Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

I pushed backward, out from underneath the last of the creatures, then staggered to my feet. I was barely upright when the creatures flung themselves at me. But even as I backed away, slashing left and right with the sword, the strangeness of their behavior had me frowning. If they were intending to attack, why wait until I was on my feet to do so? And why, when there were three of them, did they not simply attack en masse rather than one at a time?

It made no sense.

Not the way these creatures were behaving, and certainly not the fact they were even here. If the Raziq were behind this, why didn’t they come themselves? Why risk sending these creatures when the three of us could never best a full complement of Aedh, no matter what Lucian and Azriel might think?

Claws lashed at me. I jumped back, hissing in pain as the movement jarred my ribs, but this time I wasn’t quick enough to get out of the creature’s way and its claws caught my jacket, tearing it to ribbons. But again, it didn’t slice into flesh.

They definitely weren’t trying to kill me. Despite the murderous light in their eyes and the desperate hunger that filled the air, something—or someone—had leashed them.

And there could be only one reason. Someone other than the Raziq, the reapers, and the vampire council was after the keys.

Even as the thought crossed my mind, energy caressed the room. An energy that was dark, ungodly, and bitter. My skin crawled in response, and Amaya’s hissing became so fierce it just about shattered my eardrums.

It wasn’t the energy of the Raziq. It was something else. Something that could make a demon sword burn with anticipation.

And she was burning. The black blade had given way to fierce purple flames that licked out across the shadows, burning everything she touched—be it flesh or furniture.

In the light of her fire, I saw the figure. It was man-shaped and indistinct, and it moved with speed, half searching under tables and in the deeper shadows.

It wasn’t one of the creatures, and it was looking for the ax.

“No!” I yelled, and swung Amaya as hard as I could, battering away the nearest creature, forcing it backward with the force of the blow even as the black blade sliced it apart. Blood spewed, spraying across my face and body, covering me in its putrid, sticky stench, but I didn’t care, diving toward the shadow in a desperate attempt to stop it.

Then the last of the three creatures who’d tumbled down with me hit my legs, dragging me down. My chin hit the edge of a chair and for a moment I saw stars. I cursed, kicking at the thing holding me. Bone cracked and more blood spurted, its scent stinging the air. The creature held on, screaming in fury and pain, but not attacking.

Ahead, the indistinct form bent and reached for something. The ax. I twisted and wildly swung Amaya at the thing holding me in place. The blade bit through the creature’s neck and my legs, severing the creature’s head but not even scratching me as it passed through my flesh.

Even headless, the fucking thing wouldn’t let go.

And then it was too late, because the dark, bitter energy fell abruptly away, and the shadowy figure was gone.

As was the ax.

Chapter Thirteen

A DOZEN DIFFERENT SWEAR WORDS RACED through my mind, but I didn’t bother saying them. I swung Amaya again, this time slicing away the arms that still held me so tightly. As the limbs fell away from the creature’s body, I kicked it off me and staggered to my feet. Someone hit the ground behind me and I swung around, Amaya raised. It was Azriel. He was covered not only in the stinking blood of the creatures, but in his own. Wounds crisscrossed his stomach and right arm, and blood seeped down the fingers that gripped Valdis.

His gaze swept me, then he said, “The ax?”

“Gone. And it wasn’t the Raziq.”

He swore—at least I think he swore because it wasn’t any language I understood—and thrust a hand through his damp hair. “I was not aware that there was anyone else after the keys.”

“That makes two of us,” I muttered, and glanced up as something moved on the floor above us.

Lucian appeared, leaning over the side, his face bruised, clothes torn, but a fierce light in his eyes. “Everyone okay?”

“Yeah, but the ax is gone.”

He leapt over the railing, landing with grace and little noise. “The Raziq, I gather?”

I shook my head. “Not unless the Raziq use blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” He stopped to one side of Azriel, smelling of sweat and blood and anger barely leashed. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I felt it, and because I saw the man involved.”

“You saw him?” Azriel said quickly, then his gaze narrowed. “No. You only saw an indistinct shape.”