I grimaced. "Jak's the sort of person who prefers face-to-face meetings."
"Because of his gifts."
"Yes." I gave the waitress another smile of thanks as she delivered my second cup of coffee. She didn't even blink at the half-naked, sword-carrying man sitting opposite me.
But that wasn't entirely surprising. The same ability that allowed reapers to see what form a soul would most likely accept in their guide allowed Azriel to take on an outer skin that would raise no eyebrows, no matter where he was. The waitress probably saw him as just another man in a suit.
"Actually," he said, "she still thinks Jak sits at the table."
"Well, I'm glad he isn't," I muttered around a mouthful of cake.
"Odd words, since your thoughts suggest otherwise."
"As you have previously noted, human thoughts are not always rational."
"But you are not human."
"And right now, I'm not exactly rational." I finished the last of my cake, then pushed the plate away and reached for Jak's. Never let it be said that I let chocolate cake go to waste, even if it wasn't the best I'd ever tasted. "So, what's next?"
He shrugged. "Until your father contacts us with details of the next key's location, we are basically at a standstill."
"Well, if he wasn't the one who stole the first key from us, maybe he won't." And if he wasn't the one who'd stolen it, I was more than happy for him to remain far, far away. If only because I'd seen him angry—and, despite the fact that I'm part werewolf, it had taken days for the bruises to fade. "Maybe he'll consider us too great a risk to use us again."
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you honestly believe that?"
He knew I didn't. He could read every thought, after all. I threw the spoon onto the plate, but it bounced and clattered over the edge of the table. Azriel caught it casually in one hand and gave it back to me.
"Finish the cake," he said softly. "You need the sustenance."