“One does not need money when one can simply arrange for them to be given.”
“You stole them?”
“If they are gifted, they are hardly stolen.”
I grinned. “So if I feel the sudden need for diamonds, you could arrange for them to be ‘gifted’?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Diamonds are hardly necessary for your health.”
“You obviously have no understanding of women and diamonds.”
Amusement creased the corners of his bright eyes. “I think we can take that as a given. Eat.”
I did. Once I’d finished the burger, I took a sip of the coffee and said, “So what do we do now?”
“Until the Raziq or your father comes through with some way of finding either of our sorcerers, I do not know.” He paused. “I would suggest sleeping, but I already know the answer to that.”
“Yeah.” I grimaced. “It just feels wrong to sleep when the clock is ticking for Mirri. But I could go see Uncle Quinn.”
Surprise flitted across Azriel’s expression. “Why?”
“Because, as you noted earlier, if there’s one person in this world of mine who might know how to stop these bastards in their tracks, it would be Uncle Quinn.”
And not just the Raziq, but my father and, hell, maybe even Hunter. They had to be stopped, all of them. And while I knew I was going to have hell’s chance of stopping Quinn from subsequently joining any battle, it was a risk I might have to take.
Because I was beginning to think it could be the only way anyone was going to get out of this… the thought froze as my phone rang. The tone told me it was Uncle Rhoan, and I fought back an odd mix of trepidation and grief. Because I knew he’d be ringing about Jak. And that he’d be madder than hell.
Only trouble was, the pain of Jak’s death was still so raw I might end up saying something I’d ultimately regret.
“Then ignore it,” Azriel said, ever practical.
“If I do, he’s more than likely to order me arrested.”
He frowned. “Why would he do that?”
“Because I’m betting he wants answers about Jak’s murder and why Hunter would want him dead.”
And how could I explain any of that without stepping into territory that could ultimately lead him into danger? Because Hunter would kill him if she thought it necessary to both keep her secrets and me on the leash.
I took a deep, somewhat quivery breath, then reached for the phone and hit the vid-screen’s Answer button. Rhoan appeared. To say his expression was thunderous was something of an understatement.
“What the fuck is going on, Risa?” he all but exploded. “Why the hell would Madeline Hunter want Jak Talbott dead?”
I was tempted to tell him that was a question he should ask the lady herself, but I didn’t actually want him anywhere near the bitch. Not when she was so intent on teaching me a lesson. I licked my lips and said, “I don’t know —”
“Don’t give me that shit.” A dangerous light glittered in his gray eyes. “You know exactly why she ordered the hit, and I’m guessing you knew it even before you put a sword through the back of the assassin. Tell me what the fuck is going on, or I’m going to haul your ass into the Directorate and make the investigation official.”
Part of me wanted to snarl some smart remark right back at him; the other, more sensible part just wanted to run. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation with Uncle Rhoan, but I guess it was always bound to happen. As I kept fucking noting, it wasn’t like fate had shown any propensity to give me a break.
Which meant I had only one choice.
Honesty.
I swore internally and scrubbed my free hand across my eyes. “Do that,” I said, my voice holding an edge I couldn’t quite prevent, “and you might well kill everyone we both care about.”
His expression didn’t change. If anything, it got more dangerous. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Look, we can’t do this over the phone. Meet me at the café.” I hesitated, then added, “Come alone, and don’t tell anyone else you’re doing it. Not even Aunt Riley.”