"Because it wasn’t in there, was it? We checked yesterday."
"So how did the new handler know something would be there?"
"He’s getting orders from someone, isn’t he? Why can’t it be the same someone as Handberry?"
Why not indeed? I guess it was lucky they’d checked last night rather than this morning, because my father must have had it placed there after he’d talked to me. "If you’ve been stationed here for weeks, why didn’t you sense the Razan who delivered the note?"
"Because we haven’t seen another Razan for weeks. I told you, we’ve been stationed here."
So how did the note get into the locker? "What about an Aedh?"
He snorted softly. "An Aedh doing his own dirty work? That’s likely."
For a man who was all but a slave to an Aedh, he was pretty damn critical of them. "Do you have a contact number for this new handler of yours?"
He nodded as well as he could with my hand pressed against his throat. "On my phone, in my top pocket."
I reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and shoved it into mine. "What name is your handler under?"
"Handberry. I figured it was as good as any."
Fair enough, I thought, and then hit him, as hard as I could, with my free hand, knocking him out. Then I let him drop to the floor.
For several seconds I did nothing more than stand there staring at him, my fists clenched and body shaking. Then, gradually, the rage eased and I dropped down beside him, hugging my knees to my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut and fought the urge to cry.
Goddamn it, what had just happened?
Warmth surrounded me, then strong hands caught mine and squeezed them gently. "Risa," Azriel said softly. "Look at me."