He grunted, accepting the half lie. "That could be a good thing. If you don’t have the book, you can’t chase keys. And that means Hunter might just leave you alone."
Given Hunter was all that stood between me and the high vampire council, I was actually hoping she didn’t. And I had hell’s chance of the Aedh giving up. But I didn’t say that. I simply shrugged.
He eyed me for a moment, obviously suspecting there was a reason behind my silence, but thankfully Harris chose that moment to reappear. He was dragging the second man along behind him by the ethereal webbing.
"A very interesting rope you’ve got here," he said, his gaze meeting mine. The blue depths were cool and distant—not a man who trusted easily, I thought. "What is it made of?"
"I couldn’t say, because it isn’t my rope."
He raised a dark eyebrow. "Whose rope is it? And can you remove it?"
"It’s Azriel’s. And yes, he probably can."
"Who’s Azriel? The cop at the door?" Harris asked.
"That’s no cop," Rhoan said. "That is a reaper."
"He is a reaper," I corrected gently.
Rhoan glanced at me, bemusement crinkling the corners of his eyes, but all he said was, "Can he remove it so that transporting our prisoner is a little easier?"
Even as he made the request, the webbing disintegrated. The shifter groaned when his legs and arms were released, but it was a sound that became another curse as Harris quickly replaced the webbing with cuffs.
"Thanks, Azriel," Rhoan said, then frowned. "Have you been the victim of any other recent attacks that you haven’t told us about?"
I shook my head and lied. "This is the first."
"If there are any more, you will tell us, won’t you?"