"This is the first and—more than likely—the last time I will undertake such an endeavor."
I stopped next to him and met his gaze. "If you don’t like the mission, why not ask for a transfer?"
"It is my duty, and no one else’s." His gaze didn’t waver, and yet something in those blue depths—something fierce and raw—made my stomach quiver. "And I never said I didn’t like it."
"You’ve a funny way of showing it then, my friend."
"That is because," he said softly, "I fear it more than I like it."
And with that, he winked out of existence, leaving me with dozens of questions I knew would probably never find an answer.
"Damn you to hell, Azriel," I muttered, and clomped down the stairs.
Tao raised an eyebrow as I entered the kitchen. His brown hair was covered by an old baseball cap worn backward, and his white chef’s jacket was splattered with a colorful array of the evening’s cooking.
"You don’t look happy," he commented. "Do you need a shoulder, drink, or food?"
"Mostly the last option, but a little of the others wouldn’t go astray right now, either."
He caught my elbow and led me over to a chair in the far corner. "Sit," he ordered, "while I rustle up a meal and a drink."
I did as ordered. Tao, like most wolves, tended to be on the lean side, but he worked out religiously and, as a result, had not only wonderful shoulders and arms but a nice V-shape to his body as well. And he moved with a grace that belied his height.
"So," he said, coming back ten minutes later with a thick steak sandwich and a huge glass of Coke, "what’s been going on?"
I updated him on everything that had happened over the day as I ate, and when I’d finished talking, he frowned. "So the first priority now has to be tracking down this Harlen fellow."
"Stane’s not going to make much headway until we can get a full name," I commented, grabbing a tea towel and wiping my hands on it. "I think we’re better off trying to find the man in charge. I mean, how many dark sorcerers can there be in this city?"