Blood Heir (Aurelia Ryder, #1)(65)



“Okay,” I told him. “You can go.”

Cephus eyed me, glanced at Derek over his shoulder, looked at me again, grabbed the girl’s hand, and took off. We heard them stomping down the stairs all the way to the bottom.

“They’re really broken up about Jasper,” Derek said. “I can feel their grief.”

“You heard them. The man had trouble processing his feelings. Probably kept most people at a distance. Never formed strong bonds with his peers. His inner core wasn’t vibrating in tune to the celestial heartbeat.”

A gust of wind tore at my hair. The world turned dark. The storm was almost on top of us.

“How is the boy?” the massive werewolf next to me asked.

“I don’t know. They told me he is hanging in there. I saw him this morning. He looked like he was dying.” I really had to shut up.

“The offer of a good medmage still stands.”

“Thank you. If it’s possible, the Methodists will heal him. It bothers me. There are at least thirty minutes between White Street and St. Luke’s. They dragged a boy on a chain, and nobody fucking did anything about it. Why? Did the city go blind?”

“The city was always blind,” he said, his voice hard. “People don’t want to get involved. As long as it doesn’t touch them, they can pretend it’s not happening.”

People knew about his family and didn’t help. People saw me in the streets every day and didn’t help either.

We stood next to each other. The wind pulled at his fur.

“What happens when we find Pastor Haywood’s killer?” I asked.

“I’ll rip his heart out.”

It wasn’t a turn of phrase. He meant it.

“It won’t bring him back,” Derek continued. “It probably won’t make me feel better. But it must be done.”

“This is nasty and complicated,” I told him.

“My favorite.”

“There is an avatar involved.”

“I’ve met a few gods.”

“Not like this one. If I tell you to sit a fight out, will you do it?”

“Sure.”

Too easy. Sitting anything out wasn’t in his nature. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” I held my hand out. “Aurelia Ryder.”

Clawed fingers swallowed my hand. “Darren Argent.”

It sounded familiar. “Argent” meant silver. Many shapeshifters took new names when joining a new pack, and I knew several who chose “Argent” as a last name. Silver killed Lyc-V, the virus responsible for their existence, and they considered the name ironic. Not a name I would expect him to pick for himself.

Then again, “Aurelia” meant gold, and I chose it without considering its meaning. I wanted a name that reminded me of Julie, so one day I just looked at a list of Roman names and picked one that sounded pretty. Maybe I was reading too much into it.

We shook and let go.

“So, which of the four names Cephus mentioned rang a bell?” he asked.

“Mark Rudolph. He’s on the list of relic hunters Bishop Chao gave me.”

“Then we should pay him a visit.”

“Yes, we should. I’ll head down to the street,” I told him.

“Don’t want to stay and watch me change?” There was a hint of humor in his inhuman voice.

“No.”

“What if something attacks me while I’m getting dressed?”

I looked at the hodag head and then back at him. “Throw the head at them and scream for help. I’ll see you downstairs.”

I limped out of the building and whistled for Tulip.

Someone had turned the muscles of my legs into wet cotton. I had expended way too much energy dodging the hodag, and now my freshly regenerated body was making me pay for it. My thigh hurt like hell.

A wind gust hit me, tearing at my hair. Thunder rocked the world, the clouds broke open and rain drenched me, warm and heavy. I raised my arms, closed my eyes, and let it wash over me, wishing all my troubles would drain away with the water.

I could’ve stood under the rain forever.

The sound of Tulip’s hooves drew close and stopped.

According to his address, Mark Rudolph had done quite well for himself. He lived all the way in Mt. Paran-Northside, an affluent neighborhood with ten-thousand-square-foot mansions and home prices in the millions. If things had stayed the same since I left, that neighborhood was protected better than the White House. They hired off-duty PAD officers to patrol it and had their own private security force manning the perimeter wall and towers. Trying to get to the northern edge of Buckhead from here and then gain entry in this deluge was all but impossible.

I had to go home and try tomorrow.

At least I had a lead. My first real lead.

I opened my eyes. A fully human Derek stood right in front of me. His eyes were aglow, and he looked at me as if I were the thing he wanted most in the entire world.

I turned away from him and mounted. “The rain is too heavy. I’m going home.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.” I gave him my phone number. “Call me if anything serious happens.”

As I rode away, he was still standing in the rain, watching me. Then I blinked, and he was gone.

Ilona Andrews's Books