"Lucian didn't kill Logan. You found the shooter."
"Yes, but who controlled the shooter? He was a Razan, Risa. Maybe he was Lucian's Razan."
"Lucian hasn't got Razan."
"How can you be sure of that? He has been on this earth for a long, long time. He may now revel in pleasure, but have no doubt he has also become proficient at lying."
"You and I know it's more a guess than a certainty." I raised a hand and brushed my fingertips across the back of his neck, following the swirling tribal patterns inked into his skin. A dark fire seemed to ignite deep in the heart of them. "Lucian said he'd been stripped of most Aedh powers—how then could he possibly create human slaves and sustain them?"
"I am sure he can do more than what he says."
"So you have proof of this? Or is it merely distrust and dislike?"
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. I let my fingers slide down to the stylized black Dušan that dominated the left half of his back. It, too, seemed to gleam with a dark fire when I touched it. But then, it was alive, even if it couldn't gain form on this plane.
"That distrust," I continued softly, "isn't the only reason for your sudden need to kill Lucian, is it?"
"No."
"Then why the change?"
Even as I asked the question I had my doubts that he would answer it. But once again he surprised me.
"Because," he said, his voice even though the air around us suddenly seemed to crackle with anger and tension—the same sort of tension that rode his powerful body. "He is the reason you are standing where you are, contemplating what you are."
"No, he isn't."
"Do you deny the desire he raised when he called?"