Darkness Splintered
Page 25

He accepted the cash with a nod, then walked over to one of the broken windows and assumed his “soldier on guard” position – hands behind his back and feet slightly apart. The occasional ripple of blue running down Valdis’s length showed she was as alert as her master.
I headed for my bathroom, stripping off my dress and kicking off my shoes along the way. The light came on as I entered, and the black slate was warm under my feet, meaning neither the fire nor the water had damaged any of the electrical or heating circuits in this part of the house. Tao’s insistence on having separate circuits for the various sections of the warehouse had finally paid off. I dumped the dress into the laundry chute, then stepped into the shower. The water came on automatically at just the right temperature, the sharp spray like needles against my skin. For several moments I did nothing more than stand there, lifting my face to the spray and allowing the water to run down my body. And wished it could wash away the grief and tiredness as easily as it washed away the grime.
After several minutes, I sighed and got down to the business of washing. I didn’t have time to waste, and as much as I would have liked to stay there, letting the jets of hot water massage and soothe, there was too much to be done.
Once dry and dressed – this time in more sensible jeans, a sweater, socks, and boots – I headed for the living room, only to stop when I saw an envelope sitting near the end of my bed.
Trepidation raced through me. In the past, an envelope or parcel arriving on my bed had generally heralded a change of events or circumstances, and not always for the better.
But standing here staring at it wasn’t going to make it go away. Nor would it uncover what delights it had in store for me this time.
Azriel appeared as I somewhat tentatively picked it up, his shoulder lightly touching mine. Warmth flowed between us, but it failed to ease the rising sense of dread. Obviously, my psychic senses had already decided this note held nothing good.
But this time it wasn’t from my father. Not only was the paper quality more everyday than upmarket, but the writing on the front was very different. It simply said Urgent in what I’d term bold and masculine handwriting.
Mouth dry, not knowing what to expect or who it was from, I slid a fingernail under the flap and opened it up. Inside was a single white sheet of paper. The message was short – It is imperative we meet, but we can only do so on the astral plane. I will be where we first met at one. Markel. 12:05 a.m.
I glanced at my watch. One o’clock was only twelve minutes away. I folded the note and glanced at Azriel. “What do you think?”
“My immediate thought is that Tao must have been here at the time this was delivered. Markel is a vampire, and he could not have left this note on your bed due to the fact he has not been invited into your home.”
I blinked. I hadn’t even thought of that. “I’m not sure it’s much of a comfort.” Especially given an awful lot could happen in a forty-minute time frame. I waved the note. “Could this be a trap?”
“It is always a possibility.” Azriel’s expression gave little away – as usual – but his tension flowed through me, a river of energy that tingled across my skin, making it twitch. “And I can neither follow nor protect you on the fields. He may well be aware of that.”
“Yes.” I glanced down at the note again, and wished I had the capability to read between the lines. But other than the tension flowing through me – both mine and Azriel’s – my psychic senses were giving me squat.
“The mere fact he wishes to meet on the astral plane suggests he has no desire for anyone to witness it.” Azriel’s voice was grim. “And that could mean this meeting would displease Hunter greatly.”
And Markel was canny enough not to displease Hunter – which only made this request all the more ominous.
“I should go. Just in case.”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “In case of what? You have enough to deal with as it is, Risa. There is no need to be seeking more trouble.”
“What if it’s not trouble? What if it’s something vital about the keys or our sorcerers?”
“If it was something vital to our quest, it would have come to us via Hunter.” He crossed his arms. “But I can see there is no dissuading you.”
“No. Although I don’t know if I’ve got enough time left to get onto the plane.” I was still very much a novice when it came to astral traveling, after all, and it took me longer to find the right frame of mind to astrally step out of my flesh.
“Then you had best start now.” His words rang with disapproval, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t felt that before.
I crawled onto the bed and got myself comfortable, then closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, slowing it down, drawing it deep. As my heartbeat became more measured, a sense of peace enveloped me and the tension in my limbs began to slip away. Then, as Adeline had taught me, I pictured a rope hanging above my head and reached up with imaginary hands to grasp it. It felt thick and real against those fingers, and as strong as steel… I pulled myself upward along it. Dizziness briefly swept over me, seeming to come from the center of my chest, but I ignored it and kept climbing that rope. The pressure grew and every inch of me began to vibrate. Then, suddenly, I was free and floating above my prone form.
I didn’t hang about, simply imagined the gigantic shed that was the Central Pier function center on Melbourne’s docklands district – the place where I’d not only first met Markel, but had interviewed the ghost of Frank Logan. In an instant I was there.
And so was Markel. He was tall, with regal features and a body that was as lean as a whip. He bowed as my gaze met his, his expression giving little away but his brown eyes showing a touch of relief.
It is good of you to come. His mind voice was cool, without inflection, but not unpleasant. I wasn’t sure that you would.
I did think about not coming. My reply, like his, was thought rather than spoken. You couldn’t actually talk here on the astral plane, just as you couldn’t physically move. Everything had to be done on a subconscious rather than conscious level – although that didn’t restrict you from fighting or even dying on the fields. And if you died on the astral plane, then you died in real time, too. But curiosity got the better of me. Of course, curiosity has also gotten the better of many a dead cat.
He smiled, although it held little humor or warmth. I did not arrange this meeting in order to harm you.
Then why did you arrange it?
He hesitated, and that in itself was enough to send trepidation skittering through me. Markel was a Cazador. They never hesitated. They just did whatever needed to be done, in the most efficient way possible.
Because someone wishes to speak to you. Someone neither of us should be seen with.
And with that, he moved to one side and a second man stepped forward out of the ghostly surrounds.
It was Harry Stanford, the manager of Hallowed Ground and the vampire who wanted me to kill Hunter.
Chapter 8
Fury swept through me and the plane responded instantly; shadows crowded close and the very air began to vibrate ominously.
I flexed imaginary fingers and tried to calm down. Getting angry in a place that reacted to your every thought and emotion was damnably dangerous.
What the fuck are you playing at, Markel? I glared at him. So much for attempting to calm down. If you were following me the day I went to Hallowed Ground, you know full well I want nothing to do with this man’s schemes.
I said as much to Harry, Markel replied, voice even and expression unperturbed. But he insisted.
“Harry,” not “Stanford.” Suggesting he and Stanford were, at the very least, well known to each other.
I snorted. And a Cazador has no other choice but to give in to a nightclub manager?
When that manager is not only a trusted friend, but a former Cazador himself, then yes, I do.
My gaze shot to Stanford, who was regarding me neutrally. He was a dark-haired, dark-skinned man of indefinable age, with incandescent green eyes that glowed with an unearthly fire here on the astral plane. That he was a former Cazador certainly explained the sense of danger I’d gotten the last time I’d been in his presence.
If you’re a damn Cazador, I hardly think you’d need my help to take the bitch out.
A smiled teased the corners of his lips, but barely reached his bright eyes. You’ve now seen what Hunter is capable of. Do you really think one lone Cazador is capable of beating her?
The only way he could know I’d witnessed Hunter’s full capabilities was if Markel had told him. And that meant Markel was more than just a messenger.
But you’re not one lone Cazador, are you? I waved a hand in Markel’s direction. That he’s here very much suggests he’s on your side.
Harry definitely isn’t alone in his desire to rid the council of the stain that is Hunter. Markel’s mind voice held a touch of grimness. But she is also by no means alone. Too many vampires fear her, and will never risk going up against her.
So, I commented, the majority of council members – many of whom are hundreds of years old and very dangerous in their own right – fear to cross Hunter. And yet you’re expecting me to?
Brought down to basics, that’s precisely what we’re expecting, Stanford said. She’s now killed a former lover of yours. How many more of your loved ones will have to die before you realize she will never get her hooks out of you? She owns you, Risa, for as long as you have people you care about.
She won’t kill any more of my friends. She’s not that stupid.
If you honestly believe that, Markel commented, then you are the one who is stupid.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew it was more than a possibility, but it was one I wasn’t about to admit to in front of these two men. If I acknowledged their point, it would somehow feel like I was giving ground. And are the Cazadors behind this coup attempt?
Again he hesitated. No. Not all of them.
What about the other two who follow me about? Do they side with you, or with Hunter? Or are they the reason we’re meeting here?