Darkness Devours
Page 55

“Out there. I feel the need to get out and about.”
He nodded. “Know that feeling. I’ll give you a yell when they’re ready.”
I watched him walk out of the room, then carefully climbed out of bed. The room swung around me and my legs felt like water, and it was only a fierce determination that I would not fall that kept me upright. As Azriel had noted on numerous occasions, I could be a stubborn bitch when I wanted to be.
I walked a little unsteadily across to my bathroom, then twisted around in front of the mirror to check out my various injuries. My reflection revealed a myriad of half-healed wounds, although the one down my spine was by far the worst. Azriel was right—that one would scar.
No more low-backed evening dresses for me, I thought grimly. Especially if my aunt was around. She would not take kindly to discovering that I’d been in situations dangerous enough to get hurt this badly without calling her in.
Heat shimmered across my skin. I turned around as Azriel appeared near my bed. His gaze skimmed me, a critical inspection that nevertheless had delight skittering through me.
“You should not be up,” he said eventually. “You look exhausted.”
“I need to stretch my legs, and I need to eat.” I hesitated. “How did the meeting with Hunter go?”
“She was well aware of your victory. Apparently, the Cazador witnessed your fight with Rakshasa.”
And that rankled him. Massively. “My getting snatched is not your fault, Azriel. I should have been more aware of what was going on.”
“As should I.” He practically spat the words. “If I had been, I would have stopped the Rakshasa before she dove underground, and you would not be in this state.”
“Which is a point we could argue endlessly, and one that really doesn’t matter anymore.”
I grabbed my dressing gown from the bathroom hook and put it on as I walked across the room. He didn’t react when I stopped in front of him, but the connection between us was stronger than ever before. His emotions were a tidal wave that crashed through every fiber of my being, a tumultuous mix of desire, caring, and anger. If I’d had the energy, I would have danced. He might be determined to hold what lay between us at arm’s length, but at least he couldn’t deny the strength of it. Not when it hummed so fiercely.
“In the end, the only thing that matters is that I did what the council wanted and survived.” I paused, then grimaced. “My only regret is that with the Rakshasa gone, the ghosts have no outlet for their fury, and the club has no reason to stop that room from being used.”
“The grief of the ghosts is powerful enough that it will attract other dark forces. This will not be the last we hear of that room.”
“Unfortunately.” I rubbed my arms against the chill of premonition. “We can only hope that next time, the council do their own fucking dirty work.”
“I doubt they will now that they have your services to call on in such matters.”
I raised my eyebrows. “So the vote has gone in my favor?”
“Hunter seems confident it will. The Cazador’s report was apparently impressive.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. I sighed contentedly and rested my cheek against his shoulder.
“There is nothing you can do about the club or the council’s use of the whores,” he continued softly. “Not without endangering yourself or anyone you told.”
“I know, and that’s what’s so frustrating.”
His lips brushed the top of my head, the touch so light and yet so electric. I shivered.
“Those behind such an atrocity will in the end pay. Karma is a very real force.”
“But a force that in this case is not likely to react soon enough.”
“That is true.”
“Ris,” Tao called from the other room. “Dinner is up!”
I pulled somewhat reluctantly out of Azriel’s arms. His grip slipped from my waist to my elbow. “Ready?”
I nodded, and with his help, I made it into the living area. Ilianna appeared out of the kitchen, her smile wide and her expression filled with relief.
“Damn, it’s good to have you back.” She stopped in front of me and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “I’d hug the hell out of you, but you look rather fragile at the moment.”
“I look it because I feel it.” With Azriel’s help, I eased down onto a chair. “I think I need a mountain of food and Coke, and I don’t care which comes first.”
“Both are on their way,” she said, and headed back to the kitchen.
Tao came out of the kitchen, handed me a large glass of Coke, then pulled out a chair to sit beside me. The doorbell rang, and he hesitated. “You expecting anyone?”
I shook my head.
“Nor me,” Ilianna said from the confines of the kitchen.
“A human stands at the door,” Azriel noted, then cocked his head sideways a little. “A messenger. He leaves.”
Oh god, I thought, trepidation suddenly so thick it practically closed my throat. The last two times a messenger had come to our door it was to deliver a message from my father, and a whole lot of trouble had ensued.
I wasn’t ready for that.
I really wasn’t.
I licked my lips and looked up at Tao. “We’d better see what’s been left this time.”
He nodded and walked across the room. I twisted around to watch him. He punched the code on the security panel and the door slid open, revealing a plain brown envelope. He swooped, picked it up, then closed the door and walked back.
My gaze dropped to the envelope and my throat went dry. It was from my father. I recognized the handwriting on the front.
I held out a hand and Tao silently gave it to me. Tension rode his movements and his expression was dark. He knew.
I took a deep breath to gather courage, then slid a fingernail under the edge. Inside was a solitary piece of paper. I pulled it out and opened it. The words inside were brief and to the point.
The time has come to find the second key. Meet me, usual place, two days from now.
I didn’t say anything. I closed my eyes and handed the piece of paper to Tao.
“Fuck,” he said. “This isn’t what we need right now.”
No, it wasn’t, but there wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it, either—except pray that fate would give us a break. I didn’t think any of us could stand too much more hardship.
But even as that thought crossed my mind, I knew it was futile. Fate had abandoned us long ago, and everything we’d gone through so far was little more than the initial skirmish. The real war was coming, and if I was still alive at the end of it all, I’d be very fucking surprised.
I didn’t have the courage to go on, I thought wearily. Didn’t have the strength.
But even as the all-too-familiar doubts crossed my mind, I remembered everything I’d done and everything I’d been through—with the Raziq, the Rakshasa, the battle with my sword. Time and again, I’d done whatever had been needed to survive—sometimes with help, sometimes not.
I had the courage. I could do what had to be done.
Not matter what the consequences.
No matter what the cost.