Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“It’s possible, but you have to be very careful about who and what you form such a connection with. Once you open that door, it may never close.”

I shivered. “Could this guy be some form of incubi?”

“Again, it’s possible, but both incubi and succubi tend to take physical advantage of us on this plane. It is rare for them to act on the astral plane.”

“Rare means it’s still possible.”

“Yes, but from what you described, he was not sexually interacting with the woman, despite what the woman believed.”

“Is there any way to stop him?”

“On the astral plane? Not that I’m aware of. I would think you’d have to find him in the real world.”

And that wasn’t going to be easy. Nor was it my job. Leave it to Rhoan, I reminded myself, and set the cup back down. “Thanks again for your help, Adeline.”

“No problem.” She escorted me to the door, then added, “I’m here if you need anything else.”

I gave her a smile and headed down the street to my SUV. The Toyota wasn’t my preferred mode of transport—that honor went to the silver Ducati I’d bought when RYT’s, the café I co-owned and ran with Ilianna and Tao, had made its first profit. Unfortunately, the Ducati and I had a serious parting of ways thanks to a pack of demons, and she was still in the shop getting repaired. She was an old bike, and her parts were hard to get, so I was going to be without her for a while. Which was why I was seriously considering buying another one. I preferred the feel and freedom of a bike as opposed to the sedate safety of a vehicle like the SUV. Even Tao’s Ferrari couldn’t give the high of the bike—not on Melbourne streets, anyway.>“Reviving does not require the same output of energy.”

I wasn’t believing that for an instant, but I let it slide, and asked instead, “I remember Tao saying something about your inability to heal—what’s gone wrong? You had no problems healing me previously.”

“I know.” He hesitated. “And I’m not exactly sure why this has happened.”

Liar. “It hasn’t got anything to do with Amaya’s presence, has it?”

“No. Your sword will never harm you.”

I snorted softly. “Then what do you call her attempt to gain control over my body?”

“An attempt to save your life. As she saw it, she was the stronger spirit, and therefore the logical choice to control your flesh.”

And I’d agreed to that control—temporarily. I wouldn’t have survived the onslaught of the Rakshasa otherwise. But once I was safe, Amaya had refused to leave my flesh, and it took every ounce of strength I’d had left to get her back into the sword. “Does that mean every time I’m feeling low she’s going to make a takeover bid?”

“Only if she believes your life would be in danger if she did not. And remember, you did invite the invasion.”

Something I will not be doing again. Not unless I’m at death’s door.

Ten minutes later, I sensed Rhoan’s approach. Azriel rose and held out a hand. I twined my fingers through the warmth of his, and he pulled me up. We ended up standing so close that my breasts touched his chest and his breath teased my mouth with possibilities. God, it would take only the slightest movement on either of our parts for our lips to meet, but as my eyes searched his, I knew he wouldn’t do it. Not this time, not yet. He was still fighting to delay the inevitable.

“Nothing is inevitable.” There was a huskiness in his voice that suggested his control was closer to the knife edge than I’d thought. “And you have no idea of the risk we run—”

Behind us someone cleared his throat, and I jumped as if stung. Rhoan walked toward us, amusement crinkling the corners of his gray eyes.

“Riley will be pleased,” he said.

No, she won’t, I thought grumpily. Not when I was having zero luck in getting Azriel back into bed—a problem she’d never had when it came to men, human or otherwise. I waved a hand at Dorothy’s body. “I haven’t touched her, and only went close enough to the table to check whether her blood had been collected or not.”

His gaze slipped to the woman on the table, and in the blink of an eye, he became the guardian rather than the uncle. It was a chilling change.

“What?” I said warily, knowing there had to be something more behind his reaction than merely this particular death.

“I’ve seen this before.”

I briefly closed my eyes. Of course he had. Why I’d thought this was a one-off murder I had no idea. “How many have there been?”

“Three in three days.” His expression was as intense and cold as his voice. “He normally contacts the Directorate an hour after the death.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why would he do that?”