surged, sharp and almost bitter in thesmall room, and in the space between Azriel’s hands pictures began to flow—flickering images that didn’t move quite fast enough to blur—meaning the gist of his death, all the blood and gore and body bits flying, was there to see in living color.
I bit my lip, swallowing heavily against the bile that rose in my throat. When the images finally died, I sighed in silent relief. Azriel removed his hands but didn’t immediately get up. He bowed his head for a moment and spoke, the words musical and oddly captivating. Saying a prayer for the soul that had already moved on.
Finally, he rose. “It is definitely a Rakshasa, and that really is not good news.”
Considering the way fate had been treating us of late, it wasn’t like I was expecting good news. “Why?”
“Because as shape-shifters, they are notoriously hard to track down and even more difficult to kill.”
“Fabulous.” Not.
What about Valdis and Amaya?
I added silently, not wanting Hunter to know about the swords.
In theory, demons and spirits are of a similar nature,
he said.
If the swords can destroy one, they should be able to destroy the other.
But you’ve never had reason to test it?
Spirits are of this world, and therefore generally not the concern of Mijai.
What if they venture onto the fields between the worlds?
Then maybe. But they rarely do and, even then, it is only ever onto the paene.
Which was the shadowy divide between this worldand the next. “So is there anything that kills them for sure?”
He hesitated. “Most dark spirits are dispelled by sunlight, which is why they hunt by night.”
“Meaning we have to capture the fucking thing before we can kill it? How the hell are we going to do that?”
“White ash and silver hold dangerous energies to the spirit kind. It might be possible to cage the Rakshasa with either until the morning comes.”
“Unfortunately, I’m part were. I can’t handle silver without it burning me.”
“White ash, then.”
I wrinkled my nose. It’d be my luck that white ash would do jack squat and I’d be left wishing I had silver. I studied the body for a moment, then frowned. “There’s one thing I don’t get. I can understand the Rakshasa going after the vampires who caused the deaths of those in the large feeding room, but why now? These deaths have been happening for years.”
He shrugged. “I can’t answer that because I do not know enough about the Rakshasa. But it is possible the anger and need for revenge were not strong enough to be a serious draw to dark energies until now.”
An unsettling thought stirred. I studied him for a moment, then said, “So does that mean you and I could be serious draws for darker energies? I mean, you’ve tasted revenge, and I’m currently chasing it.”
He hesitated. “Darker energies, no. Darker fates, perhaps.”
Trepidation tripped through me. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning, my fate was decided the moment I was assigned this task. Yours, however, is not so clear.”
“I thought your becoming a Mijai was the end result of your revenge. Are you suggesting there’s more to it?”
Again he hesitated. “I will never be as I was, thanks to my actions on this plane.”
For some odd reason, I had the feeling he was talking about a future action rather than a past one, but his expression—or lack of it—told me I wasn’t about to get any more information out of him.
“Then why is my fate so unclear? And does it mean I might or might not be punished, even if I do get my revenge?”
“It means I do not always have the answers you need. This is one of those times, simply because there are still too many variables.”
And that, I thought, might not have been a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either. He knew far more than he was letting on when it came to my fate.
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise or acknowledgment; I wasn’t sure which. It was frustrating, to say the least, but it
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