been assigned to me, and I must comply.”
“Why?”
He looked at me like I was being a simpleton. “Because it is my duty.”
“And duty is everything?”
“Without it, chaos reigns. Which is why we must stop your father. He threatens the true order of things.”
Whose true order? I wanted to ask, but kept the question to myself. I very much suspected that it wasn’t one he’d be willing to address.
Besides, did I really want to know the answer to a question like that?
“But what about the little girl? If you’re following me about, how can you also track down whoever stole her soul?”
“You must sleep. I will use that time to hunt. And others will hunt when I’m unable to.”
“And if you find the thing responsible?”
“I will kill it, of course.”
“So sending it back through the gates is not an option?”
“For the Mijai, no. As I said, we are not gatekeepers. Whatever is doing this either broke through or was brought through the portals to get here. Besides, if it was powerful enough to break through one time, what makes you think it will not do so again?”
“The fact that you lot will be waiting?”
He didn’t immediately answer, studying me for several seconds before asking, “Why would you worry about the fate of whatever stole that child’s soul?”
“I’m not. You can chop it into little bits and serve it to the nearest rat for all I care. I just wasn’t sure if that was your intention or not.”
“As I said, the Mijai are not soul guides. We are hunters. Killers.”
And I had one intending to follow me everywhere. Joy.
“So how are you going to stop this thing from killing again?”
He shrugged. “We may not. There were few clues left in the young girl’s room and no trace to follow.”
“Trace?”
He hesitated. “Dark energy has a certain resonance. Often it leaves a trace—a scent, if you will—that we can use to track the perpetrators down. But whatever is behind this theft left no such trace.”
Fay Kingston’s comments echoed briefly through my mind and I said, “There may not be any trace you can follow now, but the thing did have a presence. The mother mentioned it.”
His gaze seemed to sharpen. “What did she say?”
“She felt something cold and evil in the room that made her skin crawl.” I hesitated. “She said that reading from the Bible made it flee, but personally I doubt that. The thing remained long enough to steal Hanna’s soul.”
Something akin to disappointment crossed his features, though the expression was so fleeting I might well have been imagining it. “The Bible would only affect those beings who were religious during their time here, and her description gives us no real clue to follow. Could you not question her further?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t tell her Hanna’s soul had been stolen. I told her she’d moved on peacefully.”
That seemed to surprise him, though again, his expression didn’t change. It was something I felt rather than saw. “Why would you lie?”
“Because the truth would only cause her more pain. Losing a child is enough to cope with.”
“But it is the truth. That is always the correct choice, whether painful or not.”
I smiled at the simplicity of such a statement. “It would be nice if things were that straightforward, but in this world, they rarely are.”
“Hence the need for the dark path.”
“So all of us liars go to hell?”
Again the ghost of a smile touched his lips. “To repeat your own words, it would be nice if things were that straightforward.”
“It’s just as well that they’re not. Otherwise, hell would be one crowded place.”
“The way this world of yours works, it certainly would.” He pushed back his chair and rose, drawing my gaze up his long, magnificent length. “If by chance you are contacted by your father when I’m not on watch, will you contact me?”
“And how am I supposed to do that? I’m presuming reapers don’t carry cell phones