Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

He’d made no secret of his desire for revenge, and definitely no secret of the fact that he would do anything—use anyone—to get it. Having a geas placed on me might be nothing more than his way of ensuring a continuing supply of the information he needed to hunt down the Raziq, especially since the only time he could fully read my mind was when we had sex.

Or was I simply trying to excuse the behavior of someone I liked, geas or not?

There was no easy answer to that one—or at least not one I wanted to confront right now—so I pulled the sleeve over the tattoo and said, “Holy water?”

“Ah, yes.”

Azriel stepped to one side as Ilianna returned to her cupboard. She came back a few minutes later carrying a purple satchel and a knife. “There’s six bottles in here. If you need any more than that, you get the hell out of there.”

“And the knife?”

“That,” she said grimly, “is for Jak. And no, I’m not going to stab him, as much as I might want to.”

I grinned, slung the satchel over my shoulder, and led the way back to the kitchen. Azriel made himself scarce again, although the heat that caressed my spine suggested he hadn’t gone far.

Ilianna handed Jak the sheathed knife and said, “This is for you, though you don’t deserve it.”

He took the knife tentatively. “I’m not much into weapons, you know—”

“If you’re tackling hellhounds, you’d better be,” she retorted. “And it’s not just a knife—it’s a blessed knife. It’ll work when other weapons don’t, so use it. I don’t want Risa hurt protecting your useless ass.”

“Thanks for the concern,” he muttered.

I restrained my smile and glanced at Ilianna. “Are you and Mirri still having dinner with your parents tonight?”

Mirri was Ilianna’s girlfriend, though like many mares she was bisexual rather than just a lesbian like Ilianna. She was also very open about her sexuality, whereas Ilianna kept hers a closely guarded secret—at least where her parents were concerned. She and Mirri had been in a steady relationship for a while now, but it was only very recently that Ilianna had acceded to Mirri’s requests to meet her parents—as friends, nothing more.

She grimaced. “Yes. And Carwyn will be there.”

Carwyn was the stallion her parents were trying to set her up with. According to Mirri, he was rather hot—in bed and out—but given Ilianna’s preferences, she was either going to have to be honest with her parents or get stuck in a situation that could only end badly.

“Oh,” I said, well aware that Jak was rather avidly listening in. Once a newshound, always a newshound. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need it.” She grimaced. “Just make sure you ring me if you find magic.”

I nodded, then picked up my sandwiches and headed out. Jak followed so close on my heels that his breath washed the back of my neck. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.

“You can drive,” I said, as the front door slammed behind us.

“Color me shocked,” he said. “Here I was thinking you didn’t trust me to keep my hands to myself when you were in the same vehicle as me.”

“I don’t. Which is why you’re driving.”

He snorted softly, but opened the passenger door of his red Honda Accord, ushering me in before running around to the driver’s side.

It didn’t take us long to get to West Street. We cruised slowly past the warehouse, then turned into Reeves Street. Halfway down the block, we stopped and I climbed out of the car, then leaned against it, my gaze sweeping the building. It was one of those old two-story, redbrick places that had become so popular with inner-city renovators. The iron roof was rusted and covered in bird shit, and the regularly spaced windows were small and protected by bars as rusted as the roof. But considering its age, it still seemed surprisingly solid. Like many of the other buildings in the area, it had walls littered with graffiti and tags, and rubbish lay in drifting piles along its length. It looked and felt abandoned.

Only it wasn’t.

Though there was no sign of guards or movement, there was an odd, almost watchful stillness about the place. In fact, the whole area was unnervingly quiet. Even the sound of traffic traveling along nearby Smith Street seemed muted.

Azriel reappeared, but the heat of his presence did little to chase the growing chill from my body. “I can sense no human life inside.”

My gaze swept the building again. It was waiting. Ready. Trepidation shivered through me, and I rubbed my arms. “What about unlife? Or hellhound-type life?”

“There is nothing in there other than vermin.”

“So why does it feel like a predator is about to pounce?”