I frowned at him. "I’m not leaving without you—"
"You must," he said. "The Raziq have arrived back in the tunnels. They will be here soon. Go, before they find us."
"But they can track me, can’t they?"
"If you remain here, yes they can. If you flee, if you get as far away from this tunnel as you can and don’t go back to your apartment, you will be safe."
I eyed him doubtfully, torn between not wanting to get caught by the Aedh again and not wanting to leave the man who’d just saved my life. "But if I remove the bullet—"
"We do not have the time. There is a small manhole above us. Use that to escape."
"Fuck it, I can’t—"
Anger surged—a brief flare of energy that stung my skin and rushed through my mind. Then it was gone, and he released my hand, pushing me back from him. "Go. I will be fine."
I swore again, then shoved the book at him and said, "You’d better be, reaper."
I slid a hand into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around my keys and wallet, then reached into that place inside that wasn’t wolf, that was something far more powerful and dangerous. My Aedh half surged to life and flared through my body—a blaze of heat and energy that numbed pain and dulled sensation as it invaded every muscle, every cell, breaking them down and tearing them apart, until my flesh no longer existed and I became one with the shadows, one with the air. Until I held no substance, no form, and could not be seen or heard or felt by anyone or anything.
Except reapers and undoubtedly the Aedh, if they were close enough.
I glanced at Azriel, but he’d already gone, zapped away to God knew where. I swirled upward, found the manhole, and slipped through the small opening in the center of the cover.
And found myself in the middle of Swanston Street. A tram rattled by inches from my smoky form, stirring rubbish and sending a breeze through my particles.
Don’t go home, Azriel had said. So where the hell should I go? I couldn’t go to Stane’s, simply because I didn’t want to place him in danger. Azriel might suspect that the Raziq couldn’t find me unless I was close, but until we knew that for certain, I was better off keeping well away from those I cared about.
It also meant I’d better get the hell away from this manhole. I fled, swirling randomly through the city streets, the chill night air seeming to seep into my particles, making them feel heavy, as if ice had settled somewhere deep inside. I flowed out of the city and followed the Tullamarine Freeway into the suburbs—more out of habit than necessity, because in Aedh form I wasn’t restricted to using regular roads and pathways.