Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

We can’t keep preventing him from taking risks. It’s neither fair nor right when he’s holding up his end of the deal.

Doing what is fair and right did not stop you from diverting him last time.

That was a different situation because the threat was direct and real. Only it was Logan who the killer had been hunting, not Jak, as we’d presumed. Besides, we won’t be heading there unarmed.

Naturally. Amaya is always with you.

I didn’t mean Amaya. While I had no doubt Amaya could handle hellhounds, I wasn’t about to walk into a possible confrontation with them without some form of backup. In this case, that was holy water.

I do not think this a wise course of action.

It isn’t like I have many other choices. I wasn’t going in alone, and if I called Rhoan, he’d cut me out of the investigation completely. Which meant I went either with Jak or with Lucian—and Azriel sure as hell wouldn’t want me going anywhere with him. But your disapproval has been duly noted.

And ignored, he said, mental tones flat. As you wish.

He disappeared again—an action that was really starting to piss me off.

Jak cleared his throat. “Why do I have this feeling that there’s a whole conversation going on that I know nothing about?”

“Because there is.” I waved a hand at his beer. “Finish that. We have to go see a witch about some holy water.”

* * *

Ilianna looked up from the magazine she was reading when I walked through the door of our home, but she jumped to her feet when she saw who was behind me, her expression suddenly furious.

Shit, I thought, as she muttered something under her breath and flicked a hand. I swore again and spun around—just in time to see Jak hit the floor face-first, then go slithering back toward the door. Which was shut. He grunted, then began to curse as his body plastered itself to the metal.

“Ilianna!” I spun back round to face her. “Let him go!”

“No,” she spat back, her green eyes practically dripping with fury. “I did warn him never to darken our door again or there’d be consequences.”

“I invited him here. Let him go.”

“Why should I, after all the heartache he caused you? Damn it, Ris, he walked away unharmed and unregretful.”

“Maybe, but that was the past. Let it go.”

She snorted. “Is that what you’re doing? Letting it go and forgiving? I thought you had more sense than that.”

“Uh, hello?” Jak said, his voice a little hoarse. “Remember me? Still stuck to the door here, and it’s getting rather uncomfortable.”

I gave her a pointed look, and she sighed. “If you insist.”

She made another flicking motion, and there was a thunk as Jak was released from the door.

“So nice of you,” Jak muttered in a dark voice.

Ilianna snorted again. “Trust me, if it weren’t for the rule that states whatever harm I do to you will be returned to me threefold, I would have done a whole lot worse than try to force you out the door.”

He climbed slowly to his feet, then rotated his shoulders, as if trying to work out a kink. “Look, I can’t take back the past—”

“And you wouldn’t, even if you could,” she snapped.

“True, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have regrets—”

“The only thing you regret is not being able to unleash the second part of that damn story because you were under the threat of jail time—or worse—from her uncle.”

“Well, yeah, but—”