"Sort of." I frowned and retrieved my phone from my pocket. It informed me that the connection had been severed. No surprise there, given the man I’d been talking to was now walking several feet in front of me. "So you used my phone to track me?"
"No," he said patiently, obviously realizing he was speaking to someone with a slightly addled brain. "I followed the connection sex has given us. I knew roughly where you were when the accident happened, so it was simply a matter of driving hell-for-leather down here and then walking around until I felt you."
"So the connection isn’t a long-distance thing?"
"Yes and no." He shrugged. "Sometimes I do get tantalizing fragments, but it’s really nothing clear or concise unless I’m close."
Which was a whole lot more than what he’d admitted earlier and made me wonder if this was actually the truth, or whether it was yet another misdirection.
"How did you get down here?"
"Sewer entrance. There should be another one coming up."
"And you didn’t spot anyone else down here?"
"No." He glanced at me again. "Why?"
"I don’t know." I paused. "It just seems odd. I mean, he was asking about the book, but surely if he were so desperate for it, he would have ensured that I was more secure."
"There was magic in the room. I could feel it even when I was standing outside the door."
"Yeah, I know. It prevented me from becoming Aedh—"
"That is some pretty serious magical mojo," Lucian interrupted grimly. "He may have thought that was all he needed."
Maybe. And yet, something still felt off to me. I couldn’t explain it—particularly given that Forman had been pretty convincing in his desire to get the information out of me. It was just an odd, niggling feeling—and I’d long learned to listen to my feelings, no matter how weird they might seem.
"How long have I been missing?"