Who did what?

"Azael works for the Technocracy," he began, pausing when Linao smirked.

"Why doesn't that surprise me," she mumbled to herself.


In another part of town, the sun had settled beneath the tall buildings, creating a patchwork vermilion across the sky. It glanced off mirror windows and glowered against the faces of anyone high enough to enjoy the view.

Azael leaned against his desk, his eyes meeting the horizon and drifting aimlessly across it as he answered a beep from behind him.

"Go ahead."

"You were right," the scratchy voice replied from the other end of a bad connection. "I heard them at the old warehouse on 14th Street."

"The mage?"

"Someone played him right into our hands."

Azael smiled toward the balcony. It was almost too easy this time. "We'll have to send a thank-you note. Anything else?"

"It's all set up."


"And there's a new huntress with an eye for you."

"Well well." It had been quite awhile since the pleasure of a hunt had surfaced. "Make sure you keep an eye on her, then."

"Do you want me to take care of it?"

And ruin a perfectly good opportunity? Azael kept the thought to himself, musing for a moment before he replied. "No. She doesn't matter. Jack will get to her first, I'm sure."

The connection broken, Azael turned toward the office. A devious grin broke the calculating expression. "Ahh Jeriel," he mumbled, enjoying it almost too thoroughly. "You're good... but not that good."

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