Darkness Rising: The Dark Angel Series: Book Two (35 page)

I stepped inside. It wasn’t just a single-story room, but rather three, with an atrium in the middle and a soaring, white-painted, window-lined, wooden ceiling. Moonlight poured through the glass, giving the room a cool, eerie feel. I took several more steps forward, trying to pin down the location of the energy that was burning across my senses. The Dušan stirred and writhed, moving from the left to the right as she did so. I frowned, wondering if she was actually giving me a hint. I walked right. While bookcases lined the upper level and there was a café below, this level was filled with information boards and the artifacts that had been collected over the many years of restoration. I walked past several boards then stopped suddenly as the energy all but exploded, blasting heat across my skin and making Amaya hiss her fury.

It was here. Somewhere.

I scanned the half-height boxes, seeing the remnants
of a rusted garden seat, the strap off an iron fence post, and a pickax.

It had to be that.
Had
to be.

“Have you found it?” Lucian asked softly.

“I think so,” I said, reaching for it.

But my fingers had barely brushed the wooden handle when hell broke loose around us.

“What the fuck—?” Lucian said, spinning around.

“That dormant magic,” Azriel said grimly, “is no longer so dormant. And we are no longer alone. We need to leave—now!”

I gripped the pickax’s rough handle firmly as he wrapped his arms around me. Power surged—
his
power—running through every muscle, every fiber, until my whole body sang to its tune. But this time it failed to make us into energy beings, failed to transport us into the gray fields and away from the mansion.

Valdis spat and screamed—an echo of her master’s frustration, I suspected.

“What’s wrong?” I said, fear gripping me as he stepped back and drew the sword.

“The magic is preventing travel through the gray fields.” His gaze went past me, and his expression became grim. I didn’t even want to look. “Can you take Aedh form?”

I reached for her immediately. Her response was swift and harsh, no doubt due to the tension twisting my insides, but nothing happened.

“It is as I expected,” Azriel said. “We have stepped neatly into another trap.”

“Then we fight our way out of it,” Lucian said,
drawing the long knives out of their sheathes and running to the right.

It was then I saw them.

Twisted, half-human, half-animal beings.

Fuck.

I drew Amaya. Her anger filled me, shoring up my courage. And I needed every ounce of it as I turned around and saw that there weren’t just one or two of these creatures, but at least a dozen. Their inhuman faces were twisted by madness, and bloodlust shone in their eyes. Whatever—whoever—had done this to them, they’d killed any remnants of humanity left within them.

“Stay behind me,” Azriel said. “We’ll try to get to the door.”

But even as he said it, the creatures surged forward. He swung Valdis, the blade screaming as her fire sent blue lightning flashing across the moon-cooled shadows. Body parts went flying but they didn’t seem to care, just kept on coming—a relentless tide from which there seemed no escape.

They swarmed over him and lunged at me. I moved backward, Amaya gripped in one hand, the pickax in the other, swinging both as hard as I could. My arms shuddered every time a weapon hit flesh, but it didn’t seem to make a difference to the tide of bodies in front of me.

And their stench … they smelled like humans who were now rotting inside. My stomach twisted and rolled, but I wasn’t entirely sure the smell was solely responsible for that.

From the back of the pack, blue fire begun to erupt, and I knew Azriel was attempting to return to me. I
had no idea where Lucian was, but I could hear the howls and screams of creatures to the right and guessed he was still doing damage.

A shadow leapt above the writhing mass of twisted flesh, coming at me with speed—a dark form with feline features and half-furred skin. It resembled a man-sized cat—a cat with twisted, yellowed canines and hands that ended in long sharp claws. I ducked, letting the thing arc high above me, and swung Amaya. Her hissing was lost to the inhuman sounds these things were making, but her black blade sliced through the creature’s underbelly with ease. Blood and gore rained down on me as the creature’s momentum sent it tumbling over the railings and down onto the floor below.

I didn’t look to see if it was dead. I didn’t have the time.

Another creature leapt at me. I backed away, hit the railing that ringed the void, and swung both weapons. The creature snarled and twisted, its clawed hands lashing out—not for me, but for the pickax. They were after the key,
not
us.

I tightened my grip on the ax’s wooden handle as the creature tried to wrest it from my hands. It yanked me forward, into its body, clogging my senses with its reek as it snapped at my face with its teeth. I jerked backward, felt its canines slide down my cheek—marking but not cutting flesh—and lashed Amaya sideways, almost slicing it in half. Blood spurted and it howled, but it didn’t let go, tossing me left and right as it tried to win control of the ax.

Then two more creatures hit us, their momentum so fierce they sent us all tumbling over the railing and
onto the floor below. We landed in a screaming tumble of arms and legs, the jolt so fierce that my breath whooshed out of my lungs and knives of pain speared my newly healed ribs. The pickax went flying from my grip, but Amaya stuck like glue, her blade flaming and her murderous hissing strong and clear in my mind.

She wanted blood. I gave it to her, swinging wildly at the nearest creatures as they scrambled to get up … after the pickax or simply wanting to get clear of the murderous blade?

I pushed backward, out from underneath the last of the creatures, then staggered to my feet. I was barely upright when the creatures flung themselves at me. But even as I backed away, slashing left and right with the sword, the strangeness of their behavior had me frowning. If they were intending to attack, why wait until I was on my feet to do so? And why, when there were three of them, did they not simply attack en masse rather than one at a time?

It made no sense.

Not the way these creatures were behaving, and certainly not the fact they were even here. If the Raziq
were
behind this, why didn’t they come themselves? Why risk sending these creatures when the three of us could never best a full complement of Aedh, no matter what Lucian and Azriel might think?

Claws lashed at me. I jumped back, hissing in pain as the movement jarred my ribs, but this time I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the creature’s way and its claws caught my jacket, tearing it to ribbons. But again, it didn’t slice into flesh.

They definitely
weren’t
trying to kill me. Despite the murderous light in their eyes and the desperate hunger that filled the air, something—or someone—had leashed them.

And there could be only one reason. Someone
other
than the Raziq, the reapers, and the vampire council was after the keys.

Even as the thought crossed my mind, energy caressed the room. An energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. My skin crawled in response, and Amaya’s hissing became so fierce it just about shattered my eardrums.

It wasn’t the energy of the Raziq. It was something else. Something that could make a demon sword burn with anticipation.

And she
was
burning. The black blade had given way to fierce purple flames that licked out across the shadows, burning everything she touched—be it flesh or furniture.

In the light of her fire, I saw the figure. It was man-shaped and indistinct, and it moved with speed, half searching under tables and in the deeper shadows.

It wasn’t one of the creatures, and it was looking for the ax.

“No!” I yelled, and swung Amaya as hard as I could, battering away the nearest creature, forcing it backward with the force of the blow even as the black blade sliced it apart. Blood spewed, spraying across my face and body, covering me in its putrid, sticky stench, but I didn’t care, diving toward the shadow in a desperate attempt to stop it.

Then the last of the three creatures who’d tumbled down with me hit my legs, dragging me down. My
chin hit the edge of a chair and for a moment I saw stars. I cursed, kicking at the thing holding me. Bone cracked and more blood spurted, its scent stinging the air. The creature held on, screaming in fury and pain, but not attacking.

Ahead, the indistinct form bent and reached for something. The ax. I twisted and wildly swung Amaya at the thing holding me in place. The blade bit through the creature’s neck and my legs, severing the creature’s head but not even scratching me as it passed through my flesh.

Even headless, the fucking thing wouldn’t let go.

And then it was too late, because the dark, bitter energy fell abruptly away, and the shadowy figure was gone.

As was the ax.

A
DOZEN DIFFERENT SWEAR WORDS RACED
through my mind, but I didn’t bother saying them. I swung Amaya again, this time slicing away the arms that still held me so tightly. As the limbs fell away from the creature’s body, I kicked it off me and staggered to my feet. Someone hit the ground behind me and I swung around, Amaya raised. It was Azriel. He was covered not only in the stinking blood of the creatures, but in his own. Wounds crisscrossed his stomach and right arm, and blood seeped down the fingers that gripped Valdis.

His gaze swept me, then he said, “The ax?”

“Gone. And it wasn’t the Raziq.”

He swore—at least I think he swore because it wasn’t any language I understood—and thrust a hand through his damp hair. “I was not aware that there was anyone else after the keys.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered, and glanced up as something moved on the floor above us.

Lucian appeared, leaning over the side, his face bruised, clothes torn, but a fierce light in his eyes. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, but the ax is gone.”

He leapt over the railing, landing with grace and little noise. “The Raziq, I gather?”

I shook my head. “Not unless the Raziq use blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” He stopped to one side of Azriel, smelling of sweat and blood and anger barely leashed. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I felt it, and because I saw the man involved.”

“You saw him?” Azriel said quickly, then his gaze narrowed. “No. You only saw an indistinct shape.”

“Enough to know it was a man. A tall man.” I hesitated, squashing down the instinctive flash of irritation. As he’d said, there was nothing I could do about him accessing my thoughts, so I’d better get used to it. Which was easier thought than done. “It’s a start, at least.”

Azriel’s expression suggested that as starts went, it pretty much sucked. “The magic that prevented us from leaving has dissipated. We should go.”

“I can’t. I’ll need to report this.” Because if I didn’t and Rhoan got wind of it—which he undoubtedly would—then I’d be in deep shit.

Not that I wouldn’t be in deep shit as it was.

I glanced at Lucian. “You’d better leave. There’s no sense in you being here when the Directorate arrives. That’ll only result in hours of questioning.”

“And with my workload, that is not something I desire.” He sheathed his bloodied long knives and bent to kiss my cheek. “Call me when you’re free and we can plan our next assault.”

I nodded. He touched my shoulder lightly, then
gave Azriel a somewhat dark look and walked across to the café’s door, opening it with the pick then leaving.

I glanced at Azriel. “Are all the creatures dead?”

He nodded and replaced Valdis. Her blue fire had quieted, even though Amaya still hissed and spat. But flames no longer drenched her blade, and the café was no longer ablaze. So maybe her cry was a reflection of the anger and hurt that still burned inside of me.

“The magic that prevented us from taking our energy forms also smacked of the dark arts,” he said. “I suspect the source is the same.”

I nodded and wearily pulled out my phone. I eyed it for a few moments, knowing I had to call Uncle Rhoan as soon as possible but, at the same time, wanting to delay the inevitable for as long as I could.

“Who else could be after the damn keys?” I glanced at Azriel. “And why?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“But would you, if you could?”

“Yes.”

I grunted, feeling the truth of his words swirl somewhere deep inside. “I can’t understand why anyone else would even want the keys! I mean, if they can’t traverse the gray fields, they can’t get near the gates, so what’s the point of stealing them?”

“It can only be another Aedh—one we know nothing about—or someone like you. Someone who wears human flesh but is gifted psychically, and who has the ability to walk the fields.”

“You left reapers out of that group.”

“Yes, because no reaper can use black magic.”

“Really? Why? Is it in your makeup or something?”

“In a sense, yes.” He shrugged.