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Because despite the bomb, no way in hell would I believe those two were dead unless I saw their bodies with my own two eyes. But if they were alive, you’d think they’d have caught up by now. Right?
My throat ached. My lungs scorched. My body shook violently, whether from the panic or from the potion finally leaving my body, I didn’t know. Or care.
Only death would slow me now.
Her apartment building came into sight. I picked up speed. It was only until I was through the lobby, up the stairs and at her door, pounding, that I stopped.
“Come on, come on, come on…” I plead, gasping. Dots floated in my vision. I lifted my fist to pummel the door again when it opened.
Dhalia rubbed at her tired eyes. “Gray? What are you doing here?”
“Azra? Is Azra home?” Hope lifted me, bringing tears to my eyes. I needed the relief. I had to know she was here.
“No,” she yawned. “Something about product organization…”
“Give me your phone.”
Dhalia’s big eyes grew rounder. “What’s wrong?” But she handed me her phone.
Azra didn’t pick up. Not after three calls. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I sent her a hasty message, letting her know I was coming, and began my run again.
I made it there too. Record time, in fact.
But I was already far too late.
Chapter Sixty-Two
The cafe’s Closed sign bathed me in red light. Through the window, Azra unpacked teas and spices and other supplies on the counter.
Hatred roared through me. I trembled harder. Razai may not have killed Azra, but he’d used her against me. He’d still made me experience it, and to me, it had been real.
I’d never forget the shape of her tied-up, limp form. The image of her tilting over the edge of the wall. The way her illusion-made face contorted with terror.
The archangel—no—the demon in question lounged in the same chair he’d sat on only weeks ago, sipping a cup of coffee. Clave enthroned himself beside him.
Razai’s head turned. He smiled at me.
Vomit fought its way up my throat.
I was too late. Of course I was. How could I expect to win against an archangel and a demon?
Azra glanced up as the door opened. She went from focused to furious in one second. “Gray, what’s happened to you?” She stormed to me, throwing her arms around my neck. “You look fucking awful. What’s happened? Why were you late?”
“Late?” I wheezed.
“They said you were supposed to meet them here. Th—” She straightened to look me in the eye. Whatever she saw there curled her upper lip. Her pupils slitted. “Gray. What’s going on?”
“I believe it was a bomb,” Razai piped up.
“A bomb?” Azra growled.
“Mine,” I confirmed.
“Your bomb?”
“I like a woman who plays dirty, Detective,” he purred. Somehow, he made it sound like a threat.
Azra spun, arms out as if to shield my body. She didn’t understand, but her instincts told her that Razai and I weren’t on the same side anymore. “What have you done to her?”
