Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“So,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice conversational, although it wouldn’t have mattered if it wasn’t. These Aedh had about as much understanding of human emotion as a brick wall. “My posse has gained a new member—how lovely.”

“I am not new.” Though I’d been expecting a male, this voice was not only decidedly feminine, but surprisingly pleasant. “But I am here due to past actions, both yours and ours.”

“And do you have a name?”

She didn’t answer immediately. I had the odd impression she was considering the wisdom of doing so, as she no doubt knew I’d ask my father about her. But then, they wanted me in my father’s presence so they could capture him, so there was little harm in telling me.

It was a conclusion she must have agreed with. “I am called Malin.”

“And what do you want from me this time, Malin?”

“We want what we have always wanted—your cooperation.”

“And as I seem to be saying a lot lately, it isn’t like I have much of a choice to do anything else.” I considered the shimmer that was her presence. “How did you get past Azriel?”

“The distance the reaper kept between you was foolish.” There was a hint of smugness in her voice. The Aedh might be unfeeling creatures, but they were not above feeling superior. “He did not realize the danger he had placed you in until you were in our grasp.”

And he couldn’t rescue me, either. For some reason, earth inhibited a reaper’s ability to track souls, so being this deep underground meant that not only would Azriel be unable to find me, but our chi connection wouldn’t work.

If he’d been frantic when I’d been confronted by the hellhounds, I could well imagine his state right now. And he’d no doubt blame himself for my capture. But even if he had been close, he wouldn’t have been able to stop this kidnapping. They’d wanted me, and one solitary reaper could not have stood up to the number of Raziq currently in this place. No matter how fierce a fighter Azriel was, it would have been six against one, and the death I’d feared at the train station would have been real and devastating.

“Look, my father sensing your damn device was not my fault. I didn’t warn him. I did what you asked.”

“We realize this. The device placed within you was somewhat hurried in its creation. I plan to rectify this now.”

Horror crawled through me. “Rectifying” was surely just another word for pulling me apart to adjust the thing in my heart. I’d lived through that once. I wasn’t entirely sure I could do so a second time.

“My father is no fool, and he’s managed to remain one step ahead of you lot all along. He’ll expect changes to be made to the device.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Then what is the point of making the adjustment?”

“It will provide a nice piece of subterfuge. He’ll see what he expects to see, and will not go looking for any other changes.”

Any other changes? I was not liking the sound of that at all. My voice shook slightly as I said, “Meaning what?”

“Meaning I plan to interweave the strands of our beings.”

I could only stare at the flame-lit shadows in horror. Weave her being through mine? What the hell did that mean? How the hell was something like that even possible?

“When you can pull apart the atoms of a being as easily as a human might a tapestry, such a task is relatively simple.”

“But—” The rest of the sentence got stuck somewhere in the thickness of my throat. I swallowed heavily and tried again. “But what does it actually mean?”

“It means that not only will you carry the threads of your father’s heritage, you will also carry mine.”

Was “thread” the Aedh word for DNA? Is that what she was going to do—insert her DNA into mine? What the hell would that do to me? Make me more Aedh? Make me more like them?

“Yes,” she said. “And no.”

“Well, that fucking answers the question, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t react to the anger in the statement. No surprise there, I guess. “You will become more fully Aedh than you currently are, and your skills will therefore be stronger, but it will not affect your overall humanity.”

The way she said “humanity” made it all too clear that she meant “emotion,” and that was a huge relief. As much as I’d enjoyed being with Lucian, I didn’t want to be like him emotionally. Hell, the only thing he seemed passionate about—aside from sex—was revenge.

“But won’t my father sense such an insertion?” I was his daughter, after all, and he could trace my whereabouts thanks to that fact. Surely that same connection would inform him that something had been altered within me.