Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“And it still feels like the magic you sensed when we found Dorothy?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s not there?” I knew he wasn’t, because otherwise Azriel would have mentioned it, but I still had to ask. After all, we were dealing with a man who was apparently capable not only of leaving his body to attack his foe, but also of transporting spells and god only knows what other type of magic. And Azriel could be stopped by magic, though I doubted our killer would have that sort of knowledge, let alone have ever come across someone like our Mijai before now.

“No, he is not. The magic resonates from the blue container up ahead.” He came to a halt. “It prevents me from reading what lies within it.”

“So much for me thinking our killer didn’t have the necessary knowledge to stop you.” I stopped beside him. It was tempting to lean against him and let the warmth and strength of him chase away the worst of the aches—if only for a moment—but I resisted. Give him what he wants, I reminded myself fiercely. Even if it was the last thing in this world that I wanted.

“It is not designed specifically against me. It appears more tuned to stopping anyone sensing what lies inside.”

I frowned. “Does it just prevent psychic sensing?”

“No, it’s olfactory as well.” He glanced at me, his expression blank but his blue eyes angry. “I fear someone lies dead inside, even if I cannot immediately feel it.”

Meaning that once again our killer had not kept his word. But then, had I really expected him to?

I flexed my fingers, then stepped forward and grabbed the container’s latch. It was heavy, rusted, and it took a lot of strength to wrench it open. When I did, it opened with such force that the door slammed against the side of the next container. The sound echoed across the hushed stillness, a deeply resonant noise that was almost a death knell.

That’s what waited in the container.

And it wasn’t fresh.

I tried breathing through my mouth, but it didn’t really help. The smell of rotting flesh had permeated the air, and it wrapped around me like a shroud, clogging every breath and clinging to my skin.

I ignored the churning in my gut and forced my feet forward. Dani lay on wooden boards that spanned two forty-four-gallon drums. Her arms hung limply from her sides, her fingertips stained with the dried remnants of blood. The tendons in her calves had been cut, the wounds no longer clean but flyblown. Bile rose up my throat. I swallowed heavily and stopped beside her. She’d also been staked, but, like Dorothy, had apparently died without pain, without fear. The expression forever frozen on her face was peaceful. Accepting.

My gaze rose higher. She also bore the K-shaped burn on her forehead, but unlike the other wounds on her body, there was no fly infestation. Maybe even they found the mark distasteful.

“Goddamn it!” I all but exploded. “Why is he doing this? Why tell us we can save her when he’s already killed her?”

“Did not Rhoan say he taunted the Directorate? Perhaps this is just more of the same.”

“But it’s pointless! What the hell does he gain by any of this?”

Azriel shrugged. “It is often hard to discern the motives of those who derive pleasure from the kill.”

I glanced sharply at him. “You think he does this for fun?”

“No, I think he truly believes that this”—he indicated Dani—“is his calling. But it would seem he gains immense satisfaction from being the puppet master. After all, it is not everyone who can give the Directorate—and now you—so many clues and yet successfully avoid their grasp.”

“If he thinks they’ll let that continue unchecked, he doesn’t know the Directorate very well.”

“And therein might be your answer.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, cut off his pleasure.”

I had a sudden vision of nuts being hacked off, though that obviously wasn’t what Azriel meant.

“No,” he agreed, amusement briefly tugging at his lips. “I mean, perhaps it would be better not to chase.”

“But that would mean letting people die.”

“They die anyway. You were never meant to save any of these women.”

“I guess.” I let my gaze sweep Dani one more time, then spun on my heel and walked out.