around.”
“That would hardly be practical when we are not often of this world or flesh.”
A smile touched my lips. Again he didn’t seem to get the sarcasm, but I guess a being that was more energy than flesh—and who spent most of his time walking the twilight realm—didn’t have much call or experience with emotion of any kind.
“Then how am I supposed to contact you?”
“Simply call my name. I have been tuned to your Chi, and will hear your summons.”
So not only did I have a reaper following me about, but he’d been tuned to my Chi. Or life energy, as Ilianna preferred to call it. This day was going from bad to worse.
“And your name is …?”
“Azriel.”
I snorted softly. “Even I know that Azriel is the generic name all reapers go by.”
“It may be generic, but when you say it, you will be summoning me.”
“Because you’ve been tuned to me?”
“Yes.”
Great. Not . “Do you have another name?”
He hesitated. “Yes, but that is private. No guide or Mijai will ever tell you his true name.”
“Why?”
“Because names are things of power, and to give one freely would be placing yourself in another’s control.”
“So why even give yourselves a true name?”
“Having a family in which all are called Azriel would get a little confusing.”
Meaning reapers had family units? Interesting, given that the Aedh didn’t . “So where are you off to now, Azriel, if you’ve been assigned to follow me?”
“I will retreat to a viewing distance. It would be better for us both.”
It would be better for us both if he wasn’t following me at all , but that didn’t seem to be an option right now. “So you’re just going to sit back and watch? You’re not going to do anything else?”
“I am not here to interfere with your life or anything that happens to you,” he said softly. “I merely wait to see if your father will contact you.”
For how long? I wondered, but didn’t bother voicing the question simply because I doubted he would answer. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”
“Or not,” he said, and disappeared.
No one in the restaurant seemed to notice or care. He may have been visible to everyone, but there was obviously some sort of magic at work, because it was simply impossible for anyone to disappear in the middle of a crowded room like that and not have anyone notice.
I rose and headed out of the restaurant. It was still raining, so I flicked the collar of my jacket up and ran for the underground parking garage. After finding the ticket machine and paying, I headed for the stairs and walked down to sublevel two, my footsteps echoing sharply in the silence.
I’d parked my bike in the slots near the elevators, which were on the opposite side of the garage from the stairs. I waited for a car to cruise past, then stepped out, but as I walked through the half shadows, the awareness that I was not alone hit. Which, given this was a multistory underground parking lot, wasn’t exactly surprising. But the sense of wrongness that came with the realization was .
I glanced around. Cars were parked in silent rows and there was no one in immediate sight, walking either toward or away from them. The air was thick with the scents of dirt, oil, and exhaust fumes—aromas that seemed to be leaching from the concrete itself. There was nothing that suggested anything or anyone was near.
Yet someone was . The sensation of wrongness was getting stronger, crawling like flies across the back of my neck.
I’d lived with clairvoyance, warnings, and portents all my life. I wasn’t about to start ignoring them now.
I slowed my steps a little and flared my nostrils, drawing in more of the air and sorting through the flavors.
And I found him.
Or rather, them —because there wasn’t just one person nearby, but four. One ahead, one to the left, one to the right, and one attempting to sneak up behind me. Effectively, they had me boxed in, and you didn’t do that unless you
“That would hardly be practical when we are not often of this world or flesh.”
A smile touched my lips. Again he didn’t seem to get the sarcasm, but I guess a being that was more energy than flesh—and who spent most of his time walking the twilight realm—didn’t have much call or experience with emotion of any kind.
“Then how am I supposed to contact you?”
“Simply call my name. I have been tuned to your Chi, and will hear your summons.”
So not only did I have a reaper following me about, but he’d been tuned to my Chi. Or life energy, as Ilianna preferred to call it. This day was going from bad to worse.
“And your name is …?”
“Azriel.”
I snorted softly. “Even I know that Azriel is the generic name all reapers go by.”
“It may be generic, but when you say it, you will be summoning me.”
“Because you’ve been tuned to me?”
“Yes.”
Great. Not . “Do you have another name?”
He hesitated. “Yes, but that is private. No guide or Mijai will ever tell you his true name.”
“Why?”
“Because names are things of power, and to give one freely would be placing yourself in another’s control.”
“So why even give yourselves a true name?”
“Having a family in which all are called Azriel would get a little confusing.”
Meaning reapers had family units? Interesting, given that the Aedh didn’t . “So where are you off to now, Azriel, if you’ve been assigned to follow me?”
“I will retreat to a viewing distance. It would be better for us both.”
It would be better for us both if he wasn’t following me at all , but that didn’t seem to be an option right now. “So you’re just going to sit back and watch? You’re not going to do anything else?”
“I am not here to interfere with your life or anything that happens to you,” he said softly. “I merely wait to see if your father will contact you.”
For how long? I wondered, but didn’t bother voicing the question simply because I doubted he would answer. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”
“Or not,” he said, and disappeared.
No one in the restaurant seemed to notice or care. He may have been visible to everyone, but there was obviously some sort of magic at work, because it was simply impossible for anyone to disappear in the middle of a crowded room like that and not have anyone notice.
I rose and headed out of the restaurant. It was still raining, so I flicked the collar of my jacket up and ran for the underground parking garage. After finding the ticket machine and paying, I headed for the stairs and walked down to sublevel two, my footsteps echoing sharply in the silence.
I’d parked my bike in the slots near the elevators, which were on the opposite side of the garage from the stairs. I waited for a car to cruise past, then stepped out, but as I walked through the half shadows, the awareness that I was not alone hit. Which, given this was a multistory underground parking lot, wasn’t exactly surprising. But the sense of wrongness that came with the realization was .
I glanced around. Cars were parked in silent rows and there was no one in immediate sight, walking either toward or away from them. The air was thick with the scents of dirt, oil, and exhaust fumes—aromas that seemed to be leaching from the concrete itself. There was nothing that suggested anything or anyone was near.
Yet someone was . The sensation of wrongness was getting stronger, crawling like flies across the back of my neck.
I’d lived with clairvoyance, warnings, and portents all my life. I wasn’t about to start ignoring them now.
I slowed my steps a little and flared my nostrils, drawing in more of the air and sorting through the flavors.
And I found him.
Or rather, them —because there wasn’t just one person nearby, but four. One ahead, one to the left, one to the right, and one attempting to sneak up behind me. Effectively, they had me boxed in, and you didn’t do that unless you
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