Darkness Unbound (Dark Angels 1)

I forced myself up onto my hands and knees. The room spun around me and my stomach leapt up my throat. I swallowed the bitter taste and closed my eyes, pushing the pain and the sickness away. I couldn’t acknowledge it—couldn’t deal with it—until I was out of here.

After a few more minutes, I crawled to the edge of my safe circle and studied the door. The catch was old and heavy, and looked like something you’d find in a medieval castle rather than anything made in recent—or not so recent—years. And there was definitely no lock.

Which meant I could get out—if I could get past the glass.

I gently placed my hand on the nearest peaks. The jagged edges sat against my palm, ready to pierce it should I exert the slightest bit of pressure. I looked across the width of it. Eight feet had never seemed so far.

But I really didn’t have much in the way of options. It was either walk across this barrier or take another round of Aedh questioning. At least with the first option, it was only my feet that would be cut up.

And I could do something about that.

I sat back on my heels and undid my jeans, slipping them down my hips before shifting onto my butt and pulling them off my legs. Tearing them in half wasn’t so easy—not when my whole body felt as if it had been torn apart. Hell, right now I wasn’t entirely sure that parts of me weren’t going to start unraveling.

Eventually the seams gave way, tearing in half along the crotch. I carefully wrapped each foot in one jean leg, tucking in the ends to stop them unraveling as I walked.

I grabbed my phone, then stood and eyed the expanse of embedded, broken glass between me and that door. There was no obvious path where the glass wasn’t quite as sharp.

I breathed deep, my nostrils flaring and filling my lungs with the scent of my own fear, then gingerly stepped onto the glass. The jeans helped a little, as long as I didn’t put too much weight on my feet for too long. I took another quick step, then another, concentrating on that door and the freedom it represented. The metallic tang of blood began to taint the air. Sweat trickled down my hairline, and my breathing became short and sharp. The jeans grew heavier and my feet felt like they were on fire. I kept my gaze on my target, and punched the bolt across when I was near enough, then thrust the door open.

I was dead meat if there were guards. But I knew that, and I didn’t care. I just had to get off the glass.

Thankfully, there were no guards.

I caught the door before it could slam back against the wall, then leaned a shoulder against the brickwork, hopping gently from one foot to the other, trying to ease the pain. It didn’t help much.

But my head felt clearer, and the aching buzz that had become such an underlying presence in my mind had gone. Still, I didn’t reach for the Aedh. Not only because I was so weak, but because they might just sense the surge of power. Even us half-breeds could sense the presence of another Aedh, and I had no doubt that a full blood would have sharper senses than us. Besides, Lucian had commented that I felt full Aedh even in human form, which might just mean that if anyone did notice me out here, they’d maybe dismiss me as one of their brethren.

Maybe.

I unwound the bloody remnants of my jeans and tossed them back into the cell. If I was caught and put back, maybe I could use them again. If they didn’t take them away, and if I managed to survive another bout of questioning, that was.

I shut the door, then looked around. The corridor was long and filled with shadows. Though the air was rich with the earth and humus, the corridor itself was lined with red bricks that looked to have seen more than a few hundred years of wear and tear. It made me wonder if it had been a part of the sewerage system that had serviced Melbourne from settlement to the twenty-first century. If it was, then there had to be a way out—service entry points or whatever the hell they were called. The system might not be in official use, but there’d been recent newspaper reports of the “mousers” who spent every available free hour down here, and there were undoubtedly a ton of homeless folk who’d made themselves at home, too.

I padded forward. The cold bricks soothed the fire in my feet, but I had no doubt I was leaving bloody footprints behind. The taint of it curled through the air.

The silence was unnerving. I couldn’t sense anyone nearby, but there were at least two Aedh here somewhere, and undoubtedly some form of human guards as well. After all, the Aedh who’d attacked me at the restaurant hadn’t come alone.

So where was everybody?

There had to be guards here. Even the youngest Aedh couldn’t be that oblivious to the instinct of survival—and neither of the two who’d questioned me had felt young. Surely it would make sense to post one or two of their servants at strategic points along the corridor.

Not that I was complaining about the oversight, but I couldn’t quite believe that luck was going my way, either. There would be checkpoints somewhere, and if they weren’t staffed by humans, then they would be some kind of physical or magical barriers. I had to hope for the former, because I was all but useless against the latter.

I walked on, keeping to the shadows and trailing one hand against the coolness of the bricks, more to keep my still-quivering limbs steady than from any actual need to maintain something solid by my side.

The bricks began to curve gently to the left—something I sensed more than felt. Sound began to invade the rich, damp air—two men talking over what sounded like some sort of sports commentary.

I’d found my guards.

I edged closer to the wall and slowed even further. As the bricks continued to curve away, light began to shimmer up ahead. It was a stark, almost fierce white that pooled brightness across the floor and walls. The minute I tried to cross it, they’d see me.

“Azriel, where the hell are you?” I murmured.

He didn’t pop into existence—which was typical, I thought sourly. The one time in my life I would actually welcome the arrival of a reaper was the one time I couldn’t find one.

As I crept closer to the two men, it became obvious they were watching football. Which meant it was either Friday evening and I’d lost a whole lot of time, or they were watching a replay.

I drew in the air, sorting through the scents, trying to discover just what I was dealing with. They smelled human, but the last couple of days had proven I couldn’t exactly rely on my olfactory sense when it came to these people.