Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

Air began to roll past me like waves receding from a distant shore.

It meant Taylor was here, somewhere.

I flexed invisible fingers, scanning the grayness, waiting for him to appear. I had no doubt that he would. He was the type to want to taunt me before he got down to the business of killing me.

Or at least, trying to.

Noise began to stir the fog—a soft, steady sound, like the rhythm of a heart at rest. It grew in tempo, getting louder and louder, until the fog churned with the force of it and the fibers of my being vibrated in violent harmony.

Game, Amaya said. Play not.

She was right. This wasn’t some weird storm on the astral plane. This was little more than foreplay, designed for fear rather than pleasure.

And it was certainly something I didn’t have to stick around for if he had no intention of appearing.

I closed my eyes and imagined a beach, sunshine, and a calm, clear day. There was a brief sensation of movement and, when I opened my eyes, I was standing on the edge of an ocean as stormy as Azriel’s eyes. I had no idea which ocean and, in the end, it didn’t really matter.

Stop hiding and show yourself, Taylor, I said, my gaze sweeping the deserted sands around me.

He appeared at the far end of the beach, a thin form who cast a shadow that devoured the distance between us, stealing the heat in the air and the warmth from the sand.

Goose bumps ran across nonexistent skin, but I didn’t say anything.

Welcome to your doom, huntress. His soft voice carried as easily as thunder.

If that is my fate, then so be it. My voice was even. But you should know that fate and I are well acquainted, and I don’t think she has plans to release me from her grip just yet.

His shadow drew closer, though he hadn’t physically moved. I resisted the urge to step back. Resisted the desire to call Amaya into hand and swat at the creeping darkness near my toes.

Fate is a fickle friend, huntress. I would not be so sure about her intents if I were you.

Ah, but that’s the benefit of being a strong clairvoyant—surety of the future. Which was something more than a white lie when it came to my talents, but he wasn’t to know that. Death will find me sooner than it should, but it will not be via your hands.

His shadow inched over my toes. It felt like oil, slick and dangerous, and my skin crawled at the sensation.

Kill, Amaya screamed. Touch you not.

Not yet. He was too far away. Too watchful.

I flexed my fingers, but otherwise didn’t react as his slimy darkness began to twist itself around my ankles. It was nothing but shadows. Nothing to fear, despite appearances.

Taylor laughed. The sound grated across the stillness around us. I see you will not be rushed into foolish action, huntress. I’m glad.

Making you happy is not my intent, I replied, voice still despite the darkness creeping farther up my legs. Why don’t you give this game up, Taylor, and just turn yourself in?

And what? Avail myself of the Directorate’s mercy? We both know there is no such thing for someone like me. No, I prefer to play the game my way. At least then I am surer of a favorable result.

Then let the game begin, I said, and called Amaya.

She appeared in a blaze of furious lilac fire, eager to taste flesh, be it real or astral. I swung her across my legs, severing the darkness that clung to me. Her flames dripped onto Taylor’s long shadow and raced back down its length, but they never reached his body, stopping abruptly several feet away.

Come, huntress, he said, his tone mocking. You can do better than that.

All I intended was to release your leash, I said. This is your game, Taylor, not mine. I think the first shot should be yours.

As you wish, he said, then disappeared.

I’d half hoped he would make an all-out frontal assault, but it was obvious the bastard was going to make this battle long and slow. Which didn’t mean I had to play it that way.