I lifted my cup, then paused, the coffee washing warmth across my lips. There was another odd glimmer in the shadows behind Azriel. It definitely wasn't smoke from the deep fryers or anything like that, because it was stationary under the vents. Steam would have been sucked out.
What? His voice slipped into my mind as smoothly as dark silk.
I think we have company.
Where? He didn't move, but blue fire began to flicker across Valdis's sharp edges, a sure sign that sword and master were ready for action.
It's behind you.
His eyes narrowed a little, and power slithered through the air. His, not that of whatever it was behind him. It is neither a ghost nor a day walker—although there is one in the room.
I raised my eyebrows. Day walker?
The spirit of one who has left his living body to roam this world.
Ah. An astral traveler. So what about those shimmers of silver I keep seeing?
Those, he said, his mind voice flat, are Ania.
I had no idea what that was—other than that it wasn't of this world—but right now there was a more important question. Why didn't you sense them before I did?
He hesitated. My concentration was wholly on you rather than on our surrounds. It is a mistake I shall endeavor not to repeat.
Considering all the mistakes I'd made over the past few weeks, I could hardly grumble at his one brief lapse in concentration—and it was oddly gratifying that I was the cause of it. I frowned at the shimmer still standing in the shadows behind him. What is an Ania?
The ancient Greeks gave them the name—it means, literally, the female personification of trouble.
Which doesn't exactly tell me what they are. Or why they'd be here in this café, closing in on us.