Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

“Much, much better,” she said, relief briefly lifting the tiredness in her voice. “The sunnier room has done wonders to stabilize his internal temperature, and though he’s not yet awake, we’re getting more gruel into him and he no longer looks so gaunt.”

Thank god, I thought, and briefly closed my eyes against the sting of tears. “Any idea when he’s likely to wake up?”

“No. His body still appears to be adjusting to the presence of the fire elemental. I doubt he’ll wake until the merging is finished.”

And until he did, we wouldn’t know what the end result of that merging was. It was a very real possibility that Tao might not even know us once he woke up. It just depended which nature was stronger—the werewolf or the elemental.

“Ring me the minute anything happens,” I said. “And in the meantime, you and Mirri be careful.”

“Oh, trust me, if we were any more cautious, we’d be dangerous.”

I laughed softly. “Give Tao a kiss for me.”

“I’ll give Mirri one for you, too,” she said, somewhat primly.

“You’ll use any excuse to kiss that girl of yours,” I said, amused. “So give her two. Might as well make it worthwhile.”

She laughed again, but the sound died a little too quickly. “You need to be careful, particularly tomorrow night.”

Unease prickled across my skin. “More omens of trouble?”

“You, or someone near you. I can’t define it more than that, so just keep an eye out, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good. Keep in contact, Ris, or I’ll be calling in the cavalry.”

Meaning Aunt Riley and Uncle Rhoan—two people I did not want involved right now. Mainly because they’d lock me up, throw away the key, and attempt to investigate this whole mess themselves—and that would only end up with them getting hurt. Because no matter how good the pair of them were, this was far beyond their experience and capabilities. Hell, it was beyond mine, but at least I could see the reapers and walk the gray fields.

I shoved the phone away and looked at the time. It was six thirty—time to get moving if I was going to make my appointment with Jak.

I studied the still silent Azriel and frowned. “Are you okay?”

He turned, his expression carefully neutral but his body language hinting at tension. “Of course. How will you get to this café without your bike?”

“I’ll catch a cab.” I tilted my head slightly, continuing to watch him through slightly narrowed eyes. “You’ve retreated.”

“I do what I am here to do. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Which no doubt was a direct result of what I’d said. Or rather, what I hadn’t said—that I wanted him. Though why he wanted it voiced when our chi connection gave him all manner of insight into my thoughts and emotions, I had no idea. But I could hardly complain about his retreat when it was a result of my own. “Then I’ll see you at Chrome.”

“You won’t see me,” he countered. “But I will be there.”

And with that he disappeared again. I grimaced and grabbed my purse, slinging it over my shoulder as I headed down to the lobby to catch a cab.

I arrived at Chrome a couple of minutes past seven. The place was packed even though it was Wednesday, the music pumping and the air rich with the warm scent of alcohol and humanity. I squeezed my way toward the long chrome bar that ran the length of the rough brick wall to the left of the door and found Jak perched on one of the red-cushioned stools down the far end.

He turned as I approached, but his quick smile of greeting faded abruptly. “You look like shit,” he said, catching my hand to steady me as I perched on the stool next to him. “Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing a gallon of beer won’t fix.” I ignored the reminiscent side of me that wanted to enjoy his touch and gently pulled my fingers from his.

“Already done,” he said, sliding a tankard my way. “What happened?”

“Fell off my bike.” I shrugged and took a drink.

He watched me, eyes slightly narrowed, obviously suspecting there was more to the story than what I was saying. “And the Ducati?”

“Alive but dented. What did you want to see me about?”