I ignored the ache that accompanied the thought and quickly waved a hand. "Sorry. Dumb question. Forget it."
I turned and grabbed the nearest clothing item. It turned out to be a short jean skirt that was more suited to summer than the chill of a day like today, but what the hell. I teamed it with a thick cashmere sweater that hugged me in all the right places, then wondered who I was trying to impress. Azriel certainly couldn't care one way or another what I was wearing.
Once I'd pulled on tall leather boots, brushed my hair, and grabbed my handbag, I turned around and gave him a bright smile. "Okay, let's go."
"Risa—"
I cut him off with a sharp motion. "Don't worry about it, Azriel."
"I can hardly not worry about it when you are." He caught my hand and drew me toward him. But he didn't kiss me, didn't do any of those things that a human—or non-human—male might have done. Instead, he said, "The future is in a vast state of disarray right now. No one, not even those of us whose duty it is to know the future of everyone who lives on this plane, can guess at where this quest might lead."
My gaze searched his. "Meaning death is becoming more and more likely?"
He shrugged and gently brushed a stray strand of damp hair from my eyes. "It has always been a possibility."
"And yet you got angry when I said my death might be a good thing."
"Because there is a huge difference between taking one's own life and a death that has been foretold. I would not like to see you end up as one of the lost ones."
"Trust me, it's not like I'd want that, either." Yet I couldn't shake the notion that that possibility was still on the table. I sighed. "As I said, let's forget it. We need to go talk to the people at Hallowed Ground before bitch-face rings and blasts me."
"Her time will come," he said. "Have no fear of that."
"Then I hope I'm still around to see it."
"I suspect that even if you are not instrumental in the event, you will at least be there," he said. "And no, I will not say more."
"Damn you—"