Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

“I’m sure my partners will appreciate that,” I muttered. I ran a somewhat shaky hand through my hair. I could do this. I had to do this. “Okay, so what do I need to do?”

He raised the sword, offering it to me hilt first. “Take her.”

I wrapped my hands around the night-dark hilt. Fire flared along the blade’s edge, thick and dangerous. The hilt itself felt warm against my palm, and something within it pulsed, as if it had a life and a heart of its own.

And given it was forged during a demon’s death, maybe it did.

I licked my lips, then raised my gaze to Azriel’s. “Now what?”

“Place the tip against your stomach.”

I closed my eyes against the rush of fear and did as he asked. The metal hummed—a sound that vibrated through every nerve ending.

“Now we perform the bonding ritual. Repeat after me; we are one mind, me and thee.”

I repeated the words softly. Energy stirred, caressing my skin and making the small hairs at the back of my neck rise.

“We are one spirit, me and thee.”

The power in the air increased as I repeated the words, crackling like lightning through the darkness, until it felt as if I were standing in the eye of a storm.

“We are one body, me and thee, spirit within flesh, bound together until life is over and the soul has moved on.”

I repeated the sentence. The words seemed to hang in the air, electric and alive. The sword burned against my palms, throbbing with life and hunger.

“Now,” Azriel said softly, “make the sacrifice.”

I hesitated. I couldn’t help it. Lucian’s warning returned to haunt me and, for the briefest of moments, I wondered what the hell I was doing—and why I trusted Azriel so damn much.

Then I thought of the Raziq, and the danger they represented—not just to me, but to the people I loved. People like Ilianna and Tao, who were putting their lives on the line to help me. If bonding with the sword could help mitigate that danger, then I had no other choice.

I tightened my grip on the sword hilt and drove it into my flesh.

For several heartbeats, nothing happened. The blade carved through skin and muscle as easily as if they were air, until the sword broke out the other side and I was standing there skewered by a blade that was little more than shadows itself.

Then the power surged all around me, becoming a tornado that tore at my skin, my hair, my body, until it felt as if it were stripping me of all that I was, making me as shadowy as the sword.

Then it exploded, the pain hit, and all I could do was scream. Scream and scream and scream as the sword became a part of me.

And then there was nothing. No shadows, no power tearing me apart, just a deep pit of unconsciousness that I fell into gratefully.

Of course, my life being what it was of late, I didn’t get to remain in that peaceful void for long.

As consciousness returned, it became apparent that I was no longer standing. I lay on my back, stretched out on the carpet, my head resting against thighs that were as hard as steel and as hot as a furnace. Gentle fingers brushed sweaty strands of hair from my face.

“Don’t try to speak,” Azriel said softly. “Your throat will be raw.”

From the screaming, no doubt. God, what would the customers think? And why wasn’t a squadron of cops beating down our door right now?

“The magic that binds also contains. The only person who heard your screams was me.”

There was an odd edge to his voice, and I opened my eyes and looked up at him. There was concern and regret in his expression, and maybe even a hint of censure. But at himself rather than me, I suspected.

“You are correct,” he confirmed. “I did not think the binding would affect you that way. It doesn’t us.”

I licked dry lips and somehow croaked, “I’m not Mijai. I’m a half-breed nonhuman.”

A slight smile touched his lips—an echo of warmth that curled through my being, chasing away the chill. “But a very brave one.”