Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“Your haste will kill us all,” he said, and pointed at my legs.

Or rather, the trip wire that waited only inches away from my shins.

It felt like someone had tipped a bucket of ice water down my back. That one moment of panic reaction could have killed us all.

Think, I reminded myself fiercely. Don’t react blindly. That’s what he wants.

And while I doubted he’d actually want us dead just yet, I was betting he wouldn’t have minded having Markel, at least, incapacitated.

“Follow me—carefully,” Markel instructed.

He stepped over the trip wire and proceeded forward with caution. I did the same, practically stepping on his heels.

“Trigger plates,” he said a few seconds later, and pointed at the tiles directly ahead.

I peered around him. “How can you tell?” They looked exactly the same to me as all the other tiles.

“The edge is fractionally raised. The trap waits above.”

I glanced up. The trap was four rows of long, wickedly pointed metal stakes. They might not kill a vampire—only wooden stakes to the heart or decapitation could really do that—but they would still make a goddamn mess. “This is no seat-of-the-pants trap. He’s been planning this for some time.”

“From the moment you clashed on the astral plane, I would suggest.”

He stepped over the tiles, then offered me his hand. I accepted it gratefully. Four rows of tiles might not be much of a leap, but if I became unbalanced and fell backward into one, I’d be dead. Those stakes would kill me.

We continued moving forward carefully, but there were no more traps and we were soon by Rhoan’s side. Markel motioned me to remain where I was and knelt beside Rhoan. I flexed my fingers, fighting the urge to drop down, press my hands against his pale, still body, and feel the life within him even though I could clearly see he was breathing.

It seemed to take forever for Markel to pat Rhoan down, but eventually he glanced up and gave me a nod.

I dropped down beside Rhoan and touched a hand to his cheek. It was clammy and cold, and though he was definitely breathing, it was becoming labored. That could only mean the hemlock was beginning to fully kick in.

I glanced up. Markel regarded me steadily. It was oddly unnerving. “If we don’t get him to hospital soon, he’ll die.”

He must not die tonight, Azriel said. No reaper waits.

And that meant he’d be one of the lost ones if we couldn’t save him. I closed my eyes and fought the rush of panic. It wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t.

I reached across his body and gripped Markel’s arm. “Get him to that ambulance,” I said fiercely. “Make sure they know he’s been injected with hemlock. And be careful, because I wouldn’t put it past Taylor to have some sort of backup attack on the off chance I did decide to save Rhoan’s life rather than protect myself.”

Markel’s sudden smile was fierce. “Oh, he’s very welcome to try an attack. It would be a pleasant way to stretch the kinks from my body after the inactivity of following you via the astral plane.”

I found myself hoping Taylor wasn’t that stupid, if only because I didn’t want my uncle caught in the cross fire between Taylor and Markel.

He scooped Rhoan into his arms, then rose. “Tread carefully on the plane, Risa Jones. Hunter will not be pleased if your life was ended before her plans have come to fruition.”

“Like I really care,” I retorted, then saw the amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You have a warped sense of humor, vampire.”

“To remain sane in my profession, it pays to,” he commented, then headed out.

I watched him leave, and prayed like hell that Rhoan would be okay. Then I took a deep breath, gathered the fading strands of my courage, and lay down.

Three minutes later I entered the astral plane alone.

Chapter 14

There was nothing to be seen except gray. There were no vague outlines of buildings, nothing to hint that anything existed beyond the fog. The astral world was still and quiet, and an odd sense of peace enveloped me.

It didn’t last too long.