I glanced at the address and frowned. “He lives in the same building as Jantz?”
“No only the same building, but the same apartment. But, according to those who filed the missing persons report, Jantz lived alone and rarely had visitors.”
“Meaning Jantz was either in cahoots with Lauren, or she was simply using his name and face when it suited her.” I hesitated, my frown deepening. “Did Jantz have any special delivery instructions on his index card?”
“None—though some of the others have ‘pickup only’ noted on them, so that would suggest Jantz’s items were posted.”
“Then we definitely had better go investigate the apartment.” Jantz might be missing and presumed dead, but there could be a faint hope that he—or even Lauren, if he was involved with her in some way—had left something behind that would clue us in as to where Lauren might be.
It is a very faint hope, Azriel commented. Our sorceress has shown no inclination so far to leave things to chance.
Granted, but it’s not like we’ve got many other choices right now. And until we’d cut down the huge number of possibilities when it came to the placement of the final key, there wasn’t much we could do there, either. No matter how much Hunter might threaten or wish otherwise.
“So,” Stane said, “my news has been dealt with. What’s the next delicious puzzle you want me to solve?”
“I’m afraid it’s a rather tedious one.”
“Which is precisely what computers are designed for. Give.”
I hesitated, my gaze sweeping the room. “You have checked for bugs recently, haven’t you?”
He snorted. “Daily, my dear. And I have several of the latest noise screens up and running, just in case the Directorate or some other government department decides to get long-distance nosy about my activities.”
“Good.” Because I wouldn’t put it past Hunter to have this place wired for sound. Of course, I guess she really didn’t need to, given that she still had at least two Cazadors following me about astrally, and at least one of those was still reporting back truthfully. I supposed I just had to hope it was Markel on duty right now, not the other one. I took a deep breath in an effort to calm the tension running through me, then added, “According to the bastard who was my father, the third key lies in the southeast, on a palace whose coat of arms lies the wrong way around.”
Stane blinked. “Well, that’s not exactly an expansive clue, is it?”
“No. I’ve done a search and come up with thousands of possibilities. I need you to pin it down—and, if possible, within the next six hours.”
He clasped his hands, then stretched them out in front of his body, cracked his knuckles. “Well, we’d better get down to it, then, hadn’t we? You waiting around, or checking out Jantz’s address?”
“The latter.”
“Then come back in six hours if I haven’t contacted you sooner.”
“Will do.” I gulped down the remainder of my coffee, put the cup in the sink—which was already half-filled with unwashed dishes—then walked back over and dropped a kiss on Stane’s cheek. “Thank you.”
His grin was decidedly impudent. “You do know that another crate of bubbles would be far more appreciated than a kiss—as lovely as a kiss is, obviously.”
“Consider it done.” I got out my phone and ordered him two. Who knew when I’d get the chance otherwise.
“Thank you, my dear. My liver appreciates it.”
“So does your wallet, no doubt,” I said, voice dry, “especially considering you’re undoubtedly making a nice profit on them.”
“On some of them, definitely. But me and the liver have acquired quite a taste for bubbles.”
I stepped toward Azriel, then hesitated and glanced back at Stane. “Get the rest of those screens up. Now.”
His smile faded. “On it, boss. You take care yourself.”
“We will.”
With that, Azriel wrapped his arms around my waist, tugged me closer, then whisked us out of there. We reappeared in the middle of a park. A pretty park, but still a park rather than the expected apartment. I blinked and looked around, then caught sight of the golden turret atop the Sydney Tower and realized what had happened. Azriel couldn’t actually take us to anyplace neither of us had been. We were here rather than Jantz’s apartment simply because I’d been through Hyde Park, and this was the closest we could get to the Elizabeth Street building.
“I can use static images as reference points,” he commented, “as long as they’re detailed enough.”
“Which is something we’ll undoubtedly have to do later.” I stepped away, then caught his hand and led the way. “A building in this part of town is going to have high-level security. You might have to influence the guard to get us in.”