Darkness Devours (28 page)

“Well,” Jak said, once we were clear of the house and walking back to our cars, “that was intense.”

“Yep. And he was deadly serious about throwing us in jail.”

“I gathered that, so keep the man updated, for Christ’s sake.”

I flashed him a grin. “What? You don’t fancy cooling your heels in jail with me?”

“Sorry, no. I’ve been in jail once when I ignored a judge’s ‘no-print’ order.” He shuddered briefly. “I don’t care to repeat the experience—even with you.”

I snorted softly. “Do you think you can use your wily press ways to uncover where the secretary lives?”

“
That
isn’t even a challenge for a reporter as good as me.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned my butt against the side of his car while he made several phone calls. Eventually he turned and said, “Okay, she lives in a town house in Doncaster—you want to come with me?”

I shook my head. “It’ll save you driving me back here.”

“I wouldn’t mind—”

“I would. You and me trapped in a small car is not a good idea.”

“You don’t trust me? I’m mortified.”

“A statement that would be more believable if you didn’t have that smirk on your face.” I pushed away from the car. “Just give me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

He did. “Better not be late—I just might start questioning her without you.”

“Better not. I’m all that’s standing between you and jail, remember.”

He snorted. “The way things are going, you’ll be the reason I’m thrown in jail.”

I grinned, but couldn’t deny it. As I headed for my car, my phone rang. I dug it out of my purse and hit the
ANSWER
button. “Hello?”

“Well, hello,” a familiar voice said. “Are we over our snit yet?”

I ignored the jibe. “What can I do for you, Lucian?”

“Oh, I can think of lots of things, but I’ll settle for a simple dinner date.”

There was nothing simple about dinner dates with him—that I knew from long experience. “I’m afraid the snit lingers on, so the answer is no.”

He sighed. “Risa, we both know that you could have stopped me anytime you wanted. You simply didn’t want.”

That was possibly true—if I’d had Amaya on me and had forced him back at sword point. I doubted I’d have had the strength—or rather, the willpower—to do it otherwise. Which, again, struck me as odd because up until now I’d never been a pushover when it came to men and sex. But then, up until now I’d never been involved with a full Aedh, either.

“That’s not the point, Lucian.”

“What if I swear on bended knees not to push against your desire like that again?”

“Then I might forgive you,” I said with a half smile. “Just not today. After all, you did bet that I’d only last two nights without you.”

“I will hold my tongue in the future,” he said, with a laugh. “So, what have you been up to without me? I’m guessing your father hasn’t been in contact with you about finding the next key?”

“No. Life has been the same old, same old, I’m afraid.”

“Meaning you’re at work?” he inquired. “Against the reaper’s wishes?”

“Azriel doesn’t run my life any more than you do,” I said mildly—and, hopefully, sidestepped the question of where I was.

“Perhaps, but he does have a point when it comes to your restaurant. It’s too easy for the Raziq to find you there.”

“Except, as I keep telling him, they’re hardly going to attack me somewhere where there’s lots of people.” But even as I said that, I remembered the Ania attack in the café and shivered. And I had a bad feeling I’d just tempted fate.

“If it proves easier for the Raziq to net you in a public space, then they will do so. For an Aedh, the end goal is all and nothing else matters.”

“And what is your end goal, Lucian?”

“Revenge,” he said flatly. “Whatever it takes, whatever I have to do. But I’ve never hidden that from you.”

No, he hadn’t. But I was beginning to wonder just how big a part I was playing in his end goal. It was certainly bigger than what he was admitting, and
that
was making me more and more nervous.

And yet I still didn’t want to walk away from him. Maybe I really
was
addicted to the damn man.

“Well, this little piece of your revenge pie isn’t ready to play nice just yet.” I dug my keys out of my pocket and clicked the
UNLOCK
button. Lights flashed as the car opened.

“You know, that background noise isn’t sounding like you’re in the restaurant.”

“I never said I was.”

“So, the bored and horny investment adviser isn’t even allowed to live vicariously through your eventful day-to-day life?”

I snorted softly. “Good-bye, Lucian. Talk to you soon.”

“Hopefully, sooner than you—”

I cut him off in midsentence, tossed the phone and purse over onto the passenger seat, then climbed into the car.

And only then realized I wasn’t alone in the car.

For a moment, fear froze me to the spot. And that’s all it took for the Ania to wrap tightly around me and prevent movement. Amaya was screaming inside my head, her fury burning through my body and her flames flickering across my skin like angry fireflies.

“Azriel!” I screamed, physically and mentally, even as the Ania ripped me free of the seat and the car. I felt the heat of his approach. Then power exploded and there was no Azriel, no world, only darkness and an uneasy sense of movement.

It stopped with a suddenness that made my stomach lurch, and then I was dropped rather unceremoniously onto a surface that was cool and dry. Dirt, I thought, spitting it out of my mouth in between groans. I drew Amaya, then rolled onto my back. Her purple light spread across the black, parting it like glue. Rock surrounded me—above and around. I was in a cavern of some sort, and there didn’t seem to be either an entry or an exit point. My tomb—for that’s what it suddenly felt like—was about four feet wide and about the same height. I could kneel, but I couldn’t fully stand. But a breeze stirred sluggishly across my skin, which meant
there
was
a link to the surface here somewhere, even if the air had a stale, somewhat old scent. And that in itself suggested not only that there wasn’t a whole lot of fresh air getting down here, but also that I was deep underground.

And if I
was
, it meant Azriel wouldn’t find me. My being underground restricted our chi connection, and the deeper I was, the worse it became—although apparently such restrictions
didn’t
apply when reapers collected the souls of miners and others who died underground. Not that I was making any immediate plans for him to find me
that
way. What the Raziq planned was anyone’s guess.

I glanced up at the ceiling again, and this time noticed a faint, multicolored shimmer that reminded me of oil on water. I swore softly.
That
shimmer was a field of magic designed to prevent me from reaching for the Aedh—something I’d discovered the hard way the last time the Raziq trapped me underground. I guess I had to be thankful that at least
this
time their prison wasn’t a sewer.

I sat up. As I did so, an oddly dark surge of electricity ran across my skin, making the little hairs at the back of my neck stand on end and my soul shiver away in fear.

The Aedh were near.

Fear slammed into my heart and for several seconds I struggled to breathe. I closed my eyes and battled for calm. I couldn’t give in to fear—not when I needed all my wits about me to survive whatever it was the Raziq had planned. Although what good mere survival would do me in this place deep underground I had no
idea. It wasn’t like I could run anywhere, even if I’d wanted to. With that shimmer in place, my tomb had no exit point.

“I know you’re there.” My voice was croaky with fear but sounded oddly flat in the thick atmosphere of the little cavern.

“Sheathe your weapon. It will do you no good.”

The disembodied male voice held no threat, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was the Raziq I’d spoken to last time—the Raziq that had invaded my brain and made it seem like every part of me was being torn apart.

I licked my lips and somehow said, “Then you shouldn’t be worried about me holding it.”

The lilac-lit shadows showed no hint of them—not surprising, I suppose. It wasn’t like they’d shown a propensity to reveal themselves in our previous encounters.

“Why do human always have to make things difficult for themselves?” he asked, almost philosophically.

I raised Amaya. The sword howled inside my head, a scream that was part anger, part frustration. Her fire spat through the thick darkness and, just for a moment, I saw him—or rather, saw the shimmer of his energy, because he was little more than a pulsating mass of quicksilver. Then it disappeared and all that was left was a sensation of power—power that was amplifying, growing stronger, burning my skin as it skimmed around my arms and snapped tight.

The minute it did, it felt like my arms were on fire. They burned and burned, until it felt like flesh and muscle were being peeled away layer by layer, until all
that was left was bone. Bone that fissured and cracked as the flames continued to eat down. I screamed until my throat was raw and no sound came out, but somehow, through it all, I still managed to hold on to Amaya. Energy flowed from her, fueling my body, feeding my will to resist.

But the flames grew stronger, and one by one my fingers began to shatter, until there was nothing left to hold the sword. She fell to the floor, her scream an echo of my own. The power eating my flesh slithered from my arms and wrapped around her. She slid across the floor, well away from both me and the Aedh, and was suddenly silenced. It made the thick atmosphere within the tomb even more frightening and, for a moment, I feared the worst. Then I noticed firefly flickers down her bright edges. They might have silenced the spirit within the sword, but they certainly hadn’t killed her.

Relief surged, but for several minutes I could do nothing more than rock back and forth, nursing the broken remnants of my arms as tears streamed down my face. Eventually, the pain eased, and when I finally gathered the courage to look down at my hands, they were whole and unburned.

It had been an illusion. A painful, all-too-real illusion.

“Bastards,” I said, scrubbing an arm across my tearstained face and silently rejoicing for the fact that I could do it.

“We desire your help,” the disembodied voice said, “and we will get it, whether you wish to cooperate with us or not.”

“You can guess which end of that spectrum I’m going to fall on,” I said resolutely and no doubt stupidly.

But I just couldn’t give these beings what they wanted, because, in the end, what they wanted was the permanent closure of the portals to heaven and hell. And that, in turn, meant no souls ever being reborn. Not only would the world become filled with the ghosts of those unable to move on, but many of the babies born would be without their assigned souls, and therefore they would be little more than lifeless flesh.

“You would be wise to reconsider your options,” he said. “It would be easier for you if you willingly comply.”

I snorted softly. “Since when has my welfare been a consideration in any of our dealings?”

“It isn’t. It is merely practicality.”

“Well, you can take your practicality and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

“You do not wish to acquiesce?” His energy began to build again, a maelstrom of power that rumbled like distant thunder across the outer edges of my senses.

Amaya flared brighter, her flames a furious swirl. I could’ve sworn that just for a moment she moved.

I hugged my arms a little tighter. I knew what was coming. Knew, and feared it. And part of me needed to delay it for as long as I could. Maybe if I did, Azriel might find me. Save me.

A false hope was better than no hope.

I swallowed heavily and said, “What is it you want?”

He paused, as if that was a question he hadn’t been expecting. “We wish your help in finding your father.”

“That’s not exactly true. You want the keys.”

“That is our ultimate objective, yes. To achieve it, we need Hieu.”

“My father might know the general direction of the keys, but he can’t actually find them for you. Which means you need me, as well.”

And that meant that no matter what they did to me, they couldn’t actually kill me. It wasn’t much comfort, however—not given what they’d already done.

“Your father knows the location of the keys, so actually finding them should not present a problem for him. You are not so much of a concern.”

“I beg to differ—if he could find the keys himself, he would have done so by now. But only one of his flesh can find the keys and, thanks to you guys, he can no longer take on flesh. So, logically, that leaves me.”

Of course, it was a statement that presumed he was actually telling the truth when it came to the keys, and I had a vague suspicion he wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway.

“What has been undone can be redone,” the disembodied voice said evenly. “That is not a concern.”

I was betting it was, because otherwise I’d have been dead. “You held my father prisoner, so why didn’t you force him to help you then?”

A slight shimmer of energy snagged my attention, simply because it
wasn’t
the darker energy belonging to the Raziq. I frowned, my gaze scanning the little cavern before coming to rest on Amaya.

She was definitely
closer
.

I had no idea how the hell she was achieving it, but I wasn’t about to question it. Having her in my hand probably wouldn’t make any difference to my situation, considering how the Raziq had divested me of her in the first place, but my fingers still itched to wrap
around her hilt. She gave me strength and made me feel safer—something I’d never thought possible when Azriel had first produced her.

“That,” the Raziq said, his voice no different and yet suddenly so filled with menace, “is knowledge you do not require.”

I licked my lips and said, “How am I supposed to find my father when he’s always been the one who’s contacted me?”