Darkness Rising

by Keri Arthur

  “Not necessarily. The case has gone into arbitration. And from what I’ve seen, his lawyers are handling it.”

  “But isn’t getting the two combatants to face each other across the table the whole point of arbitration?”

  “Yes, unless one of them has money and friends in high places, as is the case here, apparently.” He shrugged. “I’m keeping an electronic eye on the situation. If anything new comes up, I’ll let you know.”

  “Speaking of electronic eyes, did Tao ask you to do a sweep of our apartment?”

  He nodded. “I won’t get there until tomorrow, though. I’ve got several deals going down tonight.”

  I wondered if they were legit or black market, then decided I really didn’t want to know. “This nanowire you’re supposedly fitting—care to explain just what that involves?”

  “Ah,” he said, his expression becoming decidedly smug. “These things are real gems.”

  He walked over to a storage shelf on the far side of the room and picked up what looked to be a small plastic container. “This,” he said, holding it out so I could see, “is the very latest development in nano-technology. Not even the Directorate has these little beauties yet.”

  The little beauties in question were no bigger than a pin head and copper in color. “And they’re going to stop vampires from invading my mind?” I demanded. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that they don’t look powerful enough to stop an inquisitive gnat, let alone a vampire with any real telepathic ability.”

  He laughed softly. “Trust me, these work. I got them hot off the military supply chain.”

  “I do not want to know that,” I said. “Just install the things, then hit me with the price.”

  He did the latter first, and I just about fell off my chair. Still, we’d said price was no object, and if they actually worked, then it would be worth it.

  He handed me the container, then headed for the small kitchen tucked into the corner of the room. He retrieved a weird-looking syringe-type device from a drawer and then came back.

  “You keep syringes with your knives?” I asked, eyeing the massive thing dubiously. “I really don’t want to know where you’re going to insert that.”

  “Nowhere interesting, unfortunately,” he said wryly. “One microcell goes into your right heel, the other into your left ear.”

  “You are not shoving something that large into my ear!”

  “Don’t be a baby. Both Ilianna and Tao lived through it. You will, too.”

  “Well, I hope you’ve at least sterilized the needle,” I muttered, almost mutinously. I hated needles nearly as much as I hated spiders.

  “Of course. Now take your right shoe off and give me your foot.”

  I blew out a breath and did as he asked. He took a tube of cream out of his sweater pocket and rubbed some of it on my heel, then pulled on some gloves. After a minute, he hit a button on the syringe and plucked out one of the microcells; a second later the thing was in my heel. I didn’t even feel it.

  “See,” he said, grinning up at me. “All that worry for nothing.”

  “You haven’t gotten to my ear yet,” I grouched, more for the sake of it than anything else.

  He repeated the process on my ear, then said, “That’s it.”

  I put my shoe back on. “So how is it supposed to work?”

  He held up his hand and looked at his watch. After a couple of minutes, he dropped his hand. “Okay,” he said. “The microcells have now been warmed by your body and will have started doing their job. However, it’ll take twenty-four hours before they’re working at full capacity.”

  I frowned. “But how are they supposed to work when they’re not even connected?”

  I knew the basics of nanowires—like cells, they were powered by the heat of the body. But for the wires to be active, both ends had to be connected, so that a circuit was formed. They also gave off an extremely faint electronic tingle when in use, whereas these things didn’t.

  “Think of these as yin and yang—constantly interacting, yet never existing in absolute stasis.”

  I blinked. “That made a whole lot of sense.” Not.

  He grinned. “Okay, simpler terms. They are polar or contradictory forces that interact once put in a certain environment. In this case, the body. Once they are fully activated, the push–pull of their interaction provides a shield that is ten times stronger than any wire ever created.”

  “Whoa,” I said, stunned. While even that might not be enough to stop the likes of Hunter, it would stop the majority of vampires out there. And surely something that strong would at least hamper Hunter. “How can something so tiny be that strong?”

  “Science these days is amazing,” he said, sounding like a kid peering though a candy store window. “Trust me, you won’t believe some of the things both the military and private research labs are developing right now.”

  “Well, given your love of acquiring such objects, I daresay we’ll see them sooner rather than later.”

  “I’d love to agree, but I do have to be cautious. Or rather my sources do. We wouldn’t want to start any nasty investigations, would we?”

  “No, we wouldn’t.”

  “Too right,” he said, dumping the gloves and the syringe into a tray near his desk. They were promptly sucked away to God knew where.

  “Risa, it’s time to go,” a familiar voice behind me said.

  Both Stane and I jumped, and I turned. Azriel was standing behind me, arms crossed as he studied us both. He seemed amused, even if his expression was its usual blank slate.

  “Damn it,” Stane said. “For the sake of my nerves, let alone my heart, you really need to learn to knock or something.”

  “Wouldn’t a knock coming out of nowhere alarm you almost as much?”

  “Not nearly as much as hearing a voice come out of nowhere, then looking up to see a man-mountain,” Stane commented.

  Stane, like nearly everyone else, couldn’t see Azriel’s natural form. He saw the form most likely to give him comfort and make him feel safe. In this case, it was the image of a deceased relative. Interestingly, Tao saw the same image.

  Azriel shrugged. “I cannot alter the manner in which I appear. I am either here or I am not.”

  Which wasn’t exactly true, because he could be here and not be visible. He’d done that more than a few times.

  “How did your scouting trip go?” I asked.

  “There were six Razan in the tunnel. But there are now five, thanks to one taking a rather careless step into the street without looking first.”

  “And his soul?”

  “Guided down the dark path, as was his lot.”

  “By you?”

  He nodded. “Why do you seem surprised? I told you before that was my intention.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you meant actually guiding the soul as well. I mean, you’re a Mijai, not a reaper.”

  “I was a reaper long before I was a Mijai.”

  “So becoming a Mijai is a promotion?”

  His smile held a slightly bitter edge. “No, it is not. We are merely the warriors, the dark angels. Reapers are the soul guides, and that is truly an honored position.”

  “All reapers are guides, but not all reapers can become Mijai, so why would the former be more honored than the latter? Both do important tasks.”

  “Yes, but we are called dark angels for a reason. We really must go.”

  “Not without telling me the reason for the moniker.”

  “Later,” he said, and winked out of existence.

  I swore softly, then looked over at Stane. “I guess I have to go.”

  “Sounds like it,” he said, amused. “Good luck with getting that information. Personally, I think it’d be simpler getting blood from a stone.”

  “You could be right. And don’t forget to send me your account details so I can flash over the money.”

  He leaned sideways and pressed a couple of buttons. A second later my phone beep
ed. “Ta,” I said, and waved a sketchy good-bye.

  The containment field went down as I neared the door. I walked around to my Ducati and was relieved to see she was still in one piece. I pulled on the helmet, jumped on the bike, and headed home.

  Azriel appeared as I drove into our garage. “We really must be going,” he said, a slight edge of impatience in his voice. “It is nearly one.”

  “Fine, but I paid an absolute fortune for this bike when I was younger, and I do not want her damaged.”

  “You are rich, are you not? You could buy another.”

  “Yes, I’m rich, and yes, I could buy another, but that is not the point. I bought her with my own money, not with anything Mom had invested for me.” I stowed the helmet and pocketed the keys. “How do I follow you in Aedh form?”

  “You don’t.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. Before I could even register surprise, power surged, running through every muscle, every fiber, until my whole body sang with it. 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.

  Then the garage winked out of existence and we were on the gray fields. Only it wasn’t the gray fields that I saw—to me, they were usually little more than the real world covered by thick veils and shadows, where things not sighted on the living plane gained substance. But in Azriel’s arms, the fields were vast and beautiful, filled with airy, intricate structures and sun-bright pulses of life that teased the imagination.

  Then the fields were gone, replaced by darkness that smelled of earth, mold, and disuse. The old sewer tunnels the Aedh were apparently using for their lair.

  Azriel released me the minute we were solid. I stepped back, my body still humming from the energy he’d released—not to mention our closeness.

  “We are down the far end of the tunnels from where the Razan are,” he said softly. “They are apparently not using this section.”

  “So why are we here?” I asked, attempting to shake off the effects of his touch.

  “Is it not best to start at one end rather than the middle?”

  I guess it did make more sense. I swung around and studied the darkness behind us. “Have the Raziq all gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get this over with.”

  I walked forward, my footsteps soft yet echoing faintly in the darkness. I kept close to the damp brick wall, using its presence as a guide, because I sure as hell couldn’t see. It wasn’t long before we reached the first puddle of light and I paused, recognizing the small room to the left. It was where the Razan guards had been the night I’d escaped my prison. This time the TV was off, and the air was free of the scent of men.

  “Should we check it?” I said, pausing near the doorway.

  “Given that the book is hidden by veils, it would be wise.”

  “My father said I’d feel its presence. I don’t.” But then, I hadn’t “felt” it when it first arrived, either. Of course, that could have been because I’d been too busy trying to avoid the lilac-colored dragon that had exploded from it—a dragon that now decorated my left arm.

  I stepped inside and made a cursory circuit of the room, avoiding the take-out and drink containers that littered the floor. I didn’t feel anything more than the chill in the air.

  We continued on down the tunnel. After a while, more doors came into view, and as my gaze went to the first one, I shivered. This was the cell where I’d been kept. The cell where I’d been tortured.

  I reached for the door handle—my fingers shaking and my stomach flip-flopping—and opened it up. The room inside was small, dark, and yet familiar, even if the glass embedded into the concrete floor was barely visible and there was little sign of the energy field that had hampered my ability to shift into Aedh form. I stepped to the edge of the glass and wondered if the remnants of my jeans still lay in the middle of the circle.

  “Risa.” Azriel touched my elbow lightly, making me jump. “We cannot linger.”

  “Okay.” I couldn’t sense the book in the cell, anyway, so I closed the door and tried the other two, with the same result.

  The tunnel swept slowly around to the right and sounds began to invade the darkness. The slight drip of water, the murmur of conversation, the stir of heat through the air.

  I glanced at Azriel, and he held up three fingers. I guess I had to be grateful that he hadn’t indicated that all five were present, although that did raise the question of where the other two were.

  I walked on more cautiously, but no matter how much I tried to be quiet, my footsteps couldn’t help but echo in these shoes. I should have taken them off and walked barefoot, but given the Raziq’s penchant for laying glass into their floors …

  “What’s that?” a voice ahead said.

  I stopped, my fists clenched. After a moment, another man said, “We’re in a fucking disused tunnel. It’s probably the goddamn rats again.”

  “No, I heard something else. Something bigger.”

  “Well, go investigate then,” the other man retorted. “I’m not leaving the fire.”

  The other man swore, then said, “Frank, come with me.”

  Heavy footsteps echoed, then light suddenly swept the wall inches from where I stood. I pressed my back against the bricks and held my breath. The light jumped away and scanned the other wall before disappearing again.

  I blew out a breath, but the relief came too soon as the two men began walking toward us. The flashlight’s beam bobbled across the walls. I ducked, but not quickly enough, and the man swore again.

  “Just saw someone,” he said, and stopped. I couldn’t see either man, only the brightness of their flashlight, but I could smell them. They were human—although from what I understood, most Razan were. They just enjoyed an extraordinarily long life thanks to their Aedh masters.

  “Are you sure?” the other man said, his deep voice uncertain. “I sure as hell didn’t.”

  “It was just a quick movement on the edge of the light, but it was there.”

  “Then you yakking about it is a good way of letting them know we saw them.”

  Azriel touched my shoulder lightly; when I looked up, he motioned me to stay low. I nodded and he winked out of existence. A second later the sound of footsteps running up the tunnel—away from where I was hunkered down—echoed.

  “Shit, after him,” the first man said. The two of them disappeared after Azriel, leaving me with only the man in the room up ahead. And I couldn’t avoid dealing with him—not when I had to check the room he was in.

  I rose and crept forward. A warm flickering light began to infuse the darkness, and the air was decidedly warmer. I crept forward, listening intently but unable to hear anything beyond the soft murmur of conversation. TV, I decided, and wondered how the hell they got power down here, let alone reception. I pressed my back against the bricks and peered cautiously around the doorway.

  He was sitting in a tattered red armchair in front of a metal barrel that had been cut in half and now had a fire burning in it. The smoke rose and fanned out, hanging like a shroud from the ceiling—a good way to die if there was no cross-ventilation, and I couldn’t actually see any. Obviously, these Razan weren’t too bright.

  I reached for the Aedh, but a hand grabbed mine and it was all I could do to stop myself from screaming. But only because the wash of heat told me who it was.

  I glanced at Azriel, who shook his head. Do not, he said, his voice crystal clear inside my mind. Obviously, the microcells weren’t an impediment to him reading my thoughts. They are attuned to the Aedh and will sense it.

  Well, fuck. Why couldn’t something just be easy for a change?

  I flexed my fingers, then took off my shoes and left them near the doorway. I crept forward, the old brick flooring icy under my toes. The man stirred and reached for another piece of wood, tossing it into the barrel with a clunk. I froze. The flames flared and sparks bloomed upward, briefly illuminating the ceiling before the smoke closed
in again.

  He settled back down and, after a moment, I crept on.

  But somehow, he sensed me.

  In one swift movement, he rose and swung around, a gun rising in his left hand. I dove forward, grabbed the top of the chair for balance and twisted around in midair, aiming my feet at his midriff. He jumped back, firing the gun as he did so. My feet missed his belly, but his aim was better. The bullet skimmed my left leg before tearing a chunk of flesh from my thigh. Pain curled through me but I ignored it and let go of the chair, landing in a crouch, the gun following my movements. I threw myself sideways, realized too late just how close I was to the barrel, and hit it hard. As the barrel and I spilled to the floor, Azriel took shape behind the man and grabbed the weapon. I jerked away from the fire and pushed to my feet, only to see the man flying through the air and hitting the wall with enough force to break bones. He slid down to the floor and was still.

  I glanced across at Azriel, who calmly handed me the weapon. I slipped the safety into place, shoved it into the waistband of my jeans, then said, “You’re breaking the rules again, aren’t you?”

  “As I said,” he replied, his expression impassive, “my quest comes first. If that man had succeeded in killing you, it would have created serious problems. How is your leg?”

  I blinked at the sudden change of topic, and looked down. The bullet had torn a hole in my jeans, and blood was pulsing down my leg. Of course, the minute I became aware of it, the bloody thing began to throb like hell. I swore softly and wished—for the hundredth time in my life—that I could shift shape to heal myself. Unlike my side wound, this one wasn’t about to heal in an hour or two. I was stuck with trying to stem the flow of blood until that happened. I guess I just had to be thankful that these men were human rather than shifter or wolf. Otherwise, the damage might have been greater.

  I limped around the chair and over to the Razan. After checking his pulse, I stripped off his shirt, tore it into strips, then wrapped them tightly around my thigh. Not exactly hygienic, but better than nothing.

  “The guard will be out for about eight minutes,” Azriel said. “The others will be back before then. We must find the book quickly.”