"In exchange for the key, of course. What else matters?"
Indeed, what else did? For him, my father, the Raziq, and even Azriel, there was nothing else. And if Lucian thought I could control the actions of any of them, then he was seriously insane.
"I can speak only for myself and Azriel, but we both know there are other players in the mix who want the key just as much as you."
Ready soon, Amaya said.
Anger—and the need to kill, to rent and tear—surged, and I could almost taste his death on my tongue. And I knew that this time, it wasn't Amaya's need, but my own. I wanted his blood on my hands, wanted to feel his life slipping away, wanted to watch the realization of defeat dawn in his eyes.
"With the keys in my possession, neither your father nor the Raziq will be a problem," he said. "Because they will not move against me until they are sure of the keys' location."
I pushed to my feet but made no other move to give away my readiness to react the minute I got the all clear from both Amaya and Uncle Quinn. God, please, let him contact me soon.
"You're overconfident, Lucian, and that's never a good thing."
"I have lived many lives in this world in that state, and I have always surpassed my own expectations." He glanced at his watch again. "And now, I believe, a phone call is required."
Amaya!
Through, she screamed back. Attack!
At the same time, Uncle Quinn's lilting tones said, We have her. She's safe and well.
As Lucian dug his phone out of his pocket, I launched myself. There was a brief flare of magic, a moment of resistance, and then I was free and running. He looked up and swore, the phone smashing to the stone floor as he brought his sword up. Steel clashed with steel, and Amaya screamed, the sound one of fury.
Magic, she screamed. Burns.