Darkness Rising: The Dark Angel Series: Book Two (37 page)

Riley nodded. “It’s definitely blood magic from the feel of it, but it’s more powerful than anything I ever felt before. And older.”

Rhoan’s gray eyes glimmered silver with the force of his anger as his gaze slammed into mine. “Which means you
really
need to keep your fucking nose clear—”

“Rhoan,” Riley said softly. “Enough.”

He gave her a sharp look, then thrust a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I’m only trying to keep you safe, Ris.”

“I know, and I love you all for that, but my father has threatened to kill Ilianna and Tao if I don’t continue to hunt down the keys. I really have no other choice.”

“You may have no choice when it comes to the keys,” Quinn said, his voice filled with the most gorgeous Irish lilt, “but you can choose
not
to undertake this search with only a reaper by your side. However handy with a blade that reaper may be.”

My gaze flicked to Riley. She knew why I hadn’t asked them. I could see it in the slight twist in her smile. “I learned the hard way that I needed to rely on others, Ris. Don’t go through what I had to before you learn it, too.”

It was a lesson I didn’t need to learn. I was more than happy to lean on others for help—as long as it didn’t place them in the path of danger. And Riley, Quinn, Rhoan, and his lover Liander had been through enough already in their lives. They’d earned their right to peace. This was my fight, and my turn.

“Might as well talk to a brick wall,” Rhoan muttered. “She’s listening, but she won’t do it.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t—not when he was right.

“Send her home,” Riley said softly. “If you need anything else for your report, you can talk to her in the morning.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “But for God’s sake, be careful, Ris.”

“Uncle Rhoan, those creatures weren’t here to kill me. They were here to distract me. Whoever did this wants me alive.”

“For the moment.” He waved a hand. “Go. Just make sure you’re contactable in case I need anything else.”

I nodded and glanced at Azriel.
I need to go see Ilianna and Tao.

He nodded imperceptibly.
Shall I meet you at the ritual site’s gates?

I hesitated, knowing that I wasn’t up to much and yet very aware of the odd tension that still rode him.

Yes,
I said eventually, and he immediately winked out of existence.

My own departure was a little less hurried, the change sweeping over me even more sluggishly. I was pushing my limits, and sooner or later the well would run dry and there’d be nothing left. Not even me. I’d scatter on the wind, broken and lost to both this world and the next.

But thankfully, that didn’t happen this time.

Azriel was waiting at the gates when I got there. The heat of him washed over me as I landed—more accurately, splattered—onto the roadside, signaling just how close he was.

“Don’t,” I croaked, warding off the possibility of help even though I couldn’t see him, let alone know for sure he was even going to offer.

He didn’t. I stayed on my hands and knees battling to breathe as every inch of me shook and my head felt like it was about to split open.

After what seemed like ages, a pair of sapphire running shoes appeared in front of my somewhat blurry line of sight. I blinked, then recognized them. They belonged to Ilianna.

“Fuck, Risa, you’ve got to learn to take better care of yourself.” Her jean-clad knees appeared as she squatted in front of me. “Here, drink this.”

She shoved a thermos at me. I sat back somewhat cautiously but nowhere near slow enough, and madmen with red-hot daggers went insane in my head. I blinked back tears and reached for the container, my hand shaking so hard the contents splashed over the rim.

I sniffed it warily. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon and eucalyptus, but there were other scents in there I couldn’t place.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said crossly, “it’s not going to poison you. Just drink.”

I did. The potion was thick and somewhat bitter, but I got it down and did actually start feeling better almost immediately. “How did you know I was here, let alone that I needed help?”

She raised an eyebrow. “How do you think?” She nodded toward Azriel, who remained near the gates, his arms crossed and his expression retaining its usual neutrality. But I still sensed the tension in him—though, to be honest, I’d never actually seen him look truly relaxed. Maybe tension was part of his makeup, or what made him such a good Mijai. Or maybe it was simply the end result of being forced to remain
near me. Ilianna added, “He might not be able to enter the ritual grounds, but he sure as hell can yell.”

Azriel? Yell? He vary rarely raised his voice, so it was hard to imagine him actually yelling. Besides, surely I would have heard it. He wasn’t standing that far away. I handed her back the thermos. “How’s Tao?”

She grimaced. “No better, no worse. The holy water and his own healing capabilities have fixed most of the burns, but I’m worried about what might be happening on the inside.”

“We can’t do anything about that.”

She met my gaze.
“We
can’t. But maybe the Brindle can.”

I frowned and irritably brushed at the sweaty strands of hair that fell over my eyes. “The Brindle isn’t a healing center. What could they do that you can’t?”

“The Brindle is the home of all witch knowledge,” she said grimly. “And some of the most powerful witches alive today are there. I don’t know how to heal Tao, Risa, but they just
might.”

Her expression was determined, but deep in the recesses of her green eyes fear lurked.

“At what cost to you?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t leave Tao like this. He saved my
life,
Risa. I can’t not do the same for him.”

“I know, but—”

She placed a finger against my lips. Her skin was even colder than mine. “I know the risks. I can guess what they will demand. But even if I’m wrong, even if
they demand something more of me, it’s a price I’m willing to pay to make Tao well again.”

I gently caught her fingers in mine. “He may never be well again. We both need to face that.”

“I will—but only when we’ve searched every damn book in the Brindle and done everything possible to help him.”

There was no arguing with her. As much as we both knew Kiandra would use this to draw Ilianna back into the fold, if that was a price Ilianna was willing to pay, then there was nothing I could do to gainsay her. I wanted Tao whole as much as she did, but she was the one who’d be affected. If this was her decision—if this is what she was willing to do—then I could only support her—both now, and later, when the Brindle extracted its payment.

I squeezed her hand and said, “If you’re sure, then let’s call them.”

“I already have.” She grimaced and glanced past me. “That’s them coming up the road now.”

I turned around. My ribs—which I’d forgotten about in the agony of changing from Aedh to human form—sent me another sharp reminder that they weren’t yet healed. I winced, blinking back tears as I studied the road below us. Two lights speared the darkness, and the sound of a car engine suddenly rode the night.

I met Ilianna’s gaze again. “Who’s coming?”

She shrugged. “I asked for people versed in healing, just in case his condition worsened on the trip down.”

“So not your mother or Kiandra?”

She smiled slightly. “No. Mom’s in season, so dad’s
keeping her busy, and Kiandra rarely ventures out of the Brindle’s confines.”

I said, “Isn’t your mom a little old to still be coming into season?”

She laughed and pulled her hands from mine. “A mare is never too old to come into season, and a stallion never too old to impregnate her. Thankfully, my father has accepted Mom’s desire not to have more children.”

“No doubt because he still has a whole stableful of mares to cater to his breeding instincts.”

“Ten of them,” she said cheerfully. “Some stallions never lose their virility, it seems.”

I snorted softly. At last count, she’d had around thirty-five half siblings. It sounded like that figure was still increasing.

A long, ambulance-like van drove into the clearing and stopped beside Ilianna’s four-wheel drive. She rose and strode over to talk to them. I blew out a breath, then pushed somewhat shakily to my feet and walked over to Azriel.

His presence swirled around me—a blanket of heat and something else, something that was oddly comforting.

And yet it made me ache far worse than any injury, because I wanted more than just a comforting swirl of energy. I wanted what Riley had. Someone to hold me, support me, to kiss me gently when I needed it, or to tell me off when I was being an ass. I wanted someone who loved me for
me,
warts and all, rather than loving my money or for who my mom might have been.

But I might never find any of that. Mom had never mentioned love and children in my future, and certainly it wasn’t something my visions had ever hinted at. Besides, the depth of love and understanding Riley and Quinn had found seemed to be rare in this world—or at least, that was the way it seemed to me given Mom’s experiences and mine. But that knowledge didn’t dampen the desire.

Still, right now I had to settle for what I had. A fallen Aedh who was an excellent lover, and a reaper who was a protector if not a friend, and in whose presence I at least felt safe.

Even if that odd tension still rode him.

I stopped beside him, rubbing my arms lightly as I turned and watched Ilianna lead the two witches—who were carrying a stretcher between them through the ritual site’s gates.

“If you are cold,” he said, almost immediately, “you should go sit inside Ilianna’s car.”

“I will.”

He glanced down at me. “And yet here you remain.”

“Because I want to know why you’re so tense. Are you expecting another attack?”

He hesitated. “There will be more attacks. We would be foolish to believe otherwise.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the cause of your tension right now, is it?”

“This person you saw stealing the key—was it your father?”

I frowned at the change of subject, although I wasn’t entirely surprised. He tended to do that when
hit with a question he didn’t want to answer. “No. It didn’t feel like him. Why?”

“Because I cannot escape the notion that he is the most logical person behind this attack.”

“Why would he bother to attack us like that when we’re doing what he wanted and finding the keys? That doesn’t seem very logical.”

“Aedh logic is not human logic.”

“That still doesn’t explain the fact that it makes no sense for him to be behind the attack.”

“It would if it was some kind of subterfuge.”

I shivered, and wondered if the night were getting colder or if the chill was simply the result of growing trepidation. “What kind of subterfuge?”

He shrugged. “Maybe it is simply a way of throwing the Raziq off his trail.”

“Every time he interacts with this world—or with me—he reveals his presence to the Raziq. Why would he risk all that only to sabotage our efforts?”

“He would know that the reapers follow you. Creating a diversion and stealing the key ensures he gets it rather than us reapers.”

“But he had no way of knowing we’d found the key,” I said, frustration and perhaps a touch of fear sharpening my tone, “because he and I aren’t connected and he can’t read my mind unless he’s in my presence. And I
would
have felt him if he were present. Besides, you sensed the black magic before we’d gotten anywhere near the key. Whoever was behind the attack, they were well prepared for our presence.”

“Which, again, points to your father.” He hesitated, his expression cooling a little—which I hadn’t thought possible. “There’s a spy in our midst.”

I sighed wearily. I didn’t have the energy for anything else, not even to raise the spark of anger. “Don’t start on Lucian again. He was with us in that house and fought
against
those creatures, not with them. He isn’t a part of some nefarious plot to steal the keys from underneath our noses.”

“And you are one hundred percent sure of this?”

“Yes!” Exhaustion, it seemed, hadn’t quite snuffed out the anger after all. “Lucian might be many things, but a traitor isn’t one of them. Of that I’m positive.”

Azriel looked away. “Then I must trust your judgment.”

“And I’ve heard that fucking statement more than once. Maybe it’d be more believable if you actually did it rather than merely pay it lip service.”

He acknowledged the words with a slight incline of his head. “If it isn’t your father, then I am at a loss.”

I bit my lip and resisted the urge to simply sit down and cry. I might be feeling weak, but tears wouldn’t get me anywhere. So I crossed my arms, leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree, and thought about what I’d seen and felt in that room. And somewhere deep in the recesses, an idea stirred. “Maybe,” I said slowly, “the dark magic itself will give us a clue.”

I could feel his gaze on me but I didn’t meet it, teasing out the idea, letting it grow. “This is not the first time we’ve encountered dark magic.”