Despite his words, he neither looked nor sounded worried. In fact, he looked rather distracted.
I frowned. "What about?"
"Can't say on the phone, but you'll want to hear it, believe me."
I bit my lip, frustrated with both his reticence to answer the damn question—although that was something I should have gotten used to, seeing as everyone was doing it of late—and that inner voice that kept insisting something was wrong. But was it clairvoyance, or the simple knowledge that every time the phone rang, the shit got deeper? "Where?"
"At Larry's, in Brunswick."
It wasn't a place I knew, but then, that was what Google was for. "When?"
He paused. "Ten minutes."
"Shit, Jak, you're not giving me much time to get—"
I cut the rest of my sentence off as my damn phone beeped, then shut down. The stupid battery was dead.
I swore softly, threw it down, then stalked across to the computer and Googled Larry's in Brunswick. It was situated on Hope Street, not far down from Sydney Road.
I grabbed my keys, then glanced at Azriel. "I'll meet you there."
"You do not wish me to take you?"
I hesitated. That niggly sense of wrongness was still present, but I wasn't really sure whether it was related to Jak, or the still-missing Ilianna. I bit my bottom lip, weighing options, then said, "Can you go to Stane's first and ask him to keep an eye on police reports, just in case something comes through about Ilianna?"
He frowned. "Why not ring him? He does not appreciate me suddenly appearing on his premises."
No, he didn't, but he wasn't about to keel over in shock from it, either, according to Azriel, and he should know. Besides, I needed information on Ilianna, and Stane was probably our best method of getting it—and it was stupid of me not to have asked him when I was there earlier. "My phone is dead, and I don't want to waste time going there myself. And I'm only meeting Jak. He's not a threat."