Darkness Falls (Dark Angels 7)

“Yeah, besides that,” I said, voice contrite. “And I’m sorry—”

“I know,” she cut in. “I’m just feeling tired and stressed, and bitchy because of it. Anyway, you need to get your butts over here. We have to talk.”

“How urgent is this?”

“Very, if you want to protect the people you care about.”

“Then I’ll be right over.”

“See you soon.” She hung up.

I put the phone away, then gave Rhoan a smile. “Gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

“I damn well hope so.”

I half stepped toward Azriel, then stopped and turned to face Rhoan again. Clairvoyance wasn’t one of my stronger psychic skills, but when it hit, it wasn’t often wise to ignore it.

And right now, it was hitting hard.

I hesitated, then said, “I don’t suppose I could borrow that ring Liander gave you for your anniversary last year, can I?”

He glanced down at the small, unobtrusive ring on his left hand. “Why?”

My hesitation was longer this time. “Because, as of this minute, I have a horrible feeling I might need it to find you sometime in the future. And while I hope to god I’m wrong, given everything that has happened over the last few days, I just don’t want to take any sort of chance.”

“If something went wrong, and I went missing, Riley would find me.” He eyed me for a minute, his expression thoughtful. “You know that.”

“I know, but the twin connection can be disrupted by magic or drugs—and you know that.”

“True.” He studied me for a moment longer, then tugged the ring off his finger and dropped it into my hand. “Just don’t lose it. Liander will kill me—and you.”

“I won’t.” I shoved it onto my left thumb—the only place it was secure given that his fingers were thicker than mine. Plus, it was safer than merely putting it in my pocket. “But if either our sorceress or Hunter decided to snatch you—and there was no way we could find or rescue you—then Riley would likely kill me.”

Amusement filled his tone, though it failed to break the concerned glitter in his eyes. “But only after she’d rescued me—and you wouldn’t be the only one on the receiving end of the lecture.”

I half smiled. Riley’s lectures had become somewhat infamous over the years, but they were born from both fear and relief, and we all knew that. They usually ended with a fierce hug and a plea not to scare her like that again, anyway, so it was all good.

I stepped forward, dropped a kiss on his cheek, then said, “Just be careful. This is one case where I’m more than happy to have instinct proven wrong.”

“As am I. Go. I’ll get the phone information to you the minute I can.”

We went. A heartbeat later we were once more standing within

the halls of the Brindle. The magic reacted immediately, crawling across my skin like electric gnats, its feel sharp. Probing. Kiandra might have recently woven some exceptions into the barrier that protected this place to allow for our comings and goings, but the Brindle wasn’t about to let us enter unchallenged any more than it would evil. And while I wasn’t evil, I was no longer flesh and blood, and the magic was always going to react to that, regardless.

“You were never just flesh and blood.” Azriel caught my hand and tugged me forward. Up ahead, near the door that led into the Brindle’s shadowed inner sanctuary, a tunic-clad witch waited. “Your heritage is Aedh just as much as werewolf, and it is that bloodline which has always allowed you to sense the magic in this place.”

“Just this place?” I queried, remembering my reaction to the sacred site where Tao had consumed the fire spirit to save Ilianna’s life.

Azriel glanced at me. “Neither Aedh nor reaper can enter that place. That the magic lets you pass rather than forbid your entry is something I cannot explain.”

“Risa, Azriel,” the brown-haired witch said softly, as we approached. “Please follow me.”

She turned and led us through the door, then down a flight of stairs to a hall that was lined with darkly stained timber and filled with shadows. Sconces flickered on as we approached, then went dark once we’d passed, fueled by magic rather than electricity.

We turned right at the end of this hall and went down a second set of stairs and into another hallway. Our guide stopped about halfway down and knocked on a plain wooden door. Then, without waiting for an answer, she opened it and ushered us in. I realized almost immediately where we were—Zaira’s office. It was a small and sweet-smelling room, with little more than a very large old wooden desk, a leather chair that had seen better days, and shelves that lined all available wall space. Books were everywhere—crowding not only the shelves but much of the floor space, a riot of leather-bound color that lent warmth to the otherwise barren room. The smell within the room was divine, and I took a deep, appreciative breath. There was nothing quite like the scent of old books, even when it was almost overwhelmed by the richer scents of lavender and rose.

Ilianna and Kiandra were both sitting near the old desk, and they looked up as we entered. Ilianna’s gaze skimmed us; then she smiled. “Not only alive, but apparently in one piece. It’s a miracle.”