Darkness Rising: The Dark Angel Series: Book Two (36 page)

Meaning, that was all the information I was about to get. Although, to be fair, maybe he simply didn’t know himself. “I may be able to walk the fields, but I’ve never seen the gates. In fact, as far as I know, I’ve never been anywhere near them.”

“Which does not preclude the possibility of someone else possessing the same set of skills as you not seeing or knowing of them.”

True. I rubbed a hand across my face, smearing blood, sweat, and God knew what else, then glanced down at my phone again and sighed. Better do it now, while I still had some energy to face him.

I pressed a button on the phone and said, “Uncle Rhoan.” Colors swirled across the screen as the voice-recognition software jumped into action.

A few seconds later his cheerful features replaced the multicolored swirl. “Hey Ris,” he said, but his smile quickly faded. “What the fuck has happened to you this time?”

“Long story. But you might want to get the Directorate over to the Werribee mansion. There’s a whole heap of dead, half-human-shifter things here.”

“Damn it, Risa, I told you to let me investigate the half-shifters!”

“I did. I
am.
This isn’t related to that, but something else.”

“The fucking keys, at a guess. Why didn’t you call in help?”

“I
had
help.” And probably better help than anything either he or the Directorate could provide—and
safer, too, given Director Hunter’s interest in the whole affair. I had no doubt I’d catch flak over my failure to keep her informed as to what we were up to, but that was something I was willing to face. The whole idea of the vampire council getting control of the gates made my skin crawl. “Look, please, just come down here, so I can tell you what happened and then go home to scrub myself clean.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but the phone was ripped from his grasp as Aunt Riley appeared. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you want me there?”

It was on my tongue to say no, then I hesitated. One of the reasons Riley was still hooked to the Directorate was her ability to talk to the dead. Or rather, the
souls
of the dead. “Hang on.” I glanced around, but couldn’t see any reapers other than Azriel.

“There aren’t,” he said softly. “These deaths were not ordained.”

I glanced back at the phone. “It might be worth trying to talk to the souls of these things. We might be able to learn something about their maker.”

“Good idea. I’ll bring some fresh clothes for you, too. You might want to clean yourself up first. Trust me, you’ll feel better without all that gore over you.”

I couldn’t argue with that, so I signed off and looked at Azriel. “How long before whatever you did to the guards wears off?”

“Just under an hour.”

“Time enough to find the bathroom, then.” I hesitated, my gaze sweeping his bloodied, grimy torso. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “This is merely flesh. I am unharmed where it matters.”

“But you can be hurt—even killed—in flesh form, can’t you?”

“Killed, yes, but the wounds affecting this vessel are not painful and will heal once I claim my natural form.”

My gaze skimmed his body again. Some of those wounds looked pretty deep.

“I’m fine, Risa,” he said softly. “Go find your water. I’m sure your friends will appreciate the effort.”

In other words, I stank. I snorted softly and headed for the café door. It only took me a couple of minutes to find the bathroom and I quickly stripped off, rolling up my T-shirt and using it to wash off the worst of the gore.

Thankfully, the coat had protected my sweater, even if the left sleeve had been shredded by the shifter’s claws. But my jeans were unsalvageable. I dumped them in the waste bin along with my undies, then washed my hands and headed out, suddenly glad that my sweater was long enough to cover my butt. Although the cold night air teased me in unmentionable ways that had my pulse rate humming happily.

Or maybe that was a result of the brief look Azriel gave me as I walked back into the room.
Intense
didn’t even begin to describe it. And though it was a weight I felt deep inside, I wasn’t entirely sure just exactly what it meant. Frowning, I walked around the other side of the café counter to raid the cookie jar, picking out a huge chocolate chip one as well as a macadamia and white chocolate.

“So,” I said, meeting his gaze again, a little relieved that the intensity had been replaced by his more normal inscrutability. “How will we know if whoever has stolen the key has used it?”

“We will feel it.”

“We? As in, you and I, or everyone who lives in this world and the next?”

“Those who are connected to the fields or who can walk them will feel it. That’s how we became aware of the keys first being tested on the portals.”

I frowned. “I didn’t feel anything when they did that.”

He shrugged. “It might have been nothing more than a sense of unease that you weren’t able to place.”

Maybe. And maybe he was overestimating my abilities. “These people might not have stolen the key to force the portals closed.”

“No.” Grimness briefly flickered through his expression before he caught himself. “And I do not know what will happen should the gates be eternally forced open. None of us do.”

“How could it be worse than that whole human-race-becoming-zombies scenario?”

“That,” he said, and this time the grimness did more than flicker, “would be a walk in the park compared to the hordes of hell being unleashed.”

God, I thought, it would be hell on earth. Literally.

My phone rang, making me jump. I glanced down, saw it was Hunter, and mentally let loose a string of curses. I might be willing to face her fury, but I’d been hoping to get a few Cokes—or even something stronger—under my belt first.

I was tempted to ignore the call, but I was willing to bet that would just make her angrier. I answered.

“So,” she said, her voice like the Arctic, “just when were you planning to inform me about this key-finding mission? One I gather has now gone spectacularly wrong?”

“When I had the key in my hand.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. I would have told her; I just wouldn’t have given it to her.

“Which you do not.”

“No. A trap was set and, unfortunately, we sprang it.”

“Why did you not call for help? The Cazadors—”

“If reapers and an Aedh could not stop this attack, what hope do you think the Cazadors would have?”

Her green eyes flashed dangerously. “Do not doubt the capabilities of the Cazadors. They are more powerful than you know.”

I doubted that, given I knew a whole lot about them from Uncle Quinn. “Look, Aunt Riley’s coming down—”

“I am well aware what Riley Jenson is up to. She is of no concern at this moment.”

And I bet she’d
love
to know that. But all I said was, “Has Selwin lifted the Maniae curse?”

“Yes. And in return, she will receive the protection of a new master when she turns.” Heat suddenly burned through the cool depths of her eyes. Heat and anticipation. “You have earned yourself quite an enemy, young Risa. I would watch your step if I were you.”

“To be honest, she can take a number and stand in line, because she’s the
least
of my worries.”

“That is possibly true.” She paused, and a small, cool smile touched her lips. Oh,
fuck.
The crap was about to hit the fan. “From now on, you will have a Cazador by your side. Day in, and day out.”

“Oh come on,” I retorted. “That’s—”

“The way it will be. Or else.” She stared at me, and though her gaze was as blank as her expression, a chill nevertheless went through me. Because that was the face of a vampire intent on a kill. And though I had Azriel and Amaya, I had a suspicion they wouldn’t be enough if Hunter decided the council was right and I needed to die.

I licked my lips, my heart going a million miles an hour as I said, “No vampire is coming into my apartment. Not you, and not this fucking Cazador you’re assigning me.”

She inclined her head. “Do not try to lose the Cazador, or I shall lose you.”

“Fine,” I muttered, then hit the
END
button and glanced at Azriel. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

“Yes.” He paused, his gaze turning to the café’s door. “And I’m afraid it’s not over yet. Your friends have just arrived.”

“Bring them on. After all, what’s one more bucket-load given I’m swimming in a sea of it?” I stalked across to the refrigerator and pulled out several cans of Coke. What I really needed was to get stinkingly, mind-buzzingly drunk, but given that wasn’t an option for several hours at least, Coke would have to do.

* * *

As it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t
great,
but I think Riley’s presence tempered the worst of Rhoan’s anger. He merely yelled at me for five minutes rather than attempting to violently shake some sense into me like I think he wanted to.

I pulled another chocolate chip cookie from the jar—a jar that had started off full but was now half empty—and watched Riley. She was squatting next to one of the half-beasts, her face almost covered by the long sweep of her red-gold hair. What I could see of her expression was distant, but her lips moved. She was talking to the soul of the creature she knelt next to, which to me was little more than a wisp of fog. I didn’t know what it was saying. And while I might yet be forced to learn how to communicate with them, I honestly preferred to stick to talking to the souls of the living. There was enough grief and pain in doing that. I didn’t need to lump the anger and confusion of a ghost on top of it.

Behind Riley stood Uncle Quinn, her lover and the vampire who had taught me how to use my Aedh skills. He was, in every way, angelic, from his beautiful face that was framed by night-dark hair to his well-toned body. Of course, the angelic looks weren’t exactly a surprise because he was Aedh. Not a full blood, but a half-breed just like me. Only he was older. Centuries and centuries older.

He wasn’t just watching Riley, though. He was connected to her by the press of his flesh against hers and via the psychic link they shared, giving her an anchor to this world. As Riley’s clairvoyant abilities had grown, so had the danger of her being permanently
drawn into the between world. Using Quinn as her rock in this world greatly lessened the risk.

I continued to watch them, munching on my cookie and absurdly aware of Azriel’s presence at my shoulder. His arms were crossed and he was watching Riley with something close to surprise.

Because there are few in this world who could even attempt what she now does,
he said, not bothering to glance at me.
It is extremely dangerous to step into the lost lands as fully as she does.

Hence the use of Uncle Quinn as an anchor.

Yes.
His gaze flicked briefly to the man in question.
He was once a priest, was he not?

He trained as one, but never completed it.

Then why do you not go to him for information about the priests? He would be of more use than your Aedh.

I flicked a hand toward them.
Riley needs him more. And to be honest, I’ve endangered enough people by including them in this fucking quest.

There are casualties in any war, Risa.

Yeah,
I snapped back,
but if I can avoid those casualties being my friends, I will.

He didn’t say anything to that. But then, he was well aware that anything he said would more than likely just make me angrier.

After several more minutes, Riley sighed and pushed to her feet. Quinn rose behind her, one hand under her elbow, steadying her. Her face was pale and her eyes haunted.

She brushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face, then said grimly, “These things were not willing
recipients of the magic that changed their beings and their souls.”

“It was forced onto them?” I said, not entirely surprised. It would explain the madness in their eyes, for a start.

She nodded and leaned into Quinn. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lightly kissed the top of her head. I smiled a little wistfully, and half wondered if I’d ever find a man to hold me like that.

“They were homeless before the change, and they don’t remember much beyond being held captive underground for a long period of time.”

Meaning they weren’t Razan, which matched the fact that they weren’t tattooed like the other Razan we’d caught or killed. “And they have no idea where that was?”

She shook her head.

“What of the practitioner?” Azriel asked.

Riley’s gaze flicked to him, her expression neutral. She was waiting to learn more about the being before she passed judgment on him, and I knew her hesitation was no doubt caused by some of the comments I’d made previously. “That part of their memories has been burned away. I doubt whether we’d be able to retrieve it even if they were alive.”

“We certainly tried with the other fellow we interrogated,” Rhoan said as he jumped over the railing and landed lightly on our floor. “We didn’t get very far—although the Directorate’s witches said there was a decidedly dark flavor to the magic.”