for the door.
But as I reached for the handle, he added, “I told you once that reapers are sexual beings, that we mingle energies and recharge ourselves with other energy beings.”
I paused, my fingers still on the door handle as I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes, so?”
His expression was as remote as ever. “So, we can only recharge with those who possess a harmonious frequency, and such compatibility is not widespread. When a connection is found, it is to be cherished.”
I frowned. “I’m not getting the link between this and what we were discussing.”
“The connection,” he said softly, “is the fact that I can recharge with you.”
I blinked. To say I was surprised was an understatement. Hell, I was flesh and blood, and he was energy. How was something like that even possible?
“I’m not a reaper. Im nreaper.ll never be a reaper.”
“No, you are not.”
My confusion deepened. “So what exactly are you trying to say?”
“Nothing. I merely explain what you see as unreasonable behavior.” He hesitated, and something flashed through his eyes, something that resembled pain. “I once had a recharge companion, but she was killed while escorting a soul through the dark portals.”
“I’m sorry—”
“There is no need for your sorrow. She died long ago, and was not my Caomh. While I regret her passing, it was not a life-altering event.”
Caomh was the reaper equivalent of a life mate if I’d understood the little Azriel had said about them. “So, is the fact that you can recharge through me a sign that the assimilation threat is greater than you were admitting?”
“No. I am, as I said, merely explaining why I react to Lucian’s presence in your affections.”
Because he wanted to protect something that was rare and precious in his world. And yet, at the same time, he was desperate to avoid it because he feared that it might cloud his judgment when it came to his task here. No wonder he seemed all over the place when it came to the two of us.
“What happens to reapers who do not find someone who is compatible energy wise?”
He shrugged. “Their life span is shortened. Even energy beings eventually need some means of sustaining themselves.”
“So recharging is as much about food as sex?”
“Yes.”
“Then how did you survive so long without your recharge partner?”
“I survive because recharging for a reaper is not the everyday necessity that it is for flesh-and-blood beings. We can go eons before the lack affects us.”
Thank god I wasn’t a reaper, then, because I actually enjoyed the daily necessity of food and sex.
“Look, I’m sorry you’ve been put in this position, Azriel, but I can’t stop living my life because you and I share what is rare in your world—especially when it’s something you fear will endanger us both.”
“I understand this now and, as I said, I will not mention it again.” He hesitated briefly, and again emotion flashed through his eyes. This time, though, I couldn’t really define what it was. “I just wanted to explain why I react as I do.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “But you haven’t actually explained why you can recharge with me, when I’m not a full energy being.”
“No.”
I waited for him to continue, but when it became obvious he wouldn’t, I turned and walked out of the room.
It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, given that all I really wanted to do was to wrap myself in Azriel’s arms and let the rest of the world go to hell.
Which was still a very real possibility if we didn’t get to the remaining keys first.
I was half an hour late by the time I got to Lucian’s. Even though we’d been going against most of the traffic to get into the city, it was still peak hour, and that generally meant madness no matter which side of the road you were on.
I climbed out of the taxi and stared up at the old Victorian building. There were still workmen on-site, despite the fact it was nearing five thirty. Maybe they were making use of daylight savings and trying to get ahead of schedule. My gaze swept the top floor, but I wasn’t sure what I was searching for. The windows were covered by heavy plastic, so even if Lucian had been standing at one of them, I wouldn’t have been able to see him.
I took a deep breath, then released it slowly, but it didn’t do much to ease the tension slithering through me. And standing here wasn’t doing a whole lot for it, either. I waited for a tram to pass, then crossed the road and made my way through the scaffolding into his building.
The old lift rattled upward and came to a bouncing halt at the top floor. The doors groaned open, but it took me several seconds before I could force myself out.
And I wasn’t entirely sure whether the reluctance stemmed from not wanting to meet with the dark sorceress or not wanting to have my suspicions about Lucian confirmed.
Damn it, I liked sex. I especially liked having sex with Lucian. I didn’t want a return to the nun-like state I’d been in before this madness had all begun.
Of course, confirmation that he’d placed a compulsion spell on me wasn’t exactly a deal breaker, but it would worry me. If he was being dishonest about that, then what the hell else was he being dishonest about?
I walked through the clouds of dust that filled the room, my footsteps echoing softly in the vast emptiness. There were no workmen on this floor, just the sound of their jackhammers and whatnot echoing up from the floors below. Lucian’s lemongrass and suede scent filled the sub-layers within the dusty air, but it was entwined with an energy that was uneasy and shadowed. His dark sorceress was here.
I snuck under a dustcover and entered the kitchen. Except for the addition of four folding chairs, the room hadn’t changed since the last time I’d been here. Lucian and Lauren stood near the chairs, but there was nothing relaxed about either of them. In fact, the heat in Lauren’s cheeks and her sharp gestures very much suggested I’d walked in on the middle of an argument. Hell, Lucian was all but hissing in her face.
And yet, something in the way they stood—in their very closeness—was oddly intimate.
Unfortunately, thanks to all the noise the builders were making, I caught only a couple of chopped-up sentences of his conversation with the sorceress—it means nothing, I will have my revenge regardless.
And while Lucian had made no secret of either aim, I had to wonder why he was now saying those words to a sorceress he claimed to barely know.
Because he is a liar. And have no doubt that he {doud to ba will not only lie, but cheat, steal, and kill to gain what he wants. Azriel could have been talking about the weather, for all the emotion he showed, yet we both knew that was as far from the truth as you could get. What we cannot be truly sure of yet is what, exactly, he wants.
He says revenge, and that’s the one thing I truly do believe he’s being honest about.
Perhaps.
And perhaps he was just incapable of seeing the forest for the trees where Lucian was concerned.
That is an incongruous statement.
But true.
Possibly.
As I drew closer, Lucian swung around and gave me a wide grin of greeting. Any sign of anger had completely disappeared. My gaze flicked briefly from his face to Lauren’s. She looked regal and composed—a woman certain of her place and power rather than one who’d seemed ready to tear eyeballs out just moments ago.
“You’re late,” Lucian said, the amusement in his eyes at odds with the rebuke in his words. “I was beginning to think you’d had second thoughts.”
“Just because I’m here doesn’t mean I don’t.”
“Of course.”