Darkness Rising

by Keri Arthur

  “The reaper has, and his link is far deeper than anything I have achieved. If you want to fear anything, fear that.”

  Before I could reply, before I could even digest the import of his words, he claimed my lips with a kiss that was as harsh as his lovemaking. From that moment on there was no more talking, only an intense and brutal sort of pleasure that swept me swiftly into rapture and then far beyond it.

  For sometime afterward, I could only lie there, replete, exhausted, and still furious. But eventually, I pulled free from him, climbed out of bed, and strode to the shower.

  “You’re angry,” he said, sounding oddly surprised. Like he hadn’t just seduced the hell out of me in an effort to get what he desired—information, if not consent.

  I flicked on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. After a second or two, he seemed to realize I had no intention of answering him, and sheets rustled as he climbed out of the bed.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said, long before he could. Not because of the anger, but because I knew that, once he did, I’d be putty in his hands again. I couldn’t resist him; or maybe I simply didn’t want to resist him. Either way, I simply wasn’t in the mood. I wanted to hang on to my anger just that little bit longer, even if it was stupid and unreasonable.

  He stopped in the doorway and crossed his arms, leaning a powerful shoulder against the door frame. “I don’t understand why you feel this way.”

  He didn’t understand, and Azriel didn’t understand. Two sides of the same coin, and both of them incapable of giving me what I truly wanted.

  And you knew this from the beginning, so what the hell is your problem? And what the hell do you want from the reaper?

  Honesty, I thought. That’s what I want. That’s what I’ve always wanted.

  I stepped under the water and raised my face to the needle-sharp spray, enjoying its sting against my skin. But I was also aware of the weight of Lucian’s gaze on me.

  After a while, I reached for the small bottle of shampoo and finally met his gaze. “I’m sick of people not telling me truth, Lucian. Everyone is playing their own game, and everyone is using me to do it, and yet no one is bothering to fill me in on all the details. And it’s pissing me off.”

  “I only have one endgame, that I can promise you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Revenge?”

  “Yes.” His expression hadn’t changed, but suddenly there was something very dark about him—something deep and dangerous and alien. This was the man I knew, and yet it wasn’t, because this version was consumed by a hatred so deep it was breathtaking. He will do anything, absolutely anything, to get his revenge. And that knowledge chilled me even more than the alien darkness. “And I cannot see why you would not put that need to good use. If they attack en masse, you will need my help. And if they don’t, then you have lost nothing.”

  It made sense, yet still I hesitated to agree and I wasn’t sure why. My gaze searched his, looking for lies and finding nothing but honesty. But that didn’t mean a whole lot given he’d been bound to earth for many centuries. I was betting he could lie so well that even someone with the most sensitive of bullshit detectors wouldn’t know it.

  But what if he wasn’t lying? What if he was actually telling the truth? We probably would need help retrieving the keys, and the only other person I could really call on who would be of any use against the Raziq was Uncle Quinn. And I wouldn’t do that to Riley—even if she’d be madder than hell if she ever found out that I hadn’t asked him.

  I sighed, more than a little frustrated by the twisting of my thoughts, and said, “Even you and Azriel might not be enough if they attack en masse.”

  “The reaper has his sword. I have weapons of my own. Trust me when I say we will hold them off long enough to get you and the keys to a safe place.”

  I finished washing my hair, then met his gaze again and said, “And how are you going to do that when all you want to do is kill the bastards?”

  He grinned, and it was a ugly thing to behold. “Because merely killing them outright is not good enough. I want them to suffer as I have suffered. Finding these keys and having all their plans turn to dust is but one means of ensuring that.”

  I believed him. It was impossible not to. “Okay,” I said slowly. “When we go look for the keys, you’re in. But not before.”

  He frowned. “Will you not need help when you go read the book?”

  “No.”

  He studied me for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t think that’s wise, but this is your game, not mine.”

  His words had a trepidation stirring, and I couldn’t help wondering if I’d made my situation better, or much, much worse.

  Chapter Eleven

  THE CAFÉ WAS PACKED WHEN I ARRIVED, AND several staff members had called in sick, so both Ilianna and Tao were in as replacements and working the floor. Which, in Tao’s case, was a rare event that pleased his many fans—some of whom were young, many of whom weren’t, but all of whom were female. Given most of them were wolves who were not afraid of grabbing what they wanted, Tao ended the shift with a sore butt and more phone numbers than even he could handle in a year. But he wasn’t the only one who’d scored—although in my case, it was offers of drinks rather than actual dates. Obviously, I’d looked as if I’d needed to drown my sorrows, even though I’d tried to be my usual cheerful self.

  As the evening shift swept in and took control of the madness, the three of us retreated upstairs, beers in hand. I didn’t drink often—except when Ronan was around—but sometimes, when things got really insane, there was nothing more refreshing than a crisp, cool beer.

  And insane was certainly an apt description of my life at the moment.

  “So,” Tao said, as he rolled the chilled bottle across his forehead. “Ilianna tells me you’ve found a way to read the book without alerting the Raziq. When you attempt it, I want to be there to help.”

  I opened my mouth to say no, then shut it again and took a drink instead. I’d known Tao long enough to realize he wouldn’t be dissuaded. And the truth was, with both Azriel and Lucian barred from entering the sacred site, we might just need him. Ilianna wasn’t a member of any coven, let alone the one that owned that ancient site, so there was no telling how the forest was going to react once she raised her magic in its midst.

  And while she might be a powerful witch in her own right, she couldn’t help me and protect herself at the same time.

  “You’ll need to wear every magical charm Ilianna can lay her hands on if you do,” I said, meeting his gaze evenly. “The place we’re going is almost sentient. There’s no telling what will happen once Ilianna creates the void.”

  He nodded, looking pleased and somewhat bemused. “I was actually prepared for a rather long and drawn-out argument. I think I’m almost disappointed.”

  I chuckled softly. “I’m not stupid, no matter what some people think. And I rather like the thought of having someone at my back whom I can completely trust.”

  Tao opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Azriel said from behind me, “I gather by the rather ill-disguised sarcasm in your voice that that particular sentence is aimed at me?”

  “At you, at Lucian, and at everyone else looking for these keys,” I retorted, not bothering to swing around and look at him. I didn’t need to—not when I could taste his rising anger in the air around me. “I just want you all out of my life. I’m sick of the lies and the endless threat of danger. I want everything to go back to normal.”

  “Then we had best get moving and find these keys,” Azriel said, his voice still cool and collected, even if the air still boiled with his emotions.

  “Which all sounds well and good,” Ilianna said as her gaze swept between me and Azriel, “but this spell must be done at the break of dawn. And that’s quite a few hours away.”

  “By the time we gather everything you need and drive to the site, it won’t be.” I hesitated, then added, “You’ll need your four-wheel drive rather tha
n Tao’s Ferrari. This spot is a bitch to get to.”

  She nodded, then swigged the last of her beer and rose. “I left everything at Mirri’s, but it won’t take me long to get there and back.”

  My gaze flicked to Tao, and he said instantly, “Feel like some company? I might be tempted to help out in the kitchen if I hang about here too long, and that would annoy Jacques.”

  Jacques was the sous-chef we’d recently employed, and while he was a damn fine chef, to say he was somewhat temperamental would be an understatement. He respected Tao as the boss and co-owner, but when it came to his shift, he was in charge and interference was not appreciated.

  Ilianna smiled and patted his cheek. “You lie so prettily. No wonder the girls all love you.”

  “The Raziq have already had one go at snatching you,” he said evenly. “I might not have a magic sword, but I can arrange a good old-fashioned barbecue if any of them turns up.”

  “Given how they’ve turned our lives upside down, I might enjoy seeing that.” She gathered her jacket from a nearby chair, then looked at me. “Play nicely until we get back, children.”

  I snorted softly. I had no intention of playing with anyone right now, let alone a reaper who seemed to be gathering too many human traits.

  As Tao and Ilianna trooped down the stairs, I rose and walked across to the fridge, getting myself another bottle of beer before walking across to the windows. Outside, Lygon Street was alive with laughter, life, and music. I closed my eyes for a moment, losing myself in the sound and briefly imagining that everything was normal, that this was all some crazy dream.

  But it wasn’t, and no amount of wishing was going to make it so. Part of me wondered if things would ever be normal again, even after this whole mess was resolved.

  I opened the beer, took a drink, then said, “Lucian tells me that the Raziq will know our location the minute I touch the keys.”

  “That is more than possible,” Azriel agreed.

  “So why did he have to tell me that? Why couldn’t you?”

  “Would it have made the situation any easier?”

  No, but that wasn’t the point. “He also suggested that you’re unlikely to get help from other Mijai. He said you guys are rather thin on the ground at the moment.”

  “That is also true.”

  I turned around and faced him. He was still standing on the far side of the room, his stance casual and his hands clasped behind his back. But there was nothing casual about the feel of the air that boiled around him, or the fierce light that burned in his different-colored blue eyes.

  “So just how did you intend to protect me when I retrieved the keys?”

  “With all that I have. With my life, if need be.”

  “And a fat lot of good that’ll do,” I retorted, “if you die and I’m stuck trying to undo this mess by myself.”

  He raised an eyebrow and said, rather cuttingly, “There is still the Aedh.”

  “He’s not you. He could never be you.” The words were out before I could even think about them, and sort of hung in the air between us.

  And it hit me then that, as frustrating as this reaper could be—and as much as I wanted the whole situation to be finished and my life back to normal—I’d actually miss him when it happened.

  I liked Azriel. More than I should. Certainly more than was sensible.

  I swung away from him and took a long drink of beer. I was insane. This whole mess had driven me insane.

  Azriel was undoubtedly following my thoughts, but for once he didn’t comment. Maybe he thought silence was the better part of valor.

  “Lucian’s offered to help us when we go find the keys,” I said eventually. “I’ve accepted.”

  “I do not think that is wise—”

  “We don’t have much choice,” I cut in. “I don’t want you to die, and there are few others we can call on for help. Lucian is an Aedh, even if he has been damaged. He knows how to fight them, and he’s eager for revenge as well.”

  “Do you trust him? Do you honestly think he is telling the truth about what he’s truly after?”

  “He is after revenge. I’m certain of that, if nothing else.”

  “That doesn’t entirely answer the question.”

  No. But it was the only answer I could honestly give.

  “Then I guess I have no choice but to trust your judgment.” He hesitated, then added softly, “And another warrior would make things easier.”

  I smiled, recognizing an olive branch when I saw it. How long that offer of peace lasted was another matter entirely. “I’m able to fight, but I don’t think any of my weapons will actually work against the Aedh, especially if they don’t take human form in the attack.”

  “Which is why I bought you Amaya.”

  “And what the hell is an Amaya?” I said.

  “This,” he said, drawing a sword from the sheath at his back, “is Amaya.”

  The sword was shorter than Valdis, and much finer. Its steel was an inky black, and in the shadowed confines of the room it seemed little more than a threatening shadow. Yet with every movement, energy dripped from her like lilac rain—a rain that matched the color of my eyes and the Dušan on my arm. I doubted it was a coincidence.

  “It isn’t,” he agreed. “I am attuned deeply enough to you now that I was able to uncover a weapon that would accept you as her master.”

  “Accept me?” I said, studying the sword a little warily. Did I really want a weapon that had a life and a mind of its own?

  “Amaya, like Valdis, was forged during the death of a demon.” He stopped several feet away from me. The sword’s energy rolled across my skin—a dark and dangerous caress that had goose bumps rising. My gaze met his. His expression was neutral and—for some reason—that scared me. “It breathes life into the steel, and gives it the power to destroy the dark ones. They do not submit to a master easily, but once accepted they will serve you well.”

  “What’s the catch?” Because there had to be one. The seriousness of his expression told me that, if nothing else.

  “You must offer them blood.”

  “Naturally,” I muttered sarcastically, but with more than a trace of fear. “It couldn’t be something easy, could it?”

  No smile touched his lips, and his bright eyes remained as ungiving as his expression. Fear sharpened, sweeping through me, making me tremble like a leaf in a storm. “Just how much blood are we talking about?”

  “You must bury the sword in your flesh. She must become a part of you to serve you fully.”

  Oh, fuck. I gulped down my beer, but it did little to ease the dryness in my throat. I thumped it down on a nearby table and crossed my arms. “You know, I really don’t think I’m that desperate for a weapon.”

  “If the Raziq attack, and if the Aedh and I fall, then all you will have is your wits and your strength. Against the Raziq, that will not be enough.”

  As had already been proven when they’d kidnapped and tortured me. I swallowed heavily, my gaze sinking to the sword held so lightly in his hand. It still dripped lilac rain, and I had an odd sense it was waiting.

  I licked my lips. “I have the Dušan. If I fled to the gray fields—”

  “If the Raziq attack en masse, even the Dušan will not be enough.”

  If the Raziq attacked en masse and both he and Lucian were killed, I seriously doubted if even a demon sword would make a difference.

  “Do not doubt her capabilities,” he said softly. “Swords forged in demon fire are stronger—and more dangerous—than you could ever imagine.”

  And it would only work if I plunged it into my flesh. I rubbed my arms and said, “How can you know for certain that Amaya will accept me?”

  “As I said, I am attuned to you enough to sense her willingness. All you have to do is make the sacrifice.”

  “But won’t burying a sword in my flesh kill me?”

  “She will heal you as a gift for your sacrifice. From that point, she will be yours until your life’s en
d.”

  Oh great, I was going to have a fire-dripping sword constantly strapped to my back. And wouldn’t that please the customers?

  A small smile broke the seriousness of his expression, and it felt like sunshine breaking through a storm—warm and welcome. “Amaya belongs to the shadows. You can see her, and I can see her because of our connection, but no one else will. Nor will anyone feel her—not unless you bury her in their flesh. And you do not have to wear her all the time. She can be put aside when you sleep.” He hesitated, then added, “Or when you have sex.”

  “I’m sure my partners will appreciate that,” I muttered. I ran a somewhat shaky hand through my hair. I could do this. I had to do this. “Okay, so what do I need to do?”

  He raised the sword, offering it to me hilt first. “Take her.”

  I wrapped my hands around the night-dark hilt. Fire flared along the blade’s edge, thick and dangerous. The hilt itself felt warm against my palm, and something within it pulsed, as if it had a life and a heart of its own.

  And given it was forged during a demon’s death, maybe it did.

  I licked my lips, then raised my gaze to Azriel’s. “Now what?”

  “Place the tip against your stomach.”

  I closed my eyes against the rush of fear and did as he asked. The metal hummed—a sound that vibrated through every nerve ending.

  “Now we perform the bonding ritual. Repeat after me; we are one mind, me and thee.”

  I repeated the words softly. Energy stirred, caressing my skin and making the small hairs at the back of my neck rise.

  “We are one spirit, me and thee.”

  The power in the air increased as I repeated the words, crackling like lightning through the darkness, until it felt as if I were standing in the eye of a storm.

  “We are one body, me and thee, spirit within flesh, bound together until life is over and the soul has moved on.”

  I repeated the sentence. The words seemed to hang in the air, electric and alive. The sword burned against my palms, throbbing with life and hunger.

  “Now,” Azriel said softly, “make the sacrifice.”