Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

They were not pleasant scents. Not to the sensitive nose of a wolf, anyway. Antiseptic mingled with the smells of the dying and the diseased, creating a veil of misery and pain that permeated not only the air but the very foundations of the building. The minute I became aware of them, they became a weight that pressed down on my chest and made it difficult to breathe.

I was in a goddamn hospital. God, I had to get out of here, had to move—

A hand caught mine. Warm, familiar, feminine hands. Ilianna, not Azriel.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You’re okay, Risa.”

“No, I’m not.” My voice cracked, and my throat felt raw. I opened my eyes. Ilianna smiled, but there was little disguising the worry in her expression. Not out of the woods yet, obviously. “I’m in a goddamn hospital, so how the hell can I be okay?”

“You’re alive, and that’s pretty amazing considering all you’ve been through.”

She poured a glass of water, then offered it to me, straw first. I tried to lift my head, but it suddenly seemed heavier than a thousand bricks. She tilted the cup a little more, and managed to get some moisture down my throat.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then asked, “Where’s everyone else?”

“Tao and I have been taking turns sitting by your side. He headed to the café about twenty minutes ago.”

I frowned. Even that hurt. “How long have I been out?”

“Five days—longer than Rhoan, in fact.”

Relief hit, so thick and fast tears stung my closed eyelids. “He’s alive?”

It was an inane question—if he was awake he was obviously alive—but I still wanted her to say the words.

“Not only alive, but home. He got the all clear yesterday.”

“Thank god.”

“Yeah. Riley had Quinn stationed in here so she could get constant updates on your condition while she was beside Rhoan.”

I glanced past her, for the first time seeing Uncle Quinn sitting in the corner. His warm smile crinkled the corners of his dark eyes. “Riley says to hurry up and get well, because she intends on knocking both your and Rhoan’s thick heads together.”

I laughed, which hurt, but at that particular moment I didn’t really care. I was alive, Rhoan was alive, and Taylor was dead.

“Now that I have seen for myself that you are awake, I shall leave.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m afraid I need to eat.”

I half smiled. “I’m sure there would have been more than a couple of nurses willing to offer their services.”

“Ah, but there is only one neck I desire.” He walked over to the bed and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “Do not lapse back into a coma. Riley would be most displeased.”

If he thought I was in any danger of lapsing, he wouldn’t be leaving. “Give her a kiss for me.”

“I will.”

He left, and my gaze returned to Ilianna. “So why was I out so long? Even if I’d lost a lot of blood, I shouldn’t have been out for five days.”

“It was the poison.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Poison? What poison?”

“From the hounds that attacked you on the astral plane,” Azriel replied, and suddenly appeared on the other side of the bed.

I very much suspected he’d been there the entire time, though I hadn’t actually sensed him. But there was more than one reaper in this place, so maybe I was suffering some sort of temporary sensory overload.

My gaze met his. Anger and relief vied for dominance in the turbulent depths of his blue eyes. “But they weren’t real. They were just a product of Taylor’s imag—”

“No, they weren’t,” he cut in. “And because these particular beasts were little more than plague bearers, the wounds became poisoned.”