Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

I shivered, then glanced up at Jak. “Does your nose tell you anything?”

“Can’t smell much more than age and dirt.” He hesitated, then glanced past me to the right. “It smells a bit fresher down that direction, though.”

It did? I studied the lilac-lit shadows dubiously, then glanced to the left again. There wasn’t a chance I was heading down there, so that left only Jak’s choice.

With Amaya’s fire lighting the way, we crept forward. The tunnel continued to narrow, until the bits of rock and debris in the soil were tearing into my shoulders and the scent of blood stung the air.

If there were hellhounds ahead, it would call to them.

I swallowed heavily and tightened my grip on Amaya. Her hissing ramped up, and I didn’t know whether she was reacting to something I’d yet to see, or merely echoing my tension. I hoped it was the latter, but I had a horrible suspicion it was the former.

At least I was better off than Jak—even as awkwardly bent over as he was, he kept hitting his head against the roof.

“Fuck,” he said eventually, “I really think we need to turn back.”

“No. There’s something down the other end of this tunnel—” I yelped as a particularly sharp rock sliced into my arm.

“At this rate,” he muttered, “we’ll bleed to death before we ever reach an exit.”

“I think I’d rather bleed than chance whatever is at the other end.”

“It can’t be any worse—”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when I burst out of the tunnel like a cork being popped from a champagne bottle. I stumbled to gain my balance and took a quick look around, once again using Amaya for illumination. No hellhounds, nothing that appeared immediately dangerous—just two innocuous-looking stones that stood like petrified soldiers in the middle of a cavern. Which didn’t mean we were out of trouble, but wherever the hell we were, it had to be better than the tunnel. Jak all but exploded out of it three seconds later and came to a halt beside me.>Jak hunkered down beside me. “Anything?”

His voice was little more than a whisper. Maybe he felt the closeness of something, too. Azriel? Can you hear me? There was no response. Obviously, the magic was broader than he’d suspected. I shook my head and said, “You?”

“Just rats and rubbish.”

“Yeah.” I pulled the satchel around and gave him a couple of Ilianna’s little blue bottles. “Put these in your pocket. If there are hellhounds here, pop the cork and use the water. It’ll deter them.”

“So holy water really does work?”

I glanced at him. “You investigate paranormal events and happenings, and you don’t know this?”

“Reporters are natural skeptics. Until I see it, I don’t believe it.”

“You haven’t seen ley lines or the gates to heaven and hell, yet you believe in those.”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “No, I believe you believe. I’m still holding out for proof.”

I snorted softly. “You may regret that.”

“Yeah, I usually do. It never stops me, though.”

A truer sentence had never been uttered. I rose and padded forward, still drawing in the scents around us, trying to find some hint of the magic I sensed was here. It might not be related to the ley line, but something was definitely going on in this place.

We followed the loading bay to its end, then carefully went up the steps and headed to the left. Several doors lay ahead. I paused and glanced questioningly at Jak. He hesitated, then pointed to the one in the middle. It was as good as any, I supposed.

I reached for the handle and felt the shimmer of . . . not energy, something else. Something darker. I said, “Be ready. Whatever is going on, I think it’s happening on the other side of that door.”

He nodded, his expression a mix of excitement and wariness as he drew Ilianna’s knife. I hoped like hell he’d use it if we got into trouble.

I took a deep breath, released it slowly, then opened the door. The room behind it was deep and dark, and the air still. The sensation that had briefly caressed the door handle wasn’t evident in the room itself, yet my uneasiness increased, and I wasn’t sure why.

I took one step into the room. The flooring was wood rather than concrete, which seemed odd. I paused, waiting.