Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

I stopped and half turned to look back at Marshall. “What’s that room down at the end? The one that’s separated from the others?”

“Just another feeding room.”

“Why is it not in line with the others?”

“It’s bigger, that’s all.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t important, but I had an odd sense that it was.

“Why is it bigger?”

He hesitated, and I knew that if I’d been closer, I would have seen that flash of darkness in his eyes again. “Sometimes our clients prefer joint feedings.”

I frowned. “I thought you said that vampires watching each other feed can get dangerous.”

“It can.”

I stared at him as the realization of what was happening in that room sank in. That’s why the antiseptic was so strong. They were cleaning, all right, only it wasn’t for the dirt, blood, and bugs that might come off their clients. It was the bloody remnants of humanity they were washing away.

I turned my back on him, my fists clenched against the sudden rise of anger. I hated what this place was doing to people. Hated that I couldn’t do anything about it. Because of Hunter, because of the threat she represented—not just to me but to all those I cared for. And even to those I didn’t, like Jak.

Azriel touched my back again, but this time the surge of warmth failed to calm. I took a deep breath that did just as little, then walked toward that room.

The closer I got, the more my skin crawled.

I reached out and gripped the handle. The metal felt cold under my touch. Cold and somehow otherworldly.

There are ghosts within, Azriel said. Many, many ghosts.

I wasn’t afraid of ghosts. I never had been. Until now. I licked my lips and pushed the door open.

It hit me. Not the ghosts themselves, but rather their anger. The force of it was so strong it thrust me back into Azriel. He grabbed my waist, holding me upright as I battled to breathe against the sheer force of emotion that was battering us.

It wasn’t ordinary anger. It was murderous.

These ghosts were angry enough to kill.

And maybe even had.

Chapter 4

“Holy shit,” I muttered, staring into the room with wide eyes. The ghosts were filmy wisps, but there were so many of them that their presence made the room appear fog-bound. “Can you feel that?”

“They are not pleased about something,” Azriel agreed. His body was pressed against mine, an oddly comforting sensation.

“That is an understatement,” I muttered, knowing I should move and yet reluctant to do so. He didn’t seem inclined to move, either. “Can ghosts actually muster the energy to kill?”

“No. As many as there are here, they would never hold enough power to take one life, let alone five. Besides, the victims were poisoned and then eaten. That is not the behavior of ghosts.”

“Ghosts?” Marshall said, suddenly appearing beside us. He’d moved so silently I hadn’t even heard his approach.

I nodded toward the room. “There’s at least twenty in there, which suggests to me you’ve been understating what actually goes on in this room.”

“I haven’t understated anything. The joint feedings are dangerous. I told you that.” He peered into the room. “I can’t see any ghosts.”

“If you’re not psychic, you wouldn’t.” I somewhat reluctantly pulled away from the comfort of Azriel’s support. “Did any of our victims use this room?”

His gaze met mine. “Yes.”

“All of them?”