Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“We had, but the note implies haste is required, and traveling the fields is faster than walking. It also taxes your strength less than you taking Aedh form.”

All of which was true. I hesitated, torn between desire and sanity, then shook my head. “Walking will clear my head. But you could go get the locker key for me. It’s on the dresser—”

“I am aware of its location.”

He winked out of existence. I went into a nearby café, grabbed a can of Coke and a couple of sausage rolls, then started walking. I didn’t actually feel like eating, but I had a suspicion that I was going to need the fuel over the next couple of hours.

And it was premonitions like that I could really do without.

Azriel reappeared as I was halfway through my second sausage roll, and handed me the key. “‘Tidy’ is not in your vocabulary when it comes to your jewelry, is it?”

“No, but I thought you said you knew where it was.”

“I knew the location. I did not know it was hidden under a multitude of twisted chains and charms. Do you not have a better method of filing them?”

“I do, but it involves walking into the closet. It’s easier to simply dump them on the dresser as I’m taking off my clothes.”

“That is not logical.”

“A rather common problem with me, I’m afraid.” I finished the sausage roll and dumped the paper in the nearest bin as we walked past it.

“True.” He was close enough that his shoulders occasionally brushed mine and, as I’d feared, every brief touch had longing coursing through me. But as much as I wanted to step away, I didn’t. I needed the comfort of those too brief moments, if only because the heat of contact went some way toward combating the chill of gathering fear.

It took nearly ten minutes to walk down to Southern Cross Station, which was a riot of noise and bodies thanks to the fact that peak time was approaching. We made our way through the crowd, but my footsteps slowed as I neared the locker room.

“Your father is not waiting within,” Azriel said.

Something I already knew because I couldn’t feel the power of his presence, but that didn’t erase the churning in my gut. “What about Razan?”

“There are a number of humans, but no one else.”

I took a deep breath that did little to bolster my flagging courage, then forced my feet forward. No one looked at us, let alone attacked us. I’m not sure why I’d expected otherwise—Azriel had already said there was no one dangerous here. Paranoia, it seemed, might be becoming a staple in my life.

I stopped in front of the locker and stared at it. Which wasn’t exactly getting us anywhere, but I just couldn’t force my hand up to shove the key into the lock.

Azriel gently took it and did it for me.

What we discovered was another square ward roughly the size of a tennis ball.>“James Larson,” I said, my gaze dropping to the simple envelope he held in his hand. It was the same sort of paper that my father had used in his previous notes, and my stomach began to twist even harder. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

He stopped and frowned. “How the hell do you know me?”

“You’ve delivered stuff to me before.”

“Huh,” he said. “Can’t remember it.”

Good. It meant Azriel had been successful and my father would not be aware that we’d found his courier.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Surely to god my father wasn’t tracking me that closely.

“Didn’t,” Larson said. “Not exactly. I was told to keep an eye on the building being renovated up the road, because you’d be there sooner or later. Missed you going in, but saw you exit.”

So my father knew about Lucian. Through reading my thoughts? Or had he been aware of Lucian way before I’d even entered the scene? It was an intriguing possibility, and one that raised all sorts of questions, especially when Lucian’s fierce need for revenge was factored in. Maybe it was a bit of a leap, but it was altogether possible that Lucian wasn’t after only the Raziq and the keys. Maybe he’d been using me to get to my father as well.

“How long have you been waiting for me to appear?”

“A few hours.” He shoved the letter at me. “This is yours.”

I took it rather warily, then glanced at Azriel. He rose in one swift movement and touched Larson lightly on the forehead. The shifter stilled and his face went slack. Azriel closed his eyes and I watched the passersby, checking that no one was getting too interested in just what Azriel was doing.