“But you’ve more chance of succeeding than I do. And I really need to know who these people are, because they keep—”

He moved with lightning speed, straddling my body and kissing me fiercely.

“Darling girl,” he said, after a long and glorious kiss, “you talk entirely too much.”

“But I need answers,” I said, resisting his attempts to lay me back on the lush green grass that carpeted the jungle room. “And I’m going to be late for work.”

“Oh, you’re going to be very late,” he murmured, and kissed me again.

The fight in me quickly fled, as did all thoughts of work.

And he was right. I was very late for work.

The place was packed by the time I got there. Thursday nights were always busy, with wolves getting into party mode and gearing up for a weekend of fun and games at the nearby clubs. After dumping my stuff in the upstairs locker room, I began pitching in, going wherever I was needed, be it helping to serve at the bar, clearing tables, or carting food out to patrons.

The time slipped by quickly and, before I knew it, it was after midnight. As the girls on the next shift came in, I tugged off my apron and headed into the kitchen. Tao was scraping the grill clean, getting it ready for the next chef.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes tired but his smile wide. “That was a great night.”

“Yeah. I think you made Mrs. Lisborne’s week by giving her that peck on the cheek. It was all she could talk about for the next half hour.”

He chuckled softly. “And next week, she’ll bring in more of her friends to show off her pet chef.”

I grinned, even though she probably would do just that. The old dear had a crush a mile high on our brown wolf—and if she’d been any younger, she would have made a serious play for him. “I’ve got to go to my meeting. If I’m not back—or don’t ring—by three, come looking for me.”

The laughter faded from his expression. “Where is the meeting happening?”

“Sandpiper’s Inn, Charles Street, Seddon. I was warned to come alone, so don’t even think of following me. We need answers, Tao, and this may be the best way of getting them.”

“If it is your father who left the message, and not the idiots who have been hassling you …”

I didn’t answer that, simply because there was no answer. The reality was, it could be a trap. There was no saying that the notes and the Dušan had come from the same person, even if the packaging was similar.

“Did you manage to find out who delivered the packages?”

He screwed up his nose. “Yes and no. The same man delivered the parcel and the letter, but we checked the name listed on his ID tag with the company, and they’ve never heard of him. Stane’s using his image to run a license check through the Vic Roads computers and see if he can grab a match. But again, it could take a while.”

I sighed. “No surprise there. It seems to be the pattern with this case.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Ilianna said to be careful. She reckons the shit surrounding us is on the rise, and it’ll splatter all over you if you’re not extra cautious.”

I laughed softly. She did have a wonderful way with words. “Did she manage to get hold of her mom?”

“Dinner is arranged for tomorrow night. Carwyn is on the menu.” He grinned. “She’s forwarded a copy of the writing in the Dušan’s book, and has asked her mom if it’s possible to translate it.”

I hoped it could be, because I really needed to know what it said. Not that I didn’t trust Azriel; it was just that I had a suspicion he wasn’t telling me everything. About the book, about the Dušan, and about this whole situation.

I glanced at the clock and sighed again. “I’d better go, or else I’ll be late.” I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “See you at three.”

He touched my cheek lightly, his warm chocolate eyes filled with concern. “Make sure that you do.”

I smiled and headed up the back stairs to the locker area, grabbing my things before heading out. I’d parked in the Blue Moon’s underground lot rather than our restaurant’s parking area, not only because there’d be more people about but because security patrolled twenty-four/seven. Most of the Moon’s patrons were well behaved, but in any crowd there was always that one small group of folk who got their kicks out of causing trouble or destroying other people’s property. Or, in my case, putting bugs on vehicles.

By the time I got over to Seddon it was beginning to rain, making the streets slick and the night even more miserable. The Sandpiper’s Inn was situated in the center strip of shops, and there was a FOR LEASE sign out front. The bricks had been painted a dark red, the door and window frames were a gaudy faded gold, and the tattered remains of a swag valence decorated the inside of one of them. It reminded me more of a brothel than a restaurant.

There were no lights on, and no indication that anyone had been near the place for months. I drove on past, found a side street, then cruised into the lane behind the restaurant. I parked, then turned to study the rear of the building.

It wasn’t any more attractive from this angle. There were several windows, but each one was covered by rusting security bars and the glass behind them was smashed. Water poured from the corroded spouting and the wind tugged at the loose sheeting on the roof, filling the night with an eerie creaking.

I shivered, shoved my hands into my pockets, and tried to ignore the whisper that said I should have taken Tao up on his offer. I would have felt safer with him at my back.

I studied the back door. Like the windows, it was barred, but the metal around the lock was twisted and the door was slightly ajar. Another shiver stole across my body. Whoever had done that to the security door had been extremely strong. I just had to hope he or she wasn’t still in there.

But the night was clear of any scent other than the rain and the nearby trash cans. If there were shifters—or worse—nearby, then they’d used something to erase their smell.

I licked my lips and forced my feet forward. I paused at the door, one hand on the metal as I flared my nostrils, searching for any hint that something—or someone—was inside.

Again, there was nothing.

I released a shuddering breath, then carefully opened the door. The room beyond was small and dark, and smelled of piss and decay. I stepped inside, my nose wrinkling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness of the room.

There was dirt and garbage everywhere. Boxes of trash were piled up in one corner, while in the other was an old industrial washing machine that obviously held laundry long forgotten, if the smell was anything to go by.

I stepped through another door and found myself in a kitchen. The trash was thicker here, and the scent of decaying food matter was interspersed with rancid oil and urine. I had a suspicion the cause was either cats or possums. It had more of an animal tang than a human one.

I walked carefully through the mess and found a set of swinging doors at the far end. I had no sense that there was anyone waiting beyond these doors, and the only sound to be heard was the howl of the wind and the creak of loose roofing.

I flexed my fingers, then carefully pushed through into the next room. The light from the street filtered in through the dusty windows, creating two strips of brightness beyond which the shadows gathered. A few chairs and tables were stacked up along one wall, and along the other were a small reception desk and bar area. Beyond that, the room was empty. It also smelled a whole lot better.

I glanced at my watch. It was five past one, so whoever was supposed to meet me here was either delayed or not coming. The latter wouldn’t actually surprise me, given everything else that had gone wrong of late.

I walked around the room, keeping to the shadows and away from the squares of light. I stopped near one of the windows, which gave me a good view of both the kitchen door and the front door, and also gave me an exit—the window—if I needed it.

After another five minutes, an odd sense of awareness stole over me. I’d heard no one approach—no one beyond the occasional pedestrian on the pavement outside—and the air remained clear of any scent other than the overripe smells drifting out from the other rooms. But in the midst of all that came a wash of heat. Not body heat, but rather the heat of a powerful presence. There was an Aedh close by, and he was in spirit form rather than physical.

I licked my lips, then said softly, “I know you’re here. Show yourself.”

“That is not possible,” came the measured, cultured reply. It whispered around me, familiar in a weird sort of way.

Because it sounded like me. A male version of me.

My pulse quickened. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am. You can feel it.”

“I can feel an Aedh. Of more than that, I can’t be certain.” I paused, then added, “After all, it’s not like I’ve ever had any interaction with the man whose seed gave me life.”

“Under normal circumstances, you would not be interacting with me now. But these are far from normal circumstances.”

“Yeah, you’re trying to permanently close the gates between the light and the dark path, and thereby bring about the destruction of life as we know it.”

He paused, and a sense of surprise rolled across the darkness. I wished he’d show himself, because I really did want to see the man who was my father. But I guess I could also understand caution. He had no more idea of whether he could trust me than I did of him.

“That is not entirely true,” he said. “Yes, I am a Raziq, and yes, we were working on keys that could be used to close the portals, but that is not my purpose now.”

“Then what is your purpose?” I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall. Although the pose appeared casual, every muscle quivered, ready to launch into fight mode should the need arise.

Not that I really expected to be able to prevail against a full Aedh.

“I plan to stop them.”

“So you spent all that time with the Raziq making the keys, and now you’re hell-bent on stopping them? That doesn’t sound very logical to me.”

The heat of him was closer now. It spun around me—a warm, nonthreatening presence that nevertheless made my skin crawl because of the power behind it. Because there was no underlying sense of humanity. This was a being who wore flesh rarely and who had no love or understanding for those who possessed it full-time.

Which made me wonder why he was now trying to stop the Raziq.

“Magic alone works the portals, and it is because that magic can be corrupted that the keys were made. If magic wasn’t as intrinsic in the opening of the portals, then neither those on this plane nor anyone on the other could affect them.”

Which made basic sense, but it also meant the power of the gates lay in those keys rather than magic. And that seemed ultimately more dangerous to me.

“So why not simply destroy the keys yourself? If you helped make them, then you must know how to unmake them.”

“I do. The trouble is, the keys are on this plane, and I no longer can interact with this world.”

My eyes widened. “But aren’t you interacting with it now?”

“Not on a flesh level. That ability was torn from me when they discovered the part I played in the keys’ disappearance.”

“Meaning there’s more than one of you trying to destroy these keys?”

“No, but all Raziq have Razan, and mine hid the keys while I created a diversion.”

“So why not just ask them where they put the keys?”

“Because they are dead. They were under orders to destroy themselves should I not return by a certain time.”

Charming. But then, why would an Aedh care whether one of his servants lived or died? He could undoubtedly create more as needed. “And you couldn’t return because you were captive?”

“Precisely.”

“This plan of yours wasn’t really that well thought out, was it?” I said, slightly sarcastically.

“In any venture of worth, there is always an element of risk.”

The jury was still out on whether this venture was worth the risk. I wasn’t about to trust that he was telling the truth rather than twisting facts.

“So did all your Razan die?”

“No, I still have some who aid me, but they have no knowledge of the theft or the location of the keys.”

The odd emphasis on the word aid had my intuition tingling. “I hope it isn’t your Razan who have been attacking me and my friends.”

“No. I would not order that when I need your assistance.”

Which didn’t actually imply he would never do it. I contemplated the shadows for a moment, wishing he was visible, yet half glad he wasn’t. If I couldn’t see, I couldn’t be disappointed. And I couldn’t read the lies.

Why did I think there were lies?

Maybe it was just the whisper inside my head telling me it couldn’t be so simple. That there was more to his quest than what he was saying.

“Then why didn’t they destroy you when they discovered your part in the theft?”

“Because without me, they have no hope of finding the keys. So they imprisoned me, but not quite as successfully as they thought. I am free, but powerless to do anything more than conduct events.”

“Then why pull me into it if you have the Razan?”

“Because I used my blood to alter the form of the keys, and only one of my blood can find and destroy them. You are my only offspring, so the task must fall to you.”

“What happens if the keys are destroyed?”

He didn’t answer straightaway, and I had a sudden inkling that this was the crux. That he didn’t know what would happen.