Darkness Unmasked (DA 5) (18 page)

Azriel pulled me into his arms, then swept us away. We reappeared in my bathroom, but it wasn’t enough. I could still feel the fangs. I raced under the shower, throwing off my clothes and stomping on the black bodies that fell like rain around me. Despite the heat of the water, I was shivering like crazy, and my skin crawled with the sensation of movement.

“Are there any left?” I asked, spinning around almost wildly, trying to spot the creepy little bastards.

“No.” Azriel caught my arm and made me stop. “They’re gone. It’s okay.”

I shuddered. “It still feels like they’re on me.”

“No.” He hesitated. “But we should go back—”

“There is no way in
hell
I’m going back into that room.”

“If you’d let me finish a sentence occasionally,” he said, voice a mix of amusement and annoyance, “I was going to suggest you talk to the manager while I investigate the room to see if the woman left anything behind in her haste to escape.”

“Oh.” I gulped down some air in an attempt to calm my still-racing pulse. “That I can do. Just wait until I get dressed.”

He handed me a towel. “I was not intending otherwise.”

I raised my eyebrows. “If I didn’t know you better, reaper, I’d suggest there was an almost propitiatory note in your voice when you said that.”

“Then you would be wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“So if I started shagging Lucian again, you wouldn’t care?”

He gave me a look. One that suggested I was being silly. I grinned.

“There is a
vast
difference between not caring about who sees your outer layer and whether you’re with Lucian.”

“So, Lucian aside, you wouldn’t care if I found myself another lover?”

He crossed his arms, his expression giving little away. But tiny flickers of annoyance danced both along Valdis’s sides and through the outer reaches of my mind, a sure sign that he was not as calm as he appeared. “That is not your intention, so why bring it up?”

“Because it’s sometimes amusing to see your very human reactions.” I rose on my toes and kissed him. “And now I’ll get dressed.”

“And I would like to point out that the workings of your mind are sometimes incomprehensible.”

“Does that mean I sometimes make sense?” I brushed past him, dumped the wet towel down the laundry chute, then headed for my wardrobe.

His gaze followed me, a caress that sent a tingly warmth skittering all the way down to my toes. It was certainly a more welcome sensation than the tiny tickles of thousands of spidery feet.

“Occasionally.
Very
occasionally.”

I grinned again. “Just think how boring your life would be without me.”

“I do.” He hesitated. “Possibly more than is wise.”

I shot him a glance. “So you’re actually going to miss me when this assignment is over and you leave?”

He hesitated again, and my amusement died. Hesitation was
not
what I’d expected. Not now. Not after all that had happened between us. And yet, as Ilianna had so rightly pointed out, the future was not something I should be worrying about right now. But, at the same time, how could I not when it came to him and me? Because I didn’t
want
him to leave. Not now, not ever.

Yet that was the
one
thing that was never in doubt.

I ignored the ache that accompanied the thought and quickly waved a hand. “Sorry. Dumb question. Forget it.”

I turned and grabbed the nearest clothing item. It turned out to be a short jean skirt that was more suited to summer than the chill of a day like today, but what the hell. I teamed it with a thick cashmere sweater that hugged me in all the right places, then wondered who I was trying to impress. Azriel certainly couldn’t care one way or another what I was wearing.

Once I’d pulled on tall leather boots, brushed my hair, and grabbed my handbag, I turned around and gave him a bright smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Risa—”

I cut him off with a sharp motion. “Don’t worry about it, Azriel.”

“I can hardly
not
worry about it when you are.” He caught my hand and drew me toward him. But he didn’t kiss me, didn’t do any of those things that a human—or non-human—male might have done. Instead, he said, “The future is in a vast state of disarray right now. No one, not even those of us whose duty it is to know the future of everyone who lives on this plane, can guess at where this quest might lead.”

My gaze searched his. “Meaning death is becoming more and more likely?”

He shrugged and gently brushed a stray strand of damp hair from my eyes. “It has always been a possibility.”

“And yet you got angry when I said my death might be a good thing.”

“Because there is a huge difference between taking one’s own life and a death that has been foretold. I would not like to see you end up as one of the lost ones.”

“Trust me, it’s not like I’d want that, either.” Yet I couldn’t shake the notion that
that
possibility was still on the table. I sighed. “As I said, let’s forget it. We need to go talk to the people at Hallowed Ground before bitch-face rings and blasts me.”

“Her time will come,” he said. “Have no fear of that.”

“Then I hope I’m still around to see it.”

“I suspect that even if you are
not
instrumental in the event, you will at least be there,” he said. “And no, I will not say more.”

“Damn you—”

“I was and am,” he said grimly; then his energy swept through us, zipping us across to the Hallowed Ground in no time at all.

He dropped me in front of the place, then disappeared again before I could question him. I cursed him softly and headed inside the club. Though there was no entertainer onstage, the club had lost none of its patrons. But I guess that wasn’t surprising given it was barely one thirty and most of them were vampires. I walked across to the bar and showed the man idly polishing glasses my badge. “I need to talk to someone about the fill-in entertainer you hired today.”

The bartender—a balding, pot-bellied vampire who smelled of an odd mix of garlic and alcohol—shrugged. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, love. Not my line of work, that, and I don’t talk to the entertainers much.”

“Not even briefly?”

“No.”

A non-chatty bartender was not what I needed right now. “What about the owner?”

“He’s not here.”

“Then who hired the replacement?”

“That would be Harry, the manager.” Amusement lit his brown eyes. “But you didn’t ask for the manager, now, did you?”

“I think it could have been taken as a given, seeing I asked to talk to whoever was in charge,” I said, barely holding back the annoyance in my voice.

“Ah, but you see, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over my many years of working in non-human establishments, it’s that you should never take anything as a given or anyone at face value.”

“Which isn’t bad advice in general.” I hesitated, remembering Hunter’s warning, then gave a mental shrug. If she wanted answers, then I had to question the people who were here, whether she liked it or not. “Can I speak to Harry, then?”

“Sure. He’s in the office down past the end of the bar.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded, and his gaze followed me, burning a hole in the middle of my spine as I headed down. I had a feeling that it would be a bad mistake to think he was as meek and as mild as he appeared.

The office door was open, and the vampire inside—a man with ebony skin and dark hair—looked up before I could knock. His eyes were an almost incandescent green that glowed brightly against his skin.

“You wanted to see me?”

Obviously, the bartender had psychically warned his boss of my presence. “I did.”

He waved a hand toward the somewhat scruffy leather chair on the other side of his desk. “About what?”

I sat down. “The fill-in entertainer you hired today.”

He snorted. “I can tell you one thing: She won’t be coming back. She did a runner well before her set was finished.” He studied me for a second, something close to amusement in his eyes. “Seems someone scared her off.”

And I had a feeling he knew it was me. “Unfortunate, given I need to speak to her.”

I showed him my badge, and his eyebrows rose. “So we
are
hiring werewolves these days.”

“Well, no, just me. You could say I’m special.”

“Could I, now?” He leaned back in his chair and studied me for several seconds before adding, “And did they give you the nano microcells you’re wearing?”

The amusement I’d glimpsed in his eyes was definitely evident in his voice, and I had to wonder what the hell was going on. “No, they are a means of self-preservation.”

“Do they keep Hunter out?”

I hadn’t felt him attempting to read my mind, but then, with the best telepaths, you didn’t. “Mostly.” I shrugged. “Probably as much as it has kept you out.”

He smiled. “I can read only the occasional surface thought.”

“As can she, and usually the worst possible ones.”

His smile grew as he leaned forward and offered me his hand. “Harry Stanford, at your service.”

His grip was firm, but not overpowering. A vampire who was confident in his own strength and who saw no need to display it—unlike Hunter.

I studied him for several seconds, mulling over our brief conversation, then said, a little hesitantly, “Are you, by chance, on the high council yourself?”

“And where would you get that idea, young lady?”

“It’s a guess.”

“Then it is a good one.” He picked up a pen and began to tap the table lightly.

Unease slithered through me, and my pulse rate began to skip—never a good thing when cornered in a small room with a vampire.

“And, uh, were you on the side of those who thought I could be of use to the council, or one of the ones who thought it would be better for all concerned if I were killed?”

“Neither. I could not see the sense in killing you before we’d explored and discussed all possible outcomes.” A half smile touched his lips. “And I would never, under any circumstance, side with Hunter.”

“Oh.” Great. He hated Hunter, and I was here under her orders.

“Never fear,” he said, almost jovially. “There is no point in killing the messenger when it is the master I would rather see dead.”

“If you
did
attempt to harm her,” Azriel said, voice flat but nevertheless deadly. He rested a hand on my left shoulder as he reappeared beside me. “You would be dead before you even left your chair.”

“Ah, the reaper himself. I was wondering when you’d turn up.”

“I am never far away.”

“Indeed.” He studied the two of us for a moment, then said, “You do realize, don’t you, that Hunter has no intention of ever letting you off her leash? Her plans for you are vast, and the keys play only a minor part of that.”

The keys were hardly a minor part when the earth risked being overrun either by the denizens of hell or unhappy souls unable to move on. “I got that impression. But, for the moment, I need her. Or rather, I need her resources.”

His snort was disparaging. “What, to find your mother’s murderer? Do you honestly think she has any intention of allowing that? Or that she even cares, now that she has what she wants? You, in her pocket?”

My unease grew. Why the hell was he saying all this? I had no damn idea—but one thing was for sure. It couldn’t be for any
good
reason. “There are Cazadors working—”

“There was one. He found no clues, just as the Directorate found no clues. Your mother’s killer might as well be a ghost, for all the evidence he left behind.”

I flexed my fingers, trying to relax, but it didn’t help much. “I agreed to help her if she helped me. I cannot back out of that arrangement.”

Yet, I added silently.

“Not unless you have the help of someone strong enough to rival her.”

And there it was, I thought. The twist in the tale fate just loved applying to make my life even more interesting.

My smile was grim. “I may not know much about the inside workings of the high council, but I do know that if you thought yourself her match, you could challenge her anytime you wanted.”

“I could, but that would be playing by the rules. She doesn’t, so I see no reason for me to do so.”

Wonderful. Another schemer. Just what I needed in my life right now. “If you’re so powerful, how come you’re the daytime manager of a club like this?” I hesitated, then added rather hastily, “No offense meant.”

He waved a hand—an elegant gesture that nevertheless managed to highlight the muscular nature of his arms. “It amuses me to work here.”

And it had the advantage of keeping him out of Hunter’s eye, I suspected. Just as I suspected that
this
man was the reason for her warning about talking to anyone but the owner.

“Why are you saying all this to me?” I asked, a little hesitantly. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Hunter? Or that she’ll pick the conversation out of my thoughts?”

“Do I fear the former? No.” He leaned forward and crossed his arms on the desk. “As to the latter, she is welcome to whatever remnants she can retrieve past those nano cells. She knows I plot, just as I know she plots. It is a game we have played for a very long time.”

“Well, it’s not one
I
want to be in the middle of.”

“And yet here you are, right in the middle.”

“Uh, no. I’m working for Hunter on a case, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Hunter intends to use you
and
the keys to become overlord of the council.”

“And you don’t?”

He smiled. It was quite a pleasant smile compared to Hunter’s, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t as cold-blooded and calculating as she was.

“No, actually, I don’t. I just believe that the council—and the world in general—would not only be better off if the gate situation remained as it is, but a hugely nicer place to live in without her polluting presence.”

A sentiment I could totally agree with—and I had to wonder if he was choosing his words to match whatever thoughts he might be catching.

“I see no point in falsehoods,” he commented, thereby confirming that he was, indeed,
catching some of my thoughts. “Especially when Hunter herself is my greatest asset when it comes to convincing others she must go.”