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heritage.
    “It was my father’s.” Apparently, he’d given it to my mom the night of my conception, and Mom had passed it on to me when I was old enough to start asking questions.
    “Indeed,” he said, and I had the distinct feeling it was information he already knew. “When?”
    “Twenty-eight years ago.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “That is your age, yes?”
    “Why is my age important?”
    “It isn’t. I just want to talk to your father.”
    I nearly choked on my Coke. I coughed for several seconds—while he watched dispassionately—then somehow managed to say, “Well, I wish you luck with that.”
    “So you’re saying you’ve had no contact with him recently?”
    I swallowed a hiccup, then said, “I’ve had no contact with my father my entire life . He might have provided the seed that formed me, but that was his entire input.”
    “And yet he is apparently here in Melbourne.”
    “Well, if you know that, then you know a hell of a lot more about him than I do.”
    I didn’t even know what he looked like, other than the fact that he had violet eyes and silvery blond hair, just like me. Of course, Mom’s hair was also a silvery blond, but neither that nor the blue of her eyes was natural. As a Helki werewolf, she could subtly alter her appearance, and the silver and blue not only suited her psychic business better, but also enabled her to use her true form when she didn’t want to be noticed.
    Admittedly, she had tried to answer my questions about my dad, but the truth was, I was the result of a one-night stand, and Mom’s entire time with him had totaled little more than six hours. Hardly long enough to form any lasting impressions.
    I studied the reaper for a moment, wondering if he was telling the truth, then wondering what he’d have to gain by lying, and added, “Why do you think my father would even bother contacting me after all these years?”
    “He has come to Melbourne for a reason. We believe you might be that reason.” He shrugged—a small, economical movement.
    “On the other hand, he might just have come home to die.” After all, the Aedh only bred when they sensed their death was near, and while I was just over twenty-eight years old, that was merely a heartbeat in Aedh years.
    “That is also possible.”
    I finished the last of my Coke, then pushed the empty cup away and crossed my arms on the table—an action that brought me closer to the heat of him. It trembled across my skin in waves, warm and disturbing. But oddly, he had no scent. He might wear the flesh of a man, but he didn’t smell like one.
    He didn’t smell like anything, really. Not even the rain that still beaded his skin.
    “Meaning there are others like you out there searching for him?”
    He hesitated, then nodded—another brief but oddly lyrical movement.
    “But why? What has he done to incite such interest from the reapers?”
    “It’s not what he has done, but what he might do.”
    Frustration rolled through me, but there wasn’t much point in venting it. It wasn’t exactly wise to get annoyed at someone who could steal your life away between one heartbeat and the next. And though it was obvious he wanted to use me to get to my father, that wasn’t a comforting thought. Not when I knew so little about the reapers as a society or as individuals.
    “So what is he up to that’s causing you so much consternation?”
    He crossed his arms, and I had to resist the urge to let my gaze linger over the lean, muscular goodness such an action revealed.
    Damn it, I either needed to get to Franklin’s—a discreet, upmarket wolf club—or break my vow to stop using Tao. This was getting ridiculous.
    “To answer that,” he said, after considering me for entirely too long, “I really need to know just how much you know about us.”
    I replied, “As much as any half-Aedh knows.”
    “Which is not helpful, as I am not aware of what a half-Aedh might know.”
    I swear his lips twitched as he said it—almost