Darkness Hunts (DA 4) (39 page)

“On the contrary, the wound was quite small—two slashes on either side of his abdomen.” She hesitated. “He did not appear to die in agony. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“I guess that’s some comfort—”

“He’s
dead
,” she cut in harshly. “How is that ever going to be a comfort?”

I should have known I’d get my head bitten off if I tried sympathy on the bitch. “Where is his body? And is the Directorate being called in on this?”

If it was, it could get tricky. Uncle Rhoan worked for them—he was, in fact, second in charge of the guardian division these days—but he had no idea I was working for Hunter and the council. And I wanted to keep it that way, because the shit would really hit the fan if he and Aunt Riley ever found out. They’d always considered me one of their pack, but that protectiveness had increased when Mom had died. They’d kill me if they knew I’d agreed to work with Hunter—and once they’d dealt with me, they’d track her down and confront her. And
that
was a situation that could
never
end nicely.

I’d already endangered the lives of too many people I cared about by dragging them into this mad quest for the keys—I didn’t want to make the situation worse in any way.

“Yes, they are,” she said, “but Jack has been made aware of my wishes in this, and will ensure you get first bite at the crime scene.”

Amusement briefly ran through me, although I doubted her pun had been intentional. “That really doesn’t help with the problem—”

“Rhoan Jenson will not get in the way of this. You are a consultant, nothing more, as far as he is concerned.”

I snorted. “A consultant you’re using to hunt and kill.”

“Yes. And you would do well to remember that you remain alive only as long as the council and I agree on your usefulness.”

“And—” Azriel said, suddenly standing behind me. His closeness had desire stirring, even though I had little enough energy to spare. “—you would do well to remember that
any
attempt to harm her would be met with even more deadly force.”

Hunter smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about it. “We both know you cannot take a life without just cause, reaper, so do not make your meaningless threats to me.”

“What I have done once I can do again,” he said, his voice stony. “And in this case, as in the last, I would revel in a death taken before its time.”

Azriel, stop poking the bear. I’ve already antagonized her enough.

That is a somewhat absurd statement, given she is clearly vampire, not bear.

Amusement slithered through me again, as he’d no doubt intended. He’d grown something of a sense of humor of late—which was, according to him, a consequence of spending far too much time in flesh form. Whether that was true, I had no idea, but I certainly preferred this more “human” version to the remote starchiness that had been present when he’d first appeared.
You know what I mean.

Surprisingly, I do.
He touched my shoulder, the contact light but somehow possessive.
But her threats grow tedious. She must be made aware it gains her nothing.

Hunter laughed. The sound was harsh, cold, and sent another round of chills down my spine. “Reaper, you amuse me. One of these days, when I’m tired of this life, I might just be tempted to take you on.”

And she was crazy enough to do it, too.

“However,” she continued, “that time is
not
now. I will send you my friend’s address, Risa. The Directorate will arrive at his home at four. Please be finished with your initial investigation before then, and report your impressions immediately.”

I glanced at my watch. She’d given me a whole hour. Whoop-de-do. “Where does he live, and what sort of security system has he got in place?”

“I’ve just sent you all his details.”

My cell phone beeped almost immediately. I picked it up and glanced at the message. Hunter’s friend—who went by the very German-sounding name Wolfgang Schmidt—lived in Brighton, a very upmarket suburb near the beach. No surprise there, I guess—I certainly couldn’t imagine her slumming it with the regular folk in places like Broadmeadows or Dandenong.

I read the rest of the text, then glanced up at the main phone’s screen again. “Is the security system just key coded?”

“Yes. Wolfgang is—
was
—a very old-fashioned vampire. He saw no need for anything more than a basic system.”

And maybe, just maybe, that had gotten him killed. While there was no electronic security system on earth that would actually
stop
a demon, it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that something other than a demon had killed her vampire friend.

I mean, no one could ever be one hundred percent right all the time. Not even Hunter—although I’m sure
she’d
claim otherwise. And really, what sane person would argue the point with her when she wasn’t?

Certainly not me.

And yet you do,
Azriel commented, a trace of amusement in his mental tone.

I think we’ve already established I’m not always sane.
To Hunter, I added, “You’re not going to be there?”

“No.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I have”—she hesitated, and an almost predatory gleam touched her gaze—”a meeting that needs to be attended.”

If that gleam was any indication, the so-called meeting involved bloodshed of some kind. After all, the council—and Hunter—considered it perfectly acceptable to punish those who strayed by allowing them to be ripped to shreds by younger vampires.

Still, it seemed odd that she wasn’t hanging around to garner my impressions, especially if she cared for the dead man as much as I suspected.

Like many who have lived for centuries, she has strayed from the path of humanity,
Azriel commented.
For her, emotions are fleeting, tenuous things.

But not all those who live so long find that fate.
Uncle Quinn, for instance, was as emotional as anyone, despite the fact he could be as stoic and cold as any of them when the urge took him.

He is one of the few exceptions. It is very rare to live so long and hang on to humanity.

I glanced at him.
Does that apply to reapers as well?

Reapers are not human, so we can hardly hang on to what we do not have.

But you are capable of emotions.

Again a smile touched his thoughts, and it shimmered through me like a warm summer breeze.
Yes, we are, especially if we are foolish enough to remain in flesh too long.

In other words, I wasn’t to read too much into what he said or did while he wore flesh, because when all this was over, we’d both go our separate ways and life would return to normal.

I wanted that; I really did.

But at the same time, it was becoming harder and harder to imagine life without Azriel in it.

He made no comment on that particular thought and I returned my attention to Hunter. “Once I’ve checked out the crime scene, what then? Are you going to tell me more about him or am I expected to work on this case completely blind?”

“Impressions first,” she said, and hung up.

“Fuck you and the broom you rode in on,” I muttered, then leaned back in my chair. “Well, this totally sucks.”

“An unfortunate consequence of agreeing to work with someone like Hunter is being at her beck and call.” He spun my chair around, then squatted in front of me and took my hands in his. His fingers were warm against mine, his touch comforting. “But there is little we can do until your mother’s killer is caught.”

I snorted softly. “Even if we
do
find her killer, do you really think she’s going to let me go?”

“We both know the answer to that. But once the killer is caught, we will be in a better position to deny her.”

“Maybe.” And maybe not. After all, Hunter wouldn’t have any qualms about threatening the lives of my friends if it meant securing long-term obedience.

“It does not pay to worry about things that may never happen.”

“No.” I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his as I closed my eyes. “I guess we’d better get moving. I want to be out of that house before the Directorate gets there.”

“Do you wish me to transport us there?”

His breath washed across my lips and left them tingling. Half of me wanted to kiss him, and the other half just wanted him to wrap his arms around me and hold me as if he never intended to let go. Unfortunately, neither was particularly practical right now.

And it was a sad statement about my life when desire gave way to practicality.

“It’ll be faster if you do.” While I could shift into my Aedh form and travel there under my own steam, my energy levels were still low and I really didn’t want to push it. Not yet, not for something like this.

He rose, dragging me up with him, then wrapped his arms around me. “Wait.” I broke from his grasp and moved around the desk, striding out of my office and down to the storeroom at the other end of the hall. We kept all RYT’s—which was the name of the café I owned with two of my best friends, Ilianna and Tao—nonperishable items up here, which meant not only things like spare plates, cutlery, and serviettes, but also serving gloves. It was the last of those that I needed, simply because I didn’t want to leave fingerprints around Wolfgang’s house for the Directorate and Uncle Rhoan to find. I tore open a box, shoved a couple of the clear latex gloves into the back pocket of my jeans, then headed back into the office. I grabbed my cell phone from the desk, then let myself be wrapped in the warmth of Azriel’s arms again. “Okay, go for it.”

The words had barely left my mouth when his power surged through me, running along every muscle, every fiber, until my whole body sang to its tune. Until it felt like there was no me and no him, just the sum of us—energy beings with no flesh to hold us in place.

All too quickly my office was replaced by the gray fields. Once upon a time the fields had been little more than thick veils and shadows—a zone where things not sighted on the living plane gained substance. But the more time I spent in Azriel’s company, the more “real” the fields became. This time the ethereal, beautiful structures that filled this place somehow seemed more solid, and instead of the reapers being little more than wispy, luminous shapes, I could now pick out faces. They glowed with life and energy, reminding me of the drawings of angels so often seen in scriptures—beautiful, and yet somehow alien.

Then the fields were gone, and we regained substance. And though it involved no effort on my part, it still left my head spinning.

“You,” he said, his expression concerned, “are not recovering as quickly as you should.”

“It’s been a hard few weeks.” I stepped back to study the building in front of us, even though all I really wanted to do was remain in his arms. That, however, was not an option. Not now, and certainly not in the future. Not on any long-term, forever-type basis, anyway.

Which, if I was being at all honest with myself, totally sucked. But then, I had a very long history of falling for inappropriate men. Take my former Aedh lover, Lucian, for instance.

“Let’s not,” Azriel said, his voice grim as he touched my back, then lightly waved me forward.

Amusement teased my lips. “He’s out of my life, Azriel, and no longer a threat to whatever plans you—”

“It is not the threat to
me
I worry about,” he cut in, his voice irritated.

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, he can hardly threaten
me
, given he and everyone else wants the damn keys.”

“His need for the keys did not stop his attempt to strangle you.”

Well no, it hadn’t. But I suspected Lucian’s actions had been little more than a momentary lapse of control—one he would have snapped out of before he’d actually killed me. Although, to be honest, I hadn’t actually been so certain of that when his hands had been around my neck.

I opened the ornate metal gate and walked up the brick pathway toward the front door. Wolfgang’s house was one of the increasingly rare redbrick Edwardian houses that used to take pride of place in the leafy bayside suburb. The front garden was small but meticulously tended, as was the house itself. I pulled out the gloves as I walked toward the house and said, “Lucian is no longer our problem.”

“If you think that, you are a fool.”

And I wasn’t a fool. Not really. I just kept hoping that if I believed something hard enough, it might actually come true. I switched the discussion back to my health. It was far safer ground.

“You can’t expect me to recover instantly, Azriel. I’m flesh and blood, not—”

“You are half Aedh,” he cut in again. His voice was still testy. But then, he always did sound that way after a discussion about Lucian, whom he hated with a surprising amount of passion for someone who claimed it was only his flesh form that gave him emotions. “More so, given what Malin did to you.”

Malin was the woman in charge of the Raziq, my father’s former lover, and a woman scorned. My father had not only betrayed her trust by stealing the keys from under her nose, but had also refused to give her the child she’d wanted. Instead, for reasons known only to him, he’d gone to my mother and produced me.

“Meaning what?” My voice was perhaps sharper than it should have been. “You never
actually
explained what she did.”

And I certainly couldn’t remember—she’d made sure of that.

He hesitated, his expression giving little away. “No. And I have already said more than I should.”

Because of my father. Because whatever Malin did had somehow altered me—and not
just
by altering the device the Raziq had previously woven into the fabric of my heart, which had been designed to notify them when I was in my father’s presence.

My sigh was one of frustration, but I knew better than to argue with Azriel—at least when he had
that
face on. “It doesn’t alter the fact that a body—even one that is half energy—can run on empty for only so long.”