Darkness Unmasked (DA 5) (5 page)

“No. I mean, I have a double date I need to get out of, remember.”

I chuckled softly. “Think of your mother’s wrath, and—as they say in the classics—suck it up, princess.”

“Some help you are,” he muttered. “The rates are going up next time you want me to do something.”

“You’d be bored to death inside a week if we weren’t bugging you.”

“That,” he said grimly, “is undoubtedly true. Think of me suffering while you’re off enjoying yourself somewhere tonight.”

“Tell you what—I’ll send a bottle of Bollinger for you to drown your after-date sorrows in.”

“At least
that
would give me something to look forward to.” His sigh was overly dramatic. “Chat to you later.”

He hung up. Two seconds later, my phone beeped, an indication that Stane’s information had arrived. The storage locker was located in Clifton Hill and wasn’t all that far away from Stane’s shop. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, then locked the front door of Wolfgang’s house and met Azriel’s gaze. “Can you take us there now?”

He stepped close again and wrapped his arms around my waist. I resisted the temptation to snuggle deeper into his arms, and a heartbeat later we were zipping back through the gray fields.

We reappeared near the intersection of Hoddle Street and the Eastern Freeway exit. The self-storage premises couldn’t be missed—it was a three-story brick building that had been painted in orange and blue stripes, with a huge white lock on the front of it.

“How do you plan to access this locker?” Azriel said.

I scanned the building and noted the cameras placed strategically around the perimeter. Undoubtedly, it would be a similar story inside, and that meant it might be wise to indulge in a little face-shifting. If Genevieve Sands
was
connected to Nadler, then they might be keeping an eye on who went near their storage locker. It wouldn’t be hard to do—anyone with the right sort of knowledge would be able to hack into the security system. The last thing I wanted was for them to see how close we were. We didn’t need another possible lead closing down before it led to anything—or anyone.

“I guess how we approach it depends on who is at the desk,” I said eventually. “If it’s male, I’ll flirt. If it’s female, you flirt.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The last time we did something like that, you stomped out in what I believe you would call a snit.”

“It wasn’t a snit,” I replied, amused. “It was mere annoyance. You were flirting with a stranger at a time you were refusing to do
anything
with me.”

“I am still not doing anything with you.”

“That’s true.” I gave a mock sigh. “God, it’s been so long, I can hardly even remember what a kiss is, let alone sex.”

“Then perhaps,” he said, and stepped closer, “I should remind you.”

His lips met mine, and though the kiss was little more than a tease, it was also the sweetest damn thing I’d ever experienced. It made me feel higher than a kite and warmer than the sun, cherished and oddly alive all in one quicksilver moment. And I sighed in frustration when he pulled back.

“Damn it, Azriel—”

He pressed a finger against my lips, silencing my protest. “What you desire and what your body is capable of are two very different things right now.” He gave me a lopsided smile that was oddly endearing. “I want what you want, believe me, but I am not willing to tax your strength any more than necessary. And, right now, that’s what we would be doing.”

“The whole point of sex
is
to be taxed,” I replied, exasperated. “If you’re not boneless and replete afterward, then you haven’t put enough effort into it.”

“What effort can you put into it when you are all but exhausted?” He raised an eyebrow, expression amused. “Trust me, given the risks involved, I want nothing more than your maximum.”

I laughed softly, then rose on tiptoes and dropped another quick kiss on his lips. “Believe me, when you give in—and you will give in, reaper—I’ll give you one hundred percent, exhausted or not.”

“A promise I will hold you to.”

“As long as you
do
hold me, I don’t care.” I reluctantly returned my attention to the building in front of us. “Can’t you just pull the information about the storage locker from the mind of whoever is manning the reception desk?”

“I could, but our sorcerer appears to have telepathic abilities, remember, and while it is unlikely he would sense any psychic intrusion on my part, it is a risk we should not take, given he is most certainly aware of my presence on this quest.”

I frowned. “Does that mean clouding her perception is out?”

“No. Clouding is more a sensory intrusion than a mental one, and therefore it is safer.”

“Then I guess you’d better make whoever is inside think we’re cops.”

“That I can do.” He placed his fingers under my elbow and lightly guided me across to the thick shrubs that lined one side of the nearby parking lot. “If you wish to alter your facial shape, you will not be seen here by either the cameras or those driving by.”

“Good idea.” While Azriel might be able to stop people from noticing his comings and goings, the last thing we needed was some poor driver spotting what I was doing and having a freak-out. While humanity was as aware of shape-shifters as they were vamps and werewolves, very few knew of the existence of us face-shifters.

I flexed my fingers, then closed my eyes and pictured my own face—from the silver of my hair, the lilac of my eyes, the slight uptilt of my nose and defined cheekbones, to the fullness of my lips. Then I replaced it with more rounded features, thinner lips, and very short black hair. A black so rich it shone blue in the sunlight.

Once that image was frozen in my mind, I reached for the magic. It exploded around me, thick and fierce, as if it had been contained for far too long. It swept through me like a gale, making my muscles tremble and the image waver. I frowned, holding the image fiercely against the storm. Power began to pulsate, burn, and change me. My skin rippled as my features altered, and my hair suddenly felt shorter and somehow finer. As the magic faded, my knees buckled, my legs suddenly weak.

Azriel gripped my arm and saved me from falling.

“Damn,” I muttered, leaning against him briefly. “That never seems to get any easier.”

“Given you continue to function barely above exhaustion, it is unlikely to.”

“It’s not like I can do a whole lot about that,” I muttered, and forced my knees to lock. “What I need is for the bad guys to stop creating havoc for a month or so.”

“A situation that is unlikely. I am actually amazed that your father has let the lack of progress on finding the second key slide for as long as he has.”

“He could hardly force me to look when I was all but dead in the hospital. Even he isn’t that callous.”

“I would not be so sure of that.”

Actually, I wasn’t. My father had shown a decided lack of parental care up until this point, and I had no doubt that lack would continue.

“Ready to go?” Azriel added.

I took another of those deep, steadying breaths that really didn’t help all that much, then nodded. He touched a hand to my back again and guided me toward the front door, his fingers spearing warmth into my spine despite the thickness of my sweater.

A deeper, more resonant energy swirled as we entered the building—Azriel, touching the receptionist’s mind to alter her perception.

So what will she see us as?

Police, as you wished.

Good.
There were no cameras in this particular area, so the lie wouldn’t immediately be uncovered.

The receptionist gave us a cheerful smile. “And what can I do for you both on this rather chilly autumn morning?”

“I’m afraid we’re here on official business.” Azriel stopped in front of the desk and gave her a warm smile.

Her
smile grew. So much for him not flirting. “And what business would that be?”

“We need to know if there’s a Genevieve Sands renting a storage unit here.”

“Just a moment, and I’ll check.” She glanced down at her computer, quickly typing, then said, “Yes, she is. It’s one of the larger ground-floor units.”

“Would we be able to look at it?”

She frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in without a search warrant—”

“That’s okay,” I said, noting with amusement—and perhaps a touch of annoyance—that she barely even glanced at me. “We just want to inspect its location for the moment.”

“I can’t see the harm in that.” She half shrugged. “It’s unit G-18. I’ll buzz you through the security door; then follow the corridor down and around to your right.”

“Thanks, Maggie.” Azriel gave her the sort of smile that would have melted the iciest heart. This poor woman had no hope whatsoever, and practically puddled on the seat. “It’s appreciated.”

“You’re very welcome,” she all but stammered.

Amusement glittered in Azriel’s bright eyes as he turned away. I followed, knowing I probably could have danced around naked and she wouldn’t have even noticed. I shook my head in amusement.
You, reaper, are incorrigible.

He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised, and the laughter I’d caught earlier was now richer in the depths of his eyes.
And why would you say that?

Because every time you have to cloud the mind of a pretty woman, you flirt.

On the contrary, I am merely polite.

I snorted softly.
Polite doesn’t come in the form of a high-wattage, sexy-as-hell smile.

His amusement deepened, and it shimmered inside me, warm and enticing.
So you think my smile is sexy?

I rolled my eyes and nudged him with my shoulder.
Fishing for compliments, are we?

No. I merely ask a logical question.
The security door buzzed as we neared it. He caught it with his fingertips, opening it and then ushering me through.
It is the resonance of energy that attracts reapers rather than anything as fleeting as an expression
.

I followed the receptionist’s directions, making a mental note of the regularly spaced security cameras, then glanced at him with raised eyebrows and said,
Does that mean you don’t think my physical form is attractive?

Who is fishing for compliments now?

I grinned.
Hey, it’s not like you throw them around with great abandon.

No,
he agreed, and touched my back again, his palm still light against my spine yet somehow oddly possessive. Or maybe that was merely wishful thinking on my behalf.
And yes, I find your physical form attractive. But it is the being within that flesh, the timbre and music of all that you are, that is the most dangerous to someone like me.

Because of the threat of assimilation. It was a sobering reminder of the risk we were taking, and I had to wonder whether it was actually worth it.

But how could I be around him and not want him? That seemed as impossible to me now as it would be to stop breathing.

“Indeed,” he agreed softly. Almost grimly. Then he motioned with his free hand. “The locker we seek is just ahead.”

I slowed as we neared it. It looked like every other unit in this area in that it was fronted by a double-sized roller door that was padlocked at either edge. I’m not sure why I’d been expecting something else—but maybe it was simply the fact that Nadler didn’t seem to do
anything
that could be considered ordinary.

Of course, Genevieve Sands might
not
be connected to him in any way—but I seriously doubted that was the case.

“There is magic here.”

Azriel stopped in front of the unit and crossed his arms. His expression gave little away, but blue fire flickered down the sides of his sword, radiating an energy that was oddly tense. Valdis—the name of the demon trapped within the sword, giving the steel a life and energy of its own—was as ready for action as her master.

I had a similar sword strapped to my back, but Amaya was shadow-wreathed and invisible. The only time anyone was truly aware of her presence was when I slid her dark blade into their flesh—although she did have a tendency to scream for bloodshed, and generally at the most inappropriate times.

“But what sort of magic? Good or bad?” I stopped beside him and eyed the roller door dubiously. I couldn’t feel anything, but then, I wasn’t always sensitive to magic.

“Neither. In fact, it is almost Aedh-like in construction.”

I frowned. “The only Aedh we know who play around with magic are the Raziq, and I seriously doubt they’d be involved on
any
level with Nadler.”

“There is Lucian.”

I frowned. “Yeah, but he isn’t capable of magic.”

“That we know of.”

True. But surely to god
he
wasn’t linked to Nadler. Surely to god I hadn’t been
that
gullible.

Azriel, perhaps wisely, made no comment about that particular thought.

I studied the innocuous-looking door for several seconds, then carefully raised a hand. As my fingertips neared the metal, energy began to flow across them. As Azriel had said, it didn’t feel evil or dark, just wrong. It was also oddly similar to the magic in the circle of stones that had formed a protective barrier around the gateway Jak—my ex, and a reporter who was helping us—and I had discovered underground when we’d been searching for Nadler’s base of operations in West Street. And that certainly suggested I’d been right in suspecting a link between Genevieve Sands and Nadler himself. According to Ilianna—who wasn’t only my best friend but an extremely powerful witch—every spell was as individual as the person creating it. Two spells having the same sort of feel could only mean the same person was behind both.

“We need to get in there,” I said. “We need to uncover what they might be hiding.”

“I do not think that would be a wise move.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“For one, the magic involved prevents me from entering, and two, I would think crossing the threshold would notify Sands, or Nadler, or whoever else might be the true owner of this container.”