Darkness Hunts

Chapter 13

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For too many minutes I couldn’t speak. All I could think was, He can’t be dead. Please, God, don’t let him be dead.

“What the hell have you done to him?” It came out a hoarse whisper, because my throat was locked tight with fear.

“Nothing that will kill him just yet.”

I closed my eyes in relief, but it didn’t last long. Not when the madman at the other end of the phone had Rhoan’s life in his hands—and no doubt wanted mine.

“How did you even know—” I stopped, suddenly realizing the answer to my question before I’d asked it. “The cameras at the warehouse. You deliberately revealed yourselves so that we could find you.”

“Yes,” he said. “I had worried that the Directorate might catch on to our little trap, but, as usual, I overestimated them.”

Because no one in his right mind would expect a suspect to deliberately parade about in front of security cameras. But then, Taylor and sanity weren’t exactly chummy.

“Rhoan isn’t the one you were hunting, so why are you even bothering to keep him captive?” My voice shook as I spoke, and I took a slow, deep breath in an attempt to remain calm. Clearheaded thinking was what this situation needed, not panic, not fear—even if there was plenty of both.

“He and I were playing this game before you came onto the scene, and would no doubt have arrived at this situation sooner or later.” He paused, and I could almost feel the satisfaction oozing from his pores, even though the screen was blank and he was nowhere near me. “As to why he is still alive, that’s simple. I believe he might be a much better lure to capture you than anything else I could have come up with.”

He had that right. God, if anything happened to Rhoan, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself—let alone face Aunt Riley. He might be a guardian, and this might not be my fault but rather a danger Rhoan willingly faced every day, but that still didn’t alter one fact. I was involved, and I’d bear the brunt of guilt if he was hurt. Or worse, killed.

Oh please, don’t let it be worse.

I took another deep breath that did nothing to ease the queasiness threatening to overwhelm me, then said, “So what do you want?”

“Why, dear huntress, you, of course.”

I closed my eyes. Even though I’d expected the answer, the thought of willingly walking into this man’s trap horrified me. “Why? I’m not one of your so-called aberrations you’re destined to destroy. Why hunt me, when your calling gives you so many other options?”

“Good question.” There was an edge in his voice that spoke of amusement. This bastard was sick. Sick, sick, sick . . . I thrust the mental chant away. That way lies madness. He continued. “The simple answer is boredom. That is why I originally started playing my game with the Directorate. In a life as long as mine, a challenge is sometimes needed.”

“You’re killing these women because you’re bored?”< />?e satisfacp>

He sighed. “Huntress, that is not what I said. I kill the women because that is my calling. I taunt the Directorate because it is fun.”

He was definitely a fruitcake. He had to be, because taunting the Directorate was stupid and dangerous.

“So where do I come into the picture?” I knew where well enough. I’d defied him on the fields, threatened him, marked him. For someone who obviously considered himself beyond the Directorate’s reach, that had to be galling.

“You intrigued me, huntress. You, and the one who guards you both. I have not come across your likes before.”

A chill ran through me. How the hell could he know about Azriel? “I’m not sure what you mean—”

He tsked. “Come, huntress, let’s not play this particular game.”

I swallowed heavily. If he knew about Azriel, then he probably also knew how to stop him. My reaper might not be of this place, but he could be blocked and killed here. That might be in this madman’s plan. After all, what bigger buzz could there be for someone as sick as Taylor than killing a celestial guide?

God, this situation was getting worse and worse.

“How do you know about him? Few can see him.”

“He did do a good job of concealing himself, but the astral plane is my world, not his, and there are few there who can hide themselves from me.”

Markel. He was talking about Markel, not Azriel. Thank god.

“What does it matter who I have following me around? This is between you and me.”

“Oh, the end battle will be, for sure, but that does not dampen my wish to see just what your guardian can do.”

Markel couldn’t do half of what Azriel could, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. Not that Markel would actually be getting involved—not unless it was absolutely necessary. Especially when Azriel could project any human form he desired.

“So,” I said in a flat voice, “you wish to challenge us. How do you plan to do that this time?”

“Oh, the game hasn’t changed; the stakes are just a little higher.”

The stakes being Rhoan’s life. I closed my eyes again and tried to control the rush of panic. I could do this. I had to do this.

“Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“This time it is easy. I give you an address; you and your guardian go to it.”

“And?” I asked, when he didn’t go on.

“Inside, you will find Rhoan Jenson. You will lie down beside him and take astral form. From that point on, you and I will begin a battle from which only one will return.”

It was too simple, too easy. For a man who claimed to love his games, there had to be mor/em.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’m shocked that you don’t trust me, huntress.”

I very much doubted it. “If that’s all you want me to do, why do you want my guardian along?”

“Well, there are one or two things I forgot to mention.” His voice was still jovial, but this time it held a darker edge that had horror crawling down my spine. “The first being the fact that your uncle has been injected with hemlock. So far, it has done little more than rob him of speech and movement. However, the suppression of movement will soon spread to his respiratory function, and death will result.”

Oh fuck, oh fuck. I gulped down air and tried to keep calm. But my heart was racing and there was sweat dribbling down my spine and all I wanted to do was run into the bathroom and throw up. Only sheer force of will—and fear of what might happen to Rhoan—kept me on the spot and on the phone. “That still doesn’t tell me why you want my guardian there.”

“Your guardian is there because you have a choice to make. He can keep your body safe, or he can save Rhoan Jenson. He will not be able to do both.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you wish your uncle to live, he has to be taken to hospital. But doing so will leave your physical form unprotected.”

Trepidation crawled across my skin, but I had no intention of worrying about what he’d planned in the event I was left unprotected. I wouldn’t be, as simple as that, even if it meant calling in not only Markel but the whole damn Directorate.

“And do not think to call in aid from the Directorate,” Taylor said, seemingly reading my thoughts. “Because the place you walk into has been wired with explosives. The minute my people see anything out of the ordinary, they will detonate. And that, dear huntress, would be an inglorious end for one such as you.”

And it sure as hell wasn’t the way I wanted to go, either. I shivered, feeling colder and more helpless than I ever had before.

He does not know about me, Azriel said, his words warm and comforting as they whispered into my mind, and he will not know I am there unless someone attempts to harm you.

But it means we have no choice but to involve Markel.

I do not think he will mind.

Maybe not, but his boss might. Hunter had put him on watch duty, and she was the sort to expect exact compliance with her orders.

But she does not want you harmed, unless she is the one doing the harming. She will allow this.

I guess. But it meant Markel was yet another person being drawn into the web slowly closing around me. And while he might be an elite killer for the high council, that didn’t mean I wanted his death on my conscience any more than I wanted Rhoan’s on ithoasiz.

“That isn’t really much of a test for my guardian, Taylor. It’s a choice for me, not him.”

“True. But you will not choose death, huntress, and we both know it. Therefore, your guardian will remain and he will be tested.”

And things would attack. Undoubtedly nasty things. While I had no doubt Azriel would cope, that didn’t make me feel any better. I rubbed my forehead wearily, then said, “How do I know you won’t explode the place when I win?”

“You don’t,” he said. “That’s all part of the game.”

Some fucking game. “What address do I have to go to?”

“Ah, so eager to begin. The address will be sent to you, huntress. And do not bother to trace the phone, because it will not be anywhere near my person by the time you find it.”

“Fine. See you shortly, then.”

“I look forward to it.”

He hung up. I did the same, then threw the phone at the nearest wall. It hit with a satisfying thud, then clattered to the floor. It didn’t make me feel any better.

“That,” Azriel said calmly, “probably wasn’t wise given that you need the phone to receive the address.”

“I know. But I doubt I did any real damage—the cover is thick enough to protect it.”

As if to prove my point, the damn phone rang. This time I didn’t recognize the tone, so it wasn’t a call from anyone in my contacts list.

I climbed to my feet and walked over to retrieve the stupid thing. “Risa Jones.”

“Risa, it’s Jack from the Directorate,” he said, voice brusque. “I’m afraid there’s been a—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “I just got a call from our favorite psycho.”

“Rhoan’s still alive?”

“For now. I’m just waiting for his location to be sent to me.”

“Good.” There was relief in his gravelly tones. “We need to get you here—”

“No,” I interrupted again. “He wants a showdown on the astral plane—just him and me. And if you or anyone else gets involved, he’s going to blow our bodies to kingdom come.”

“He won’t even fucking see us coming, let alone get the chance to blow you both up.”

“Bright is an IT specialist. They’ll be watching from a distance, and they’ll detonate the same way.”

Jack was silent for a moment, then said, “Fine. We’ll play it his way, at least for the moment. The minute you get a location, you contact me. We’ll start scanning the area for rogue frequencies and start blocking. Once we have the place locked down, we can storm his location and kill the bastard.” He paused. “You’ll be all right until then, won’t you?”

“Yes.” I had to be. There was ne. He o other choice except death, and I wasn’t going there willingly. “But I very much doubt Taylor is going to be in the same location as me and Rhoan. He’s not that stupid.”

“Oh, I know that. But I doubt he’ll be far away from either the location or his lieutenant. He’d want the pleasure of watching Rhoan burn after the fight he undoubtedly thinks he’ll win.”

And Taylor wasn’t the only one who thought that the odds were on his side. As another bout of foreboding shivered down my spine, the phone indicated an incoming text. “Hang on, Jack—I think he just contacted me.”

I switched screens. It was the address from Taylor. “Okay,” I said, switching back to Jack. “His address is Twenty Keeshan Court, Altona.”

“We’ll begin the scanning process immediately. Take your time getting there, because the more time we have, the better it will be for you.” He paused, then added, “And be careful.”

“I will be.” Whether it would be enough was another matter entirely. “What about Aunt Riley? Shouldn’t she be involved? Or at least informed?”

“Riley contacted me a few minutes ago. I’ve told her the situation is in hand.”

I snorted softly. “I can imagine what she said to that.”

“Yeah, she may be older, but she certainly hasn’t mellowed.” His tone was wry. “Avoid contact with her. I can’t stop her from searching for her brother, but we need to get this done before she finds him. There’s already been enough people hurt today. I do not want her on the list as well.”

God, I hadn’t even given a thought to the men and women who would have been with Rhoan in that house. “I hope there weren’t any deaths.”

“Two, I’m afraid. We didn’t get them to the hospital in time. It’s only thanks to the comlinks that we knew they were in trouble.”

The comlinks were small disks inserted into the earlobes of all guardians, and they worked in a similar fashion to the earrings I wore—only the comlinks had a “panic” button that sent out a distress signal when things went bad. “Have an ambulance waiting nearby. If I can get Rhoan out before I step onto the astral plane, I will.”

“Do not jeopardize your life to save his,” Jack warned. “Rhoan would not appreciate it.”

No, he wouldn’t, even though he’d do exactly the same for me. I hung up, only to have the phone ring yet again. I glanced at it, but the number was blocked. Trepidation surged anew, but I hit the ANSWER button and said, “Hello?”

“Risa, it’s Markel. I overheard your conversation with Taylor from the astral field and have returned to flesh. I will be able to meet you at the location Taylor gave you.”

“You’ve cleared it with Hunter?”

“Yes. Neither she nor the council currently has any desire to lose your services, so I am to do whatever needs to be done.”

Considering he was a Cazador and could basically do anything he liked em>e donto get the job done, that was a pretty chilling statement. “The only thing I need you to do is to get Rhoan out of there.”

“I’m sure that is not what Hunter—”

“In this case, I don’t care what Hunter wants.”

He hesitated, then said, in a distinctly cooler voice, “If that is your wish.”

“It is.”

“I shall be there in fifteen minutes.”

“See you then.”

I hung up a second time, then met Azriel’s steady gaze. “I have a really bad feeling about all this.”

He half raised a hand, but let it drop before he ever touched me. And at that particular moment, I almost hated him. I certainly hated the reasons he was distancing himself almost as much as I hated the madman I’d soon have to face. Right now, I didn’t want distance and I certainly didn’t care that those reasons made perfect sense. I just wanted the comfort of his arms wrapped around me, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the tease of his lips against my ear as he whispered everything was going to be all right.

Even if we both knew it was a lie.

Something flicked in his eyes, but he didn’t move or otherwise react. “You are not unprotected on the plane, Risa. You have Amaya, and she will do all she can to keep you safe. As I will.”

“I know. It’s just that—” I hesitated, and rubbed my arms. “He’s not sane, Azriel. He’ll do the unexpected.”

“Undoubtedly.” He hesitated, and a flash of frustration ran across his otherwise impassive expression. “I wish I could do more, Risa. I really do.”

My gaze searched his for a moment, and I suddenly realized he wasn’t talking about fighting, but rather the desire to comfort me as I longed to be comforted. I clenched my fists against the increasingly familiar urge to rant and scream in the face of the unfairness of it all. There was no point in saying anything, let alone ranting. We’d hashed this all out a hundred times and there was nothing more to be said unless he changed his mind. And I couldn’t see that happening anytime soon.

“You’d better remain invisible until we get the lay of the house,” I said, somehow keeping my voice even. “I don’t want Taylor setting off a damn bomb because he spots you.”

“He will not.”

I thrust a somewhat shaky hand through my hair, then said, “I guess I’d better take the car. I don’t think it would be wise to let Taylor know I’m something more than a werewolf.”

“I agree,” Azriel said. “And him not knowing might also give you the advantage—especially if you travel near the umbra.”

The umbra was the area where the real world and the gray fields merged, but I couldn’t see how that actually became an advantage.

“The Dušan,” he said. “She can take full form in the umbra.”

“Then all I have tn a>“o do is get the bastard there and let her loose.” But how did I do that? How would I even know when I was getting close to it?

“The plane works in much the same way as your atmosphere,” Azriel said. “The closer you get to the umbra, the thinner or more distant this reality will be.”

I frowned. “So all I have to do is imagine myself flying up toward it?”

“It is not that simple. Nor would Taylor allow it to be even if it was.”

“Then how the hell do I reach it?” Frustration, and perhaps more than a little panic, edged my voice. I didn’t want to do this, even if I would never be entirely alone on the astral plane.

“The plane is separated from the gray fields by a series of—” He hesitated. “Layers, I suppose they can be called. The umbra is the fourth and last of these layers. Most astral travelers are only able to access the first two. The very seasoned can access the third and see the umbra. Psychics such as your mother and yourself can access the umbra itself and interact with the beings there.”

I frowned. “But I thought you said most psychics only interacted with ghosts.”

“I did. Ghosts inhabit the umbra, which is why even those who astral travel are rarely aware of their presence.”

“So I was in the umbra when I met Taylor the first time?”

“No. You were in the umbra when you talked to Logan, but retreated to the base level when you went to rescue the woman.”

Ha. The things you learned. “So all I have to do is lure Taylor through the levels until we’re in the umbra?”

“Getting him there will be the problem. He will be wary of astral traveling too close to the umbra. Most seasoned travelers are.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Because while a soul generally cannot be killed on the astral plane, that rule doesn’t hold on the umbra portion.”

I digested that for a moment, then slowly said, “That’s what he plans. He said only one of us will be coming back from this battle.”

“Make sure it is you, Risa. I could not—”

He cut the rest of the sentence off, leaving me wondering just what he’d been about to admit. The part that hungered for his touch desperately wanted to believe it was something along the lines of not being able to live without me, but that was stupid, given that he had a totally different physiology. More likely, he was simply going to remind me that he couldn’t continue the quest without me.

Which he’d reminded me of often enough.

I waved a hand toward the front door. “We’d better get going.”

Because the sooner we got to that house and whatever delights Taylor had waiting, the sooner we could get on with the business of finding the next key.

But even as I made my way down to my car, a dark voice within was whispering, You’ll be finding nl bfont>

othing but the afterlife if you lose this battle. And you could lose it. Very easily.

And if I kept thinking along those lines, I’d be defeated long before I ever made it onto the astral plane.

It didn’t take all that long to get across to Altona, thanks to the fact that peak hour had pretty much passed. I parked under a streetlight at the top end of Keeshan Court—there was little point in hiding—then climbed out and studied my surroundings. It was a typical middle-Melbourne suburban street, filled with tidy-looking brick houses and neat front yards. The sort of street I could imagine kids playing in happily, never realizing there was a psycho in their midst.

I shivered, then reached back into my car and grabbed my coat.

“So, we meet in the flesh at last,” a deep voice behind me said.

I bit down a squeak and spun around. A tall man dressed in dark jeans and a black sweater stood in front of me. My gaze traveled up the long, lean length of him, and clashed with the darkness of his. Recognition stirred.

“Markel Sanchez,” I said, relief evident in my voice.

“Indeed.” He bowed slightly. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you on this plane.”

“I wish it was in better circumstances,” I muttered, and pulled on my jacket.

“Indeed.” His gaze moved from me to the street. “I have done a brief reconnoiter. Number twenty bristles with hardware, some of which is cameras.”

The rest no doubt being the bombs Taylor had mentioned, as well as other nasty stuff. “How many people are inside the house?”

“Only one. I presume it is the guardian, Rhoan Jenson.”

I hesitated, then asked, “Is he still alive?”

Markel’s dark gaze returned to mine. “At this moment, yes.”

I released the breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding. “What about the other houses in the court? Have you checked those?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course. I am the professional here, remember.”

Yeah, he was. But it was my life on the line, not his. “So did you find anything unusual?”

“No. Taylor and his accomplice are not in this street as far as I was able to discern. That does not mean he is not nearby.”

“He will be nearby.” Watching, waiting. Anticipating.

I shivered again, then shoved shaking hands into my pockets and began walking toward the house.

Markel fell in step beside me. “What of the reaper, Azriel? Is he here?”

“I am,” Azriel said, his voice coming from the opposite side of me to the vampire. Not that I needed to hear his voice to know exactly where he was.

Markel didn’t seem altogether surprised, either. Maybe he’d asked the question simplyueswhere h to confirm what he’d already sensed.

“Good.” He paused. “Do you really think this madman will allow us to rescue Jenson? I cannot see it myself.”

“I don’t think he’ll expect it, but I don’t think he’ll stop it, either. Either Rhoan dies or I’m left unprotected, so he wins either way.”

“But you are not unprotected.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

Markel nodded and continued to study the house we were all too quickly approaching. It was almost as if he were trying to read the mind of an enemy who wasn’t even present. His movements were fluid, easy, and there was absolutely no sense of danger emanating from him. It was oddly disturbing, but not entirely surprising. Cazadors might be the most efficient and deadly killers ever trained by the high council, but very few people knew they existed. And that, no doubt, was helped by the “wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly” feeling Markel was currently emitting.

Which, in my estimation, only made him—and them—more scary.

Except, I’d bet, to people like Hunter. I don’t think that woman feared anything, alive or dead.

“Jack’s got an ambulance standing by,” I said, my gut churning more and more the closer we got to the damn house. “It shouldn’t be hard to—”

“I am aware of the ambulance’s location,” he cut in. “I will deposit Jenson into their care and come back.”

“But Azriel—”

“Taylor is no fool.” Markel’s gaze met mine briefly. In the flare of the streetlights, red glinted deep in the dark depths. Not anger, not bloodlust, but something else. Something deeper—more remote and dangerous. I resisted the urge to step away from him as he added, “He undoubtedly has plans for your body once he thinks you are left unprotected. He will also have his people watching what is going on, and they will not react favorably when they realize you are not as unprotected as they thought.”

“I doubt they’ll react favorably to you coming back into the house, either.”

“That is a risk we must all take.” Thankfully, his gaze returned to the house. “I have my orders, Risa. I will obey them.”

Meaning it was pointless to argue. We reached the end of the court. Number twenty loomed in front of us, dark and silent. While the surrounding houses might be well cared for, it was obvious that this place had been left empty for a while. The grass in the front yard was long enough to brush my knees, and there were trees sprouting in the gutters. Metal shutters covered all the windows, making it impossible to steal a glimpse inside, but the front door stood slightly ajar.

It was an invitation to enter that I wished we could refuse.

I flared my nostrils, sucking in the air and sorting through the scents as Markel pressed his fingertips against the door and pushed it all the way open. The house smelled of age and damp, but underneath these ran teasing scents of humanity and wolf. The latter undoubtedly belonged to Rhoan, but did the other belong to Taylor or his assistant, or someone else?

There is no one other than Rhoan inside, Azriel commented. As Markel has already said.

But they’ve been here, and very recently. If the strength of that scent was anything to go by, at least.

Naturally. They had to set their trap.

A trap we were willingly walking into. I shivered again, and rubbed my arms as I forced myself to follow Markel inside. With the windows shuttered, the only light coming into the house was from the door behind us, and it did little to lift the deeper darkness of the hallway. Rhoan’s scent was coming from the room at the far end of the hall, but we approached cautiously, peering into each of the rooms we passed even though there was little enough to see. Markel and Azriel might be certain that no one else was here, but neither of them was taking any chances. For that, I could only be thankful.

Markel pushed the door at the far end of the hall open. The light that hit us was so fierce and bright that I had to blink back tears.

It revealed a room that was stark, white, and empty. Or rather, almost empty. Rhoan lay on the tiles in the middle of the room, his arms crossed across his chest and his face deathly white. Panic surged.

No, God no! I pushed past Markel, but he caught me before I got more than a step.

“Damn it,” I said, twisting violently against his grip in a desperate attempt to rip free and get to Rhoan. “Let me go!”

“Your haste will kill us all,” he said, and pointed at my legs.

Or rather, the trip wire that waited only inches away from my shins.

It felt like someone had tipped a bucket of ice water down my back. That one moment of panic reaction could have killed us all.

Think, I reminded myself fiercely. Don’t react blindly. That’s what he wants.

And while I doubted he’d actually want us dead just yet, I was betting he wouldn’t have minded having Markel, at least, incapacitated.

“Follow me—carefully,” Markel instructed.

He stepped over the trip wire and proceeded forward with caution. I did the same, practically stepping on his heels.

“Trigger plates,” he said a few seconds later, and pointed at the tiles directly ahead.

I peered around him. “How can you tell?” They looked exactly the same to me as all the other tiles.

“The edge is fractionally raised. The trap waits above.”

I glanced up. The trap was four rows of long, wickedly pointed metal stakes. They might not kill a vampire—only wooden stakes to the heart or decapitation could really do that—but they would still make a goddamn mess. “This is no seat-of-the-pants trap. He’s been planning this for some time.”

“From the moment you clashed on the astral plane, I would suggest.”

He stepped over the tiles, then offered me his hand. I accepted it gratefully. Four rows of tiles might not be much of a leap, but if I became unbalanced and fell backward into one, I’d be dead. Those stakes would kill me.

We continued moving forward carefully, but there were no more traps and we were soon by Rhoan’s side. Markel motioned me to remain where I was and knelt beside Rhoan. I flexed my fingers, fighting the urge to drop down, press my hands against his pale, still body, and feel the life within him even though I could clearly see he was breathing.

It seemed to take forever for Markel to pat Rhoan down, but eventually he glanced up and gave me a nod.

I dropped down beside Rhoan and touched a hand to his cheek. It was clammy and cold, and though he was definitely breathing, it was becoming labored. That could only mean the hemlock was beginning to fully kick in.

I glanced up. Markel regarded me steadily. It was oddly unnerving. “If we don’t get him to hospital soon, he’ll die.”

He must not die tonight, Azriel said. No reaper waits.

And that meant he’d be one of the lost ones if we couldn’t save him. I closed my eyes and fought the rush of panic. It wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t.

I reached across his body and gripped Markel’s arm. “Get him to that ambulance,” I said fiercely. “Make sure they know he’s been injected with hemlock. And be careful, because I wouldn’t put it past Taylor to have some sort of backup attack on the off chance I did decide to save Rhoan’s life rather than protect myself.”

Markel’s sudden smile was fierce. “Oh, he’s very welcome to try an attack. It would be a pleasant way to stretch the kinks from my body after the inactivity of following you via the astral plane.”

I found myself hoping Taylor wasn’t that stupid, if only because I didn’t want my uncle caught in the cross fire between Taylor and Markel.

He scooped Rhoan into his arms, then rose. “Tread carefully on the plane, Risa Jones. Hunter will not be pleased if your life was ended before her plans have come to fruition.”

“Like I really care,” I retorted, then saw the amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You have a warped sense of humor, vampire.”

“To remain sane in my profession, it pays to,” he commented, then headed out.

I watched him leave, and prayed like hell that Rhoan would be okay. Then I took a deep breath, gathered the fading strands of my courage, and lay down.

Three minutes later I entered the astral plane alone.