"He did, because he had no choice. I banished him." How I'd actually managed that I had no idea. I mean, he was a reaper, a Mijai, and me telling him to leave me alone had never worked before now. So why the change?
"Why the hell would you do that? Damn it, Ris, you need —"
"Ilianna," I warned, the edge deeper in my voice this time.
She drew in a breath, then released it slowly. "When you want to talk about it, I'll be here. But just remember one thing – he's not human. He's energy, not flesh, and he doesn't operate on the same emotional or intellectual levels as we do. But whatever he did, he did for a reason. A good reason. And no matter how absolute or final his actions may seem to you, it may not be a truth in his world."
"The truth," I replied, bitterness in my voice, "is that the keys were always first and foremost to him."
And I wanted more than that. Wanted him to feel about me the way I felt about him. But was love an emotion reapers were even capable of?
I blinked at the thought. I loved him. Not just cared for him, but loved him.
When the hell had that happened?
I'd spent far more time with Lucian than I ever had with Azriel… I paused at the thought. No, that wasn't true. Not really. I may have spent more time sexually with Lucian, but for every other part of the day – and night – Azriel had been by my side. Somewhere, somehow, he'd snuck past my guard and stolen my heart. How that was even possible when we were still little more than strangers, I have no idea. It wasn't like love and I were on familiar terms. Quite the opposite really, given the only other man I'd loved had been Jak – the werewolf reporter who was one of the people we'd pulled in to help with our key search – and that had turned out to be a complete and utter disaster.
Obviously, my heart had no damn common sense when it came to picking men. Or it just liked to be broken.
Ilianna said, "I would not be so sure of that —"
"Ilianna," I warned yet again.
She sighed, then pushed open the door and ushered me through. The twin scents of curry and baking bread hit, making my mouth water and my stomach rumble even louder than before.
The room itself was a kitchen bigger than our entire apartment. The country-style cabinets wrapped around three of the four walls, providing massive amounts of storage and preparation space, and there were six ovens and four stovetops. A huge wooden table that would have seated at least thirty people dominated the middle of the room, and it was at this that Sable, Mirri, and two other women sat.
They glanced around as we entered. Sable smiled and rose. In either human or horse form she was stunningly beautiful, with black skin and brown eyes that missed very little. Mirri, a mahogany bay when in horse form, had taken after her dad.