Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

“Because,” she said, a smile touching her thin lips, “speaking in riddles means we can never truly be wrong. It is merely a matter of interpretation.”

I grinned despite the rather shocked realization that she could read my thoughts. Was I an open book to everyone these days? I hoped like hell the nano-implants worked better on vampires than they seemed to on Aedh, reapers, and witches. “You know, that’s the most honest statement I think I’ve heard all day.”

“And that is a sad state of affairs,” she commented as she led the way back down the hall.

“I guess it is.” I shivered a little as she opened the door and the wind whisked in, colder and stronger than it had been fifteen minutes ago. “Thanks for taking the time to see me.”

She nodded and watched me leave, her gaze burning into my spine long after I’d left her house. I shivered again, then jumped as my phone rang loudly.

Lucian’s cheery features came up instantly on the vid-screen. “Hey gorgeous,” he said. “I’m missing you already.”

I grinned. “No, I am not coming over to your place tonight. I’m tired. I need to sleep.”

“And here I was thinking you had the stamina of a wolf.”

“I do. It’s just been one hell of a day.”

He laughed. “Where are you at the moment?”

A yellow cab cruised down the street toward me. I waved a hand and was relieved to see it pull over. “On Chapel Street, just about to catch a cab.”

I opened the door, hopped in, and told the driver the address.

“You’re going to the Langham?” Lucian commented. “And you’re not inviting me? I am offended!”

I laughed. “Yeah, right. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“By tomorrow night I shall be mindless with need.”

“Then go to Franklin’s. You’re a member there now.”

“Ah yes, so I am.” He sighed dramatically. “I suppose I shall just have to be satisfied with slaking my desire on a dozen or so of Franklin’s most nubile offerings.”

“Such a hardship,” I said drily, then glanced up as the cabdriver swerved and swore dramatically.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Just some asshole coming out of a side street without looking,” he replied. “Nothing to—”

The rest of his words were cut off as the cab—and the two of us—were flung hard sideways. Car engines roared, metal crumpled, and someone started screaming. The driver, I realized a little dazedly, feeling warmth trickling down the side of my face and not knowing how it had gotten there. Lucian was yelling, too, calling my name from what seemed a great distance. Then the door on the opposite side was wrenched open, and something sharp hit my neck.

And everything went black.

Chapter Seven

WAKING WAS A SLOW AND UGLY PROCESS. MY head ached like a bitch, and every muscle in my body throbbed in sympathy. It felt like I’d been caught in some gigantic shaker and thrown about viciously.

Which I guess I had, I thought, suddenly remembering the accident.

That I was no longer in the cab was immediately obvious. The vinyl seat that had been pressed against my side had been replaced by cold concrete, and the air reeked of damp, rubbish, and excrement rather than orange freshener.

Which no doubt meant I was down in the goddamn sewer tunnels again. What the hell was it with these tunnels and bad guys? And why was I even here? Why hadn’t Azriel come riding to the rescue?

No answer came out of the darkness and no half-naked, sword-wielding fury strode forward to rescue me. Obviously, for whatever reason, I was alone. Fear rose, but I thrust it aside and tried not to think about the last time I’d been trapped in the sewers by myself.

But I’d escaped that prison on my own, and I’d damn well escape this one, too.

As my eyes adjusted to the inky blackness, the rough-hewn dirt walls and a high arched ceiling became evident. I frowned. This wasn’t a sewer tunnel—although there had to be one close by given the stench in the air—and it certainly seemed a whole lot larger than the last cell I’d found myself in.