Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

“Azriel, we need—”

“No,” he repeated. “Do not make me force you to rest, Risa.”

“But Jak will be waiting—”

“I will visit Jak and alter his memories. You, for once, will do as you’re told.”

I half smiled. “Given that I’m in no fit state to argue, I’ll obey. But don’t expect such easy compliance next time.”

“Oh,” he said, his gaze coming to mine. Humor crinkled his lips and teased the corners of his eyes. “That is one thing I never expect when it comes to you.”

“You knew the task was dangerous when you took it on,” I said wryly. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. He turned on the shower taps, then slid his fingers down to my elbow. “Can you manage to shower yourself, or do you wish assistance?”

At any other time I would have voted for assistance, simply because it would have led to a whole lot more. But I didn’t even have the energy for anything resembling a sexual urge, let alone desire.

“I’ll be fine.” With my fingers pressed against the glass side of the shower, I stepped in cautiously and raised my face to the water. Its warmth ran down my body, washing away the grit, blood, and whatever else was sticky on my skin.

Azriel didn’t release me immediately, his grip still on my elbow, as if he expected me to fall down at any minute. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him. “Yes. And thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“For knowing when to do nothing more than hold me.”

“That,” he said softly, “will never be a problem.”

He reached out and gently ran his fingers up my chin to my lips. It hurt, even though his touch was light. He dropped his hand, his fingers suddenly clenched. “I will order your meal and then go take care of Jak. Call if you need me.”

I nodded, my skin still aching from his touch. Once he’d left, I simply stood there, letting the heat of the water chase the chill from my flesh and wishing it could do the same to the odd knot of coldness deep inside of me.

After what seemed like ages, I sighed and washed myself properly, then grabbed a towel and stepped out of the shower. One look in the mirror revealed the reason why Azriel’s soft touch had hurt so much. Half my face was bruised, and there were similar blotches all over my body. It was as if in taking me apart so brutally, the Raziq had damaged the very fabric of me. And it made the bruises I’d received when I’d been knocked off my bike seem mild in comparison.

My bike… damn, in all the madness I’d forgotten about her. And while a bent and busted Ducati sat pretty low on the scale of immediate problems, it was at least something that had a clear path of action.

Unlike everything else in my goddamn life at the moment.

I swung around and went in search of my phone, then remembered I’d left it in the rear of the rental car. Which was unlocked, with the keys sitting inside. If it hadn’t been stolen, it would be a goddamn miracle.

I scanned the room, found the hotel’s phone, and rang Lonny to see what the damage was.

“Well, it ain’t pretty.” His voice held even more of a drawl than usual, and that probably meant bad news. “We can fix her, but it’s going to cost. Spare parts for that model are a bitch to find.”

“I don’t care what it takes. Fix her.”

He grunted. “Figured you’d say that, so I’ve already started ringing my sources. You want an estimate or shall I just go ahead?”

“Just do it.” Money wasn’t a problem, and even if it had been, I wouldn’t have cared. She was the first thing I’d ever purchased with my own money, and I’d be damned if I let her go. Besides, she was a reminder of the sane, normal life I wanted—a life that seemed to be slipping further and further away from me. “Thanks, Lonny.”

“I’ll be in contact if we have a problem,” he said, then hung up.

I rang Ilianna next, getting an update on Tao—who was still improving but not yet conscious—and asking her to alter the power of her wards so that Azriel could get into our apartment.

The doorbell rang as I said good-bye to her. Figuring it was probably the meal Azriel said he’d order, I shouted, “Hang on a minute,” then quickly threw on a shirt and jeans. I grabbed some of the change I’d dumped onto the bedside table the night before and walked across the room to open the door.

“Just put it—” The words froze in my throat.