Leaning up against Azrael, I swirl my fingers over his chest, giving him a series of doting and deliberating looks, as though to suggest I am actually considering the words that are coming out of my mouth, and they aren't just the product of several days of planning.
I need to reassure him that the soul is in his grasp, that unnecessary and volatile action is not needed to capture her, as this would only make my situation all the more tricky. And of course, telling him directly would go against every fibre of my being, but leading him on a wild goose chase for a bit was never out of the option.
