Darkness Falls

by Keri Arthur

  “My own actions,” Tao echoed, and laughed. It was a short, sharp sound of bitterness. “Except it isn’t just my actions involved, is it?”

  “The elemental has no more desire to die than you,” Azriel commented. “It lives because the flame that gave it birth still burns in that sacred place. Perhaps it merely wishes to return in order to protect it.”

  “Meaning if I destroy the flame—”

  “It will kill you both.” My grip tightened on his arm again, forcing him to look at me. “Don’t you dare even consider that.”

  “Risa,” he said, voice soft. Desperate. “You expect too much of me.”

  “I expect nothing of you that I haven’t expected of myself,” I said, voice fierce. “Do you think these past few weeks have been easy for me? I’ve been to hell and back—literally—I’ve welcomed death, and I’ve been forced back to life. And I can tell you from experience that even though death may seem the better option, it isn’t. Life is worth the fight, however much it might seem otherwise at the time.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Tao,” I said. “Go back to the sacred site and talk with the elemental. It is within you, remember. Instead of trying to control it—or it you—maybe what you need to do is come to a resolution that suits you both.”

  Tao snorted. “It’s hard to talk to something when it has no understanding of the human language.”

  “Except that it has, through you,” Azriel commented. “It is no longer just an elemental, as you are no longer just a wolf. You may be two separate souls, but you now inhabit one body and share thoughts and memories. If you wish to communicate, you can.”

  Tao stared past me, and though the desperate light never really left his eyes, some of the tension did. He might still be afraid, but maybe—just maybe—we’d given him a reason to hope.

  “You really think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t think,” Azriel said. “I know.”

  Tao straightened just a little. The determined light in his eyes became stronger. “Then I should at least stop my whining and give it a try.” He gave me a somewhat wan smile. “Because if I give up and take the easy way out, I have no doubt that, being a Mijai in waiting and all, you’ll find a way to make my afterlife hell.”

  “Too damn right.” I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight for several seconds. When I finally stepped away, I added, “Do you want me to send a boatload of supplies up to the sacred site?”

  He scrubbed a hand across his jaw, the sound not unlike sandpaper across a wall. “Might be wise. There’s a ton of rabbits up there, but I have a feeling it might not be a good idea to hunt and kill anything within the walls of that place.”

  “Well, it was a witch sacred site.” Besides, spilling blood tended to raise darker magic, and given that wild magic was alive and well within the boundaries of the place, who knew what might happen.

  “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He touched a hand to my face, his fingers warm against my skin but no longer dangerously so. “I’ll see you soon.”

  It was more a question than a statement, and I smiled. “You will.”

  He glanced past me, nodded at Azriel, then turned and walked away. I crossed my arms and watched him leave.

  And wondered whether I’d ever see him again.

  “That,” Azriel said, “depends entirely on what now happens between him and the elemental.”

  “And whether we actually survive.”

  “That, too.” He stepped up behind me and rubbed my arms lightly. “You should go inside. You’re cold.”

  “Yes, I am.” But I didn’t move. Not until the very last traces of Tao’s scent had left the air, and all that was left was the gathering sense of the storm and the aroma of rotting rubbish.

  On my way through the kitchen, I grabbed some bread and a couple of thick slices of beef, munching on them as I made my way through the café. The news was being shown on one of the TVs, and the picture of a tall, thin man with dark auburn hair and muddy, empty eyes flashed onto the screen. I frowned, trying to remember where I’d seen him before.

  “He was one of the three vampires who was with Hunter at that blood-whore establishment,” Azriel said. “It was he who commanded you to stay in that room with the ghosts until the Rakshasa appeared.”

  The vampire with the silky-smooth voice, I thought with a frown. The councillor whose energy had felt dark and coiled. But why had he suddenly made a news report? I was under the impression those on the high vampire council preferred to fly under the radar. I stepped closer to listen to the report.

  The body of high councillor Angus Donvale was found in his home today, the newsreader said. Police indicated that while there was no sign of either a break-in or a struggle, Donvale’s body had been mutilated almost beyond recognition.

  The news went on, and it got worse. Two more murders, both prominent businessmen, both vampires. Both attacked with a ferocity that went beyond mere murder. The newsreader noted that the Directorate had been called in but at the moment had no comment. Nor were they discounting a possible link between all three murders.

  I had to wonder whether they would ever actually find that link, or if this case would simply become yet another in a long list of unsolved crimes.

  Because I had no doubt who was behind these murders. Had no doubt why.

  My stomach began to churn, and my sandwich suddenly lost its taste. My gaze met Azriel’s. His expression was grim.

  “It would seem,” he said, saying what I feared, too, “that Hunter has begun to exterminate all those who would oppose her.”

  Chapter 6

  I dumped the uneaten portion of my sandwich in a nearby bin, then tucked the plate behind the counter, out of the way. “Angus Donvale didn’t seem to be in opposition to Hunter the day we met him. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  “The fact that he apparently supported Hunter in her dealings with you does not mean he supported her overall,” Azriel noted. “The majority of vampires, from what I have witnessed during my time here on Earth, always seem to put their own interests first and foremost.”

  I snorted softly. “If they were putting their own interests first, they sure as hell wouldn’t be going up against Hunter in any way.”

  “Unless, of course, they thought the end reward was greater than the risk.”

  “Which I guess they did. And because of that, they’re dead.” As dead as we would be, if we weren’t very careful.

  “Except for the technicality that you can’t actually die this time around,” Azriel noted, pressing his fingers against my spine and gently guiding me toward the stairs. “You become a Mijai on your death, and that does have certain benefits in this particular case.”

  I raised my eyebrows as I began to climb the stairs. “How is becoming a dark angel a benefit in this case?”

  A smile lurked in the mismatched blue of his eyes, despite the seriousness of his expression. “It means you could come back and kill her. I’m sure Amaya would be willing enough to help out.”

  Be good to consume, Amaya agreed. Provide plenty of dark energy, that one.

  I snorted, though the sad truth was, Amaya probably could survive months—even years—without consuming the energy of anyone else. Hunter was a feast of all sorts of evil.

  “I thought the powers that be frowned on that sort of behavior,” I said, as I reached the landing and headed for the office and my desk.

  “They do,” he said. “But in this case, I think it would be worth it.”

  “You could be right,” I agreed. “The whole trouble is, I’d have to be dead first, and I’m seriously wanting to avoid that right now.”

  “A goal we are, for once, in complete accord about.” He stopped long enough beside me to brush a kiss across my lips, then moved on to his usual post near the window.

  I booted up the computer, then Googled the latest news reports, but they didn’t really reveal much more than the names of the other two murdered men.

&n
bsp; I scrubbed a hand across my eyes and leaned back in the chair. “These murders have to be the reason why she’s given us twenty-four hours to find the second key. She’s decided to move up her domination schedule.”

  “It would appear so.” Though he stood several feet away from me, the warmth of his presence chased away the chills. “The question is, why?”

  “Who fucking knows!” I waved a hand in irritation. “It’s not as if the mad bitch actually needs a reason.”

  “True, but it is nevertheless unusual, especially given her brother had no inkling that this was her plan.”

  I spun around to face him. “You read Jack’s mind?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Why do you always seem so surprised, given you are well aware that I can touch the thoughts of any I choose?”

  “It’s just that Jack is one of the strongest telepaths around, aside from Aunt Riley and Uncle Quinn.”

  “Even the strongest telepath cannot prevent a reaper’s access.”

  The thought made me frown. “Maybe that’s why she’s been contacting me via the phone these last few days—she wanted to keep you out of her thoughts and her plans a secret.”

  “That is entirely possible.” He shrugged. “It is, however, not a concern right now. Nor is the murder of those three men. The key has to be our priority.”

  “Except that we haven’t got a fucking clue about that right now, either.” I swung around again, and for the first time noticed the small white envelope sitting in the middle of the desk. I stared at it for several seconds, that sick feeling in my stomach growing.

  Because I’d seen such envelopes on several occasions now, and recognized the handwriting. It was from Markel.

  I took a deep, somewhat quivery breath, then slowly picked it up it. After sliding my nail under the edge of the flap to open it, I pulled out the crisp white paper. The message was short and to the point:

  Meet me where we first met. It is a matter of urgency.

  I stared at it for several minutes longer, then screwed it up into a tight ball and tossed it into the bin. “What the fuck am I going to do now?”

  “You have two choices—either you go, or you don’t,” Azriel said.

  I swung around to face him again. “You have no thoughts on the matter?”

  He half smiled. “Oh, I have plenty of thoughts. Whether you will take any notice of them is an entirely different question.”

  “Azriel, I wouldn’t ask for your opinion if I didn’t want it.”

  “Which is no indication that you will actually act on such advice.” There was amusement in his voice, but it faded quickly. His mental tones were somber as he added, I believe that both your uncle’s and Jack’s advice was sound. It is not wise to get involved with those who would use you to oppose Hunter.

  But in many respects, I am already involved. I’m on a collision course with Hunter—you know that; she knows that. And I’ve got a bad feeling that you and I may not be enough to cope with the bitch. She’s had a long time to plan her accession, Azriel, and time enough to learn how to cope with a reaper.

  Which is why I suggest you do go talk to Markel.

  Surprise rippled through me. Now, that was an answer I wasn’t expecting.

  And yet it is the only sensible option right now. Markel will surely be aware of her movements, and that, at the very least, might give us some clue as to what she plans next. He paused, his blue eyes narrowing slightly. Just talk. Nothing more. No promises or agreement.

  Don’t worry, I said grimly. I’ve learned my lesson about jumping into agreements before thinking about the long-term consequences.

  Then perhaps your agreement with Hunter did have some benefit. A touch of amusement swam down the mental lines. Where would you prefer to astral travel from?

  Where I’d prefer was my bedroom, but that had been blown to smithereens, perhaps never to be resurrected. I waved a hand to the sofa. “I can get comfortable enough there.”

  “Then do so. I will guard.”

  I moved across to the sofa and lay down, getting as comfortable as was possible stretched out on a two-seat sofa. Once I was settled, I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, slowing it down, drawing it deep. As my pulse rate dropped, a sense of peace enveloped me and all the tension that rode my body began to slip away. Then, as I’d been taught, I pictured a rope hanging above my head and reached up with imaginary hands to grasp it. It felt thick and real against those fingers, and steel strong as I pulled myself upward along it. Dizziness briefly swept over me, seeming to come from the center of my chest. I ignored it and kept pulling myself up that rope. A pressure began to grow inside me, getting ever stronger, until my whole body began to vibrate under its force. Then, suddenly, I was free and floating above my prone form.

  I didn’t hang about, simply imagined myself standing in front of the gigantic shed that was the Central Pier function center in Melbourne’s Docklands district—the place where I’d not only first met Markel, but interviewed the ghost of Frank Logan. In an instant I was there.

  And so was Markel. He was tall, with regal features and a body that was as lean as a whip. He bowed rather formally when my gaze met his, and while his expression gave little away, his brown eyes showed a touch of relief.

  But it was the man who stood beside him who caught my attention. It was Harry Stanford, Hunter’s archrival and the man who planned to use me to destroy her. He was also tall, with dark hair and skin, and incandescent green eyes that glowed with an unearthly fire here on the astral plane. He’d once been a Cazador, and that, in my estimation, made him the more dangerous of the two, if only because so few of them actually came out sane and whole on the other side. At least according to Uncle Quinn, anyway, and he should know given he was one of those few.

  I’d like to say it’s a pleasure to see you both here, I said, unable to hide the edge in my mental tones, but that would be a lie.

  Believe me, Markel said, his voice cool, without inflection but oddly pleasant, this is not something I desire, either. Hunter suspects my part in Krogan’s death and watches my every move.

  Guilt swirled through me at the mention of his name, and it was a heaviness I doubted I’d ever be free of. I might have killed him to protect those I loved, but that didn’t make his death any easier to bear. And it certainly didn’t make it right.

  Given you didn’t actually kill him, I replied, you hardly need to fear her wrath.

  No, but I did get rid of his body. I also failed to report your actions to her. Either of those two events would normally bring down her wrath. Together, they mean death.

  I frowned. Surely Hunter is not so sure of her position that she would start killing off Cazadors?

  Have you not seen the news reports? Stanford’s deep voice held an edge that spoke of frustration and anger. He was a man standing on the precipice of doom, and he was all too aware of it. Hunter begins her battle for supremacy, only she does it via stealth and murder rather than openly.

  Besides, Markel added, why would you think Cazadors are any safer than high councillors?

  I don’t. Hell, I didn’t even consider myself safe. Hunter was just as likely to turn around and kill me the moment she got anywhere near the key—especially if she’d figured out a way to nullify Azriel’s presence. But if you’ve called me here in the hope that Hunter’s recent action would force me to your side, then you’re out of luck. The only side I’m on right now is my own.

  Your side, Stanford said, the edge stronger this time, is a losing one. You cannot defeat her alone, Risa. It will be the end of not only yourself, but all you hold dear.

  But I’m not alone. Even as I said that, my stomach tightened and the bitter taste of bile rose in my throat. It was fear of what was coming, and fear that he was right. That in the end, I would be alone. That for me, there was no other choice. Not when it came to Hunter. Even so, I couldn’t help adding, I have Azriel, and I have my sword. Neither should be taken lightly.

  Though I wasn’t
entirely sure whom I was trying to convince—them or me.

  No, they shouldn’t, Markel agreed, his mental tones still very controlled. Maybe he didn’t have as much to lose as Stanford. Or maybe he’d simply accepted that death was a likely outcome no matter what path he took. But Hunter is a maenad and has the force of a god behind her. It gives her power beyond anything on this earth.

  Azriel isn’t of this earth, I reminded them. But the bitter taste of bile was growing. I half wondered whether it was possible to throw up on the astral plane—and what would happen if I did. Because as much as I wanted to ignore what they were saying, as much as I knew they were only trying to get me to aid them, I also knew their words held an undeniable weight of truth.

  Reapers can die. Demon swords can be nullified, Stanford said. It is only a matter of know-how.

  Nullify them, Amaya said. Chance give.

  No, I said to her, amused despite the growing sense of dread. They’re friends—of sorts. You don’t nullify friends.

  She muttered something I didn’t quite catch, although it wasn’t hard to guess it was something along the lines of her being willing to make an exception.

  I studied Stanford for a moment, seeing the tension in the small lines near his eyes, feeling it in the unpleasant vibration that ran through the ether around us. If Hunter is all-powerful, how do you plan to uphold your end of the deal and give me the means to negate her connection to her god?

  I am not the oldest vampire currently living, but I am old enough to remember a time when the gods—and maenads—were more prevalent than they are today, Stanford said. And I am not the only one. More important, those others also remember how to counter them.

  Then I’m surprised Hunter hasn’t tracked them all down and killed them. If Stanford knew of their existence, Hunter surely did as well.

  She can’t, because they already are dead, Stanford said. But, as you are no doubt aware, not all souls move on. Some stay because they have no choice, but others remain because they know their task on this earth has not yet finished.

  I raised an eyebrow. Meaning your source is a ghost who’s hanging about waiting for the chance to off Hunter?