Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

“Okay,” he agreed. “But for God’s sake, be careful, Ris.”

“Uncle Rhoan, those creatures weren’t here to kill me. They were here to distract me. Whoever did this wants me alive.”

“For the moment.” He waved a hand. “Go. Just make sure you’re contactable in case I need anything else.”

I nodded and glanced at Azriel. I need to go see Ilianna and Tao.

He nodded imperceptibly. Shall I meet you at the ritual site’s gates?

I hesitated, knowing that I wasn’t up to much and yet very aware of the odd tension that still rode him.

Yes, I said eventually, and he immediately winked out of existence.

My own departure was a little less hurried, the change sweeping over me even more sluggishly. I was pushing my limits, and sooner or later the well would run dry and there’d be nothing left. Not even me. I’d scatter on the wind, broken and lost to both this world and the next.

But thankfully, that didn’t happen this time.

Azriel was waiting at the gates when I got there. The heat of him washed over me as I landed—more accurately, splattered—onto the roadside, signaling just how close he was.

“Don’t,” I croaked, warding off the possibility of help even though I couldn’t see him, let alone know for sure he was even going to offer.

He didn’t. I stayed on my hands and knees battling to breathe as every inch of me shook and my head felt like it was about to split open.

After what seemed like ages, a pair of sapphire running shoes appeared in front of my somewhat blurry line of sight. I blinked, then recognized them. They belonged to Ilianna.

“Fuck, Risa, you’ve got to learn to take better care of yourself.” Her jean-clad knees appeared as she squatted in front of me. “Here, drink this.”

She shoved a thermos at me. I sat back somewhat cautiously but nowhere near slow enough, and madmen with red-hot daggers went insane in my head. I blinked back tears and reached for the container, my hand shaking so hard the contents splashed over the rim.

I sniffed it warily. It smelled vaguely of cinnamon and eucalyptus, but there were other scents in there I couldn’t place.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she said crossly, “it’s not going to poison you. Just drink.”

I did. The potion was thick and somewhat bitter, but I got it down and did actually start feeling better almost immediately. “How did you know I was here, let alone that I needed help?”

She raised an eyebrow. “How do you think?” She nodded toward Azriel, who remained near the gates, his arms crossed and his expression retaining its usual neutrality. But I still sensed the tension in him—though, to be honest, I’d never actually seen him look truly relaxed. Maybe tension was part of his makeup, or what made him such a good Mijai.

Or maybe it was simply the end result of being forced to remain near me. Ilianna added, “He might not be able to enter the ritual grounds, but he sure as hell can yell.”

Azriel? Yell? He vary rarely raised his voice, so it was hard to imagine him actually yelling. Besides, surely I would have heard it. He wasn’t standing that far away. I handed her back the thermos. “How’s Tao?”

She grimaced. “No better, no worse. The holy water and his own healing capabilities have fixed most of the burns, but I’m worried about what might be happening on the inside.”

“We can’t do anything about that.”

She met my gaze. “We can’t. But maybe the Brindle can.”

I frowned and irritably brushed at the sweaty strands of hair that fell over my eyes. “The Brindle isn’t a healing center. What could they do that you can’t?”

“The Brindle is the home of all witch knowledge,” she said grimly. “And some of the most powerful witches alive today are there. I don’t know how to heal Tao, Risa, but they just might.”

Her expression was determined, but deep in the recesses of her green eyes fear lurked.

“At what cost to you?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t leave Tao like this. He saved my life, Risa. I can’t not do the same for him.”

“I know, but—”