Darkness Rising: The Dark Angel Series: Book Two (5 page)

I swallowed heavily. “So this is a test?”

“And you had better pass if you value your life.”

“I
F THEY KILL ME,”
I
SAID EVENTUALLY, MY
throat so dry it felt like the words were being scraped out, “they won’t ever find the keys.”

“That,” she said coolly, “is precisely the point.”

“But—” I paused, my thoughts filled with panic and going a dozen different ways. “I thought the reason the council recruited me in the first place was to find the keys so that they could use them?”

“It was. It is.”

The rhythm of her nails on the desk suddenly stopped, and something flickered in her eyes. Something dark and very deadly. A chill hit me and the sick sensation of fear ratcheted up several notches—though up until that point I hadn’t thought that was possible.

Because, in that brief instant, I’d seen death. Not my death—not yet, anyway. But someone else’s, someone who’d had the stupidity to cross her path.

“Only a very small fraction have decided it would be better to keep the keys unfound,” she continued. “Unfortunately, all voices on the council must be heard, and efforts to persuade them otherwise have so far proven ineffective. Which means it is up to you to prove your worth to them.”

I licked my lips and said, “So this councilor who’s dying—is it possible that one of the lesser members of the council has decided he or she needs to be higher on the ladder?”

“It is always possible, but there are easier ways to do that.”

I was curious despite the fear twisting my insides. After all, it wasn’t often you got the chance to hear about the inner workings of the local vamp council. They were a secretive lot at the best of times. Hell, most people didn’t even know there was both a local council and the overall high council, situated in Melbourne. “Like how?”

Her shrug was oddly graceful. “There is always the blood challenge.”

“Which I’m gathering is a physical challenge of some sort?”

“Of some sort, yes.” This time, amusement touched not only her lips but also her eyes, and it was a fearsome sight. “The winner wins the right to drain the blood of the loser.”

“Killing them?”

“No. Under most circumstances, it merely weakens them.”

I wondered about the exception to that rule, but didn’t say anything. Instead I asked, “Yet vamps do kill one another to gain position on the hierarchical ladder, do they not?”

“Of course. But that is different.”

I couldn’t actually see how, but then, vampires didn’t always think with human—or, in my case, nonhuman—sensibilities.

“So where are Boulanger and Alston on the hierarchical ladder?”

“It does not matter, as I doubt ascension is the cause.”

“Why? If both die, all those vampires below them automatically step up a couple of rungs, don’t they?”

“It is not that simple. There are levels rather than rungs. The kill and the killer must be acknowledged and confirmed before he or she can move up to the next classification.”

Which sounded a whole lot more formal and complicated than I’d expected. “It’s still something that should be investigated.”

“There are Cazadors examining that situation as we speak.” She pushed to her feet. “I wish an update once you talk to Catherine. I need to keep the council informed as to your progress.”

“And what if there isn’t any?”

“I still wish an update.”

Her expression made me gulp. No progress was
not
an option if I valued my life. “Is it possible to get a list of anyone who might have held a grudge against Alston and Boulanger?”

“That could be a very long list.”

“Meaning you’ll arrange it?”

“The list is being prepared as we speak,” she said, a cool smile teasing her lips again. “But it is an encouraging sign that you’ve asked. You might yet survive this little task of ours.”

She turned and walked out of the room, but her scent and her presence lingered, casting darkness through the sunlit room.

As soon as she’d vanished, Azriel reappeared. Valdis lay quiet across his back. “She does not linger. She has left the house.”

Tension slithered from my limbs, and I blew out a breath. “Do you have any idea what might be attacking the councilors?”

He shrugged. “There are many things—both in the gray fields and beyond—capable of such acts.”

“But surely most of them would have enough sense not to attack a councilor.”

“Most of them,” he corrected, “would only do so if ordered. Those who break through the dark gates under their own power are generally not so selective with their targets.”

Probably because they knew the Mijai would be on their tails, and that, if they were caught, their fate would be eternal death, not eternal hell. “Has anything like that broken through recently?”

He shrugged. “Things break though all the time.”

In other words, either he had no idea or he wasn’t going to tell me. I squashed the flare of irritation and glanced at my watch. It was nearly ten thirty, so I had to get going if I wanted to make my appointment with Catherine Alston. Given that she was a high councilor—and generally you had to have a few hundred years under your belt to even be considered for the local council—I suspected it would be a bad move to be late. I met Azriel’s gaze again. “Are you going to be present at the interview?”

“Do you wish me to be?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “We both know you’re going to be listening in anyway, and I think I’d feel safer if you were an actual, physical presence.”

“Meaning you do not trust this vampire?”

“Right now, I’m not much into trusting anyone.”

He studied me for a moment, his face as impassive as ever even if I felt an odd sense of fierceness emanating from him. “Even me?”

Especially you,
I wanted to say, but that wasn’t entirely true. “I wouldn’t be asking you to watch my back if I didn’t trust you to do it.”

“Which does not entirely answer the question.”

“No, it does not.”

I gathered my things from the table then brushed past him and headed down the stairs. No footsteps followed me, but I felt his presence nonetheless. And this time, annoyance seemed to mingle with the fierce heat of him.

Although why he’d be annoyed I wasn’t entirely sure. At least I was being honest—which was a lot more than I could say about
him.

My phone rang as I neared the front door. I tucked everything under my arm, then dug the phone out of my pocket with my other hand.

“Tao,” I said, as his handsome features appeared on the vid-phone’s screen. “What’s up? Is there a problem at the café?”

Tao, Illiana, and I weren’t only best friends who shared an apartment together, we also co-owned RYT’s—a café situated right in the heart of Lygon Street’s famed restaurant and club district. We had a prime position near the Blue Moon, and had been so busy lately that all of us had been working extra shifts. Not that I particularly minded; the more I worked, the less time I had to think about Mom. But
it also meant I had less free time to spend with Lucian, who’d come to my rescue a couple of months ago and had quickly become my lover. He’d never be anything more than that, because—like Reapers—Aedh were unemotional creatures. Lucian might be a sexual being, but he didn’t want or need anything more. Which was okay by me. Having suffered the heartbreak of one broken romance, I wasn’t ready to step into another. Sex for the fun of it was all I wanted right now. And with Lucian, fun was
always
guaranteed.

Tao laughed, the warm sound jarring against the cold stillness of the house. “Can’t I call my best friend without her expecting something to be up?”

“Tao,” I said, a touch impatiently as I slammed the front door shut and coded the alarm, “it’s your day off and it’s only ten thirty in the morning. So there
has
to be a problem if you’re already out of bed.”

His warm brown eyes were twinkling, which meant the problem—if there was one—wasn’t major. “Hey, maybe I just never got
into
bed.”

“Oh, you were in bed,” I said wryly, “but whose is the million-dollar question. And if you say Candy, I will kill you.”

“Then I won’t say Candy.”

“Tao! She’s the best waitress we’ve got, and she’s not a wolf.”

“So?”

“So you know humans take sex more seriously than wolves, and she’s just going to quit like all the others when she realizes that you’re never going to be anything more than casual.”

“And if Candy herself doesn’t want or need anything more than casual?”

“How many times have you heard humans say that, and how many times has it actually been true?” I said impatiently. “Damn it, Tao, we have a hands-off policy for a reason.”

The humor in his eyes faded at the testiness in my voice. “I know, and honestly, I didn’t seek this out. Quite the reverse.”

“You should still know better.”

He snorted. “Why? Because I’m a man? Why should it always fall on the male of the species when it comes to self-control?”

“It shouldn’t,” I agreed. “But you’re the
boss
and you shouldn’t be fucking around with employees. Literally
or
figuratively.”

He muttered something under his breath, then said, “Stane gave me a call this morning. He’s finally picked up the nanowires we asked for. He needs us to drop by his place ASAP so he can fit them.”

“Fit them?” I said, frowning. “Don’t you just click them on like a necklace?”

“Not these, apparently. We did say cost was no object, so he’s gone for the latest technology.”

I grunted. Cost
wasn’t
an object—not when we had vampires like Hunter to deal with. “I’ve got a couple of appointments I have to deal with first, so I won’t get there till midafternoon at the earliest.”

“He’ll be there.” He hesitated, then added in a softer tone, “Are you okay?”

I smiled at the concern so evident in both his voice and his expression. We might be long-time friends
and past lovers, but that didn’t really do justice to the depth of our relationship. We weren’t soul mates, but I couldn’t ever imagine living without Tao—and Ilianna.

“Yes,” I said. And, for the first time in weeks, almost meant it.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“Wait!” I said. Then as he paused, I added, “Can get you get Stane to sweep our apartment for bugs? I’ve got a feeling either the council or the Directorate is listening in.”

“Why the hell would they want to do that?”

“Because they’re after information about my father, just like everyone else.”

He grunted. “You’d think they’d realize by now that we know jack-shit, but I’ll ask.”

“Thanks. See you tonight.”

I hung up, then shoved the phone back into my pocket and walked across to my bike. Once I’d tucked everything into the under-seat storage, I pulled on my helmet, then glanced at the house one final time.
Good-bye,
I thought.
May you bring the next family better luck.

“A house is an inanimate object,” Azriel commented, suddenly appearing beside me. “It can bring neither good luck nor bad.”

“I really wish you’d keep out of my head!”

“I would, except for the fact you sometimes have very interesting thoughts.”

I glanced at him, bemused despite my annoyance. “Only sometimes?”

He nodded, his expression impassive but with that
almost devilish glint back in his eyes. “It’s more than can be said about most humans.”

“As I’ve noted before, I’m not human.”

He bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “And for that, I am extremely grateful. My task might otherwise be extremely tedious.”

Then he winked out of existence again, leaving me wavering between amusement and surprise. “Well, at least someone’s having a good time,” I muttered, climbing onto my old silver Ducati. She fired up quickly, the hydrogen engine making little noise as we cruised out the gates and down the street.

The Green Tower was located in the Docklands precinct of Melbourne, and the building itself was something of an enigma. While most of the towers close by were the standard straight-up-and-down glass buildings, the Green Tower was spiral in design. From a distance, it almost looked like a twisting tree trunk. Recycled wooden louvers—which were apparently powered by the photovoltaic arrays that lined its rooftop and provided much of the building’s power—lined its sides and tracked the position of the sun even as they sheltered the building from the worst of the heat.

The underground parking lot was for residents only, so I found street parking, then walked back. Azriel appeared beside me as I entered the lobby.

The balding guard glanced up and gave us a cool smile. I wondered what he was seeing Azriel as, because it obviously wasn’t his half-naked, sword-carrying self. “May I help you?” he said.

“I’m Risa Jones. I have an appointment with Catherine Alston.”

“One moment please and I’ll check with her.” He turned away and made his call, and a few moments later returned with a far warmer attitude.