Darkness Devours (34 page)

I grinned. “So, next week then.”

If, I added silently—and somewhat grimly—I was still alive in a week’s time.

“Date,” he said.

I glanced at Azriel. He took the hint and whisked us out of there. Once we’d reappeared at home, I walked into the kitchen. Stane’s bitter coffee had woken me up, but I really needed something to eat if I was going to get through the rest of the evening.

I zapped a large helping of leftover lasagna in the microwave, then grabbed a fork and headed into the living room. Azriel was standing in the middle of it, his arms crossed and his pose watchful. Ever the guard, I thought, and wondered if reapers even knew how to relax.

“Not in the sense that humanity does,” he answered.

I dropped onto the nearest sofa. “As usual, that reply is not very informative.”

He half smiled. It sent a hum of delight swirling through me. “In very simple terms, we mingle energies and recharge.”

“Mingle energies? That sounds almost sexual.”

“There is no ‘almost’ about it.”

So in their free time, reapers basically ran around having sex? And they called werewolves horny bastards. “How different is it from human sex?”

This time the smile was full-blown and sexy, and it didn’t just swirl, it stormed, leaving me breathless and aching.

“It’s as different as night from day.”

A statement that did
nothing
to relieve the desire raging within me. I licked my lips and tried to concentrate on eating. However much my hormones might rage, now was
not
a good time for that sort of action. Christ, I was barely even capable of standing.

You don’t have to stand to make love,
my treacherous inner voice whispered.

I studiously ignored it and continued to shovel food in until the lasagna was almost gone and I was sure I could speak with some semblance of normalcy. Not that he’d be fooled—there was that damn chi link, after all.

“Is this mingling what you meant when you said you couldn’t make love to me as a reaper, because I wasn’t ready for it?”

His expression closed up again. “In a sense, yes.”

I sighed in frustration. Getting
any
sort of information out of him was like squeezing blood from a stone, but it was far worse when it came to questions about his life as a reaper.

Before I could say anything else, my phone rang, the sound sharp in the brief silence. The ringtone told me it was Hunter.

I briefly considered not answering it, but that wasn’t likely to do much. The bitch would just track me down and confront me in person. At least if she was on the other end of the phone, she didn’t have access to my thoughts.

“The reason I didn’t ring with an update,” I said without preamble, “is because there isn’t a whole lot to tell you. The Rakshasa sensed our presence in that room and made a run for it. Azriel wasn’t able to track it back to its lair.”

“That is extremely unfortunate given that the deadline clock is counting down.” Hunter’s voice was cool. “I do not wish to lose a good resource, Risa, so I suggest you do your utmost to catch this thing.”

I snorted softly. If she considered me a good resource, then her other resources obviously sucked big-time. My mother I was not.

“Trust me—I have no intention of getting dead just yet, but we do have a problem. I can’t stand guard in the viewing room tonight. The Rakshasa knows we are waiting for it now, so it’ll be overly cautious. We need to try something else.”

“Such as?”

I hesitated, thinking fast—not an easy task at the moment. “There are cameras installed in the ghosts’ feeding room, so would I be wrong in thinking there are some who get off on watching others feed and kill?”

“Yes.” She paused. “The camera feed goes down to several side rooms in the main bar.”

“What sort of side rooms?”

“The sort you find in werewolf bars,” she said, her voice dry. “The kind that allows participants privacy if they prefer.”

The image of a blood whore–addicted vampire jerking off while he watched another feed and kill made my stomach flip-flop, and I was suddenly glad I’d just
about finished the lasagna. “Surely we could snag one of those to use.”

“Only if your reaper remains ready to fight. Marshall cannot remain with you for that long, and it is only his presence by your side that gets you through the bar safely.”

I was betting Azriel had a whole lot more to do with that than she was giving him credit for. Every vampire might see him as something different, but reapers had a natural ability to see and take on whatever form a soul would most accept, so it was natural that they could also see what souls feared. Given the reaction of the nearby vamps, I was betting the latter was what he’d been projecting.

Still, being in such close proximity to that many hungry vamps wasn’t something I was keen on. “There have to be monitors elsewhere, surely. What about the security area?”

“The security area is not situated on-site—and the cameras in the feeding rooms do not transmit to the main system. We do not wish to risk anyone hacking into them.”

I wondered if Stane could, then erased the thought. That would only put him in unnecessary danger, and I refused to do that any more than I already was.

“But surely someone is keeping an eye on what goes on down there. I mean, you haven’t got an endless supply of whores—have you?”

“Of course not.” Hunter’s voice was cool. “That would be absurd—and illegal.”

My heart began to pound a little harder. It may have
been absurd and illegal, but my intuition was prickling, suggesting that’s
exactly
what they had.

An endless supply of blood whores could mean only one thing—they were being created
and
farmed. They
had
to be—how else could the vamps guarantee supply? And it would certainly explain the strange lack of memories in the two whores Azriel had tried to read, and their oddly identical eyes.

Fuck, this situation was getting deeper and shittier by the moment. And the worst thing was, I couldn’t
do
anything about it. I couldn’t even tell anyone. We’d all be dead in an instant if I did.

“Surely Marshall has monitors in his office.”

“He does not,” she replied coolly. “It is either the viewing room or one of the side rooms. Your choice.”

If I’d had a real choice, I would have gone back in time and recanted the words that had led me into this impossible situation. I’d known when I’d said them that it was stupid and dangerous, but I’d been so desperate for revenge that I think I would have agreed to enter hell itself if it meant finding Mom’s killer.

Working for Hunter, and being under threat from the vampire council, wasn’t exactly hell, but it wasn’t far off it, either. Especially considering that Hunter and the Cazadors were no closer to finding Mom’s killer than we were.

“Tell Marshall we’ll take one of the side rooms.” We simply couldn’t risk staying in the viewing room again. The Rakshasa’s hunger might force her to return, but I doubted that she would simply appear like she had the last time. After all, she now knew we were here and, at the very least, would be more cautious.

“That is very brave of you,” Hunter said. “The council will be impressed.”

And that, I suddenly realized, was the whole point of this exercise. Impressing the council, making them believe that keeping me alive was a far better option than killing me. This
wasn’t
about the Rakshasa or the vampire killings. This was about Hunter strengthening her power base.

And I was one of the foundation stones.

I rubbed my head wearily. If I’d had the energy I would have cursed long and fluently. But the truth of the matter was, I’d brought this on myself by agreeing to her terms back in that forest, and now I had no option but to deal with it.

“I don’t give a fuck whether the council are impressed or not. I just want to find this thing so I can concentrate on the business of finding the remaining keys.”

And with that I hung up. It might not have been wise, but I was way past tired and beyond caring.

“Then get some sleep,” Azriel suggested. “I will wake you when it is time to return to the club.”

My gaze rose to meet his. That thick sense of heat and desire still swirled within me, but stronger than that was the need to be held. Just held.

He took half a step forward, then stopped and clenched his fists. “Go,” he said, his voice holding a rough edge. “Rest.”

I briefly closed my eyes, and half wished Lucian was here. He, at least, would have understood the need for contact and comfort that wasn’t sexual—although truth be known, while he might have held me, it wouldn’t
have been for long. He was a sexual being, and that’s where it would have ended.

What I needed, I thought bitterly, was a straightforward relationship with a normal everyday man.

Someone like Jak—only less work oriented and more trustworthy.

But an ordinary man was
not
something I was likely to find anytime soon. Nor was it wise to bring such a man into my current situation.

Which meant, like it or not, I was going to bed alone. I forced my feet into action and walked into the bedroom, where I stripped and climbed under the sheets. It wasn’t long before sleep caught me, but it was far from peaceful. Visions haunted me—blood and death and needle-sharp talons that sliced flesh to the bone.

It was only when arms wrapped around me and pulled me close to a heated body that somehow made me feel safer than I’d ever felt that the dreams dissipated and I was finally able to sleep.

I followed Azriel into the bowels of Dark Earth, carefully watching where I placed each foot. It was pissing down outside, and although the hidden entrance looked solid, water seeped underneath it, making the steps slick and treacherous. The last thing I really needed right now was to break a leg.

Mind you, if there had been the slightest chance that a broken bone or two could have saved me from the high council’s edict, I might have considered the option.

We reached the long corridor and walked down to the door. It opened to reveal an impatient-looking Marshall.

He glanced at his watch when he saw us, then all but spat, “What the hell time do you think this is?”

“It’s five to twelve,” I said, somehow keeping my voice even, though all I really wanted to do was hit him one and then spin on my heel and walk out. I was working for
Hunter
, not her fucking lackey. “And it’s the same time we normally arrive, so why the carrying on?”

“Hunter told you—”

“Nothing,” I snapped. “As usual.”

Of course, I
had
hung up on the bitch. Maybe she’d hung me out to dry information-wise because of it.

Or maybe she’d never intended to tell me, especially if this was another bloody test.

Marshall’s grunt didn’t sound pleased. “Well, the place is fucking packed tonight, which is why I wanted you here earlier. I wanted to get you into the side room before the main rush.”

“Would it matter? Everyone in the main bar will know I’m there. They’ll hear my heartbeat.”

“Yeah, but without really seeing you, they’ll just presume you’re one of the thralls entertaining a client. Now they’ll know otherwise.” He glanced at Azriel. “Hope your friend has come prepared to fight, because if things get nasty—and I suspect they will, given the wait we have for the feeding rooms—I won’t be able to control it. Not with the size crowd we have.”

I stared at him for a moment, then said, with a touch of exasperation in my voice, “You can cut the act. I know the council intends to test me.”

“They want you tested, yes,” he spat back. “But I’m not entirely sure they want a bloodbath in this facility—which is exactly what they might get by introducing
fresh meat and inciting trouble at this hour of the evening.”

Dread rolled through me. “Fresh meat?”

He gave me a look that hovered between annoyance and concern. “We’re talking junkies here, remember? For most of them, any female in this club who
isn’t
a vampire has two purposes—to feed from or to provide sexual service. The thralls do the latter, the blood whores the former.”

And if this
did
all end up in a bloody fight, it would just make the whole situation worse. Fresh-flowing blood and hungry vampires were never a good mix. “Will you step in if things get bad?”

The look he gave me was answer enough. He’d been ordered not to.

“This way,” he all but growled, and turned, leading the way into the main room.

The doors closed silently behind us, and the darkness felt thicker, more oppressive, than before. I walked down the steps, my gaze sweeping the room, searching for the many vampires I could smell but not see. The stench of their hunger sharpened as we moved through them, until it seemed so thick that I could reach out and touch it. Fresh meat indeed.

I reached back and drew Amaya. She flared to life at my touch, her blade shadowed but dripping lilac rain across the floor. This time, her hissing was audible rather than just in my head. She was giving the nearby vamps a verbal warning not to come close—even though that’s exactly what she wanted. Her hunger and excitement ran like electricity through my mind, and I knew if I concentrated hard enough I’d understand
exactly
what she was saying—as I had when I’d been the Raziq’s prisoner. It might have been only one word, but it had been clear and it had helped me kill one of the bastards.

But I didn’t concentrate. To be honest, I wasn’t really ready to understand the language of my sword, and fear had a whole lot to do with it. I couldn’t escape the notion that understanding her might somehow make me more like her and less like me.

Which might seem silly in the cold light of day, but right now, with darkness and danger all around us and her hunger beating a drum inside my brain, making me itchy to react, it seemed a very real threat.

So I clenched her hilt tight and edged a little closer to Azriel as we trailed Marshall through the darkness. Sullen, hungry faces were briefly illuminated in the fire of Amaya’s brightness, then faded away, but the farther we moved into the room, the thicker and more dangerous the atmosphere became.