Darkness Rising (Dark Angels 2)

“It is a by-product of sex,” he said, “and can’t be helped.”

“I know.” I stepped over Forman’s body and tried not to look at him. Tried not to think that my ability to question him had been annihilated as thoroughly as his head. “But what does that have to do with finding me?”

Lucian glanced over his shoulder, his green eyes shining fiercely in the shadows of the tunnel. “I was on the phone with you when the accident happened, remember?”

“Sort of.” I frowned and retrieved my phone from my pocket. It informed me that the connection had been severed. No surprise there, given the man I’d been talking to was now walking several feet in front of me. “So you used my phone to track me?”

“No,” he said patiently, obviously realizing he was speaking to someone with a slightly addled brain. “I followed the connection sex has given us. I knew roughly where you were when the accident happened, so it was simply a matter of driving hell-for-leather down here and then walking around until I felt you.”

“So the connection isn’t a long-distance thing?”

“Yes and no.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I do get tantalizing fragments, but it’s really nothing clear or concise unless I’m close.”

Which was a whole lot more than what he’d admitted earlier and made me wonder if this was actually the truth, or whether it was yet another misdirection.

“How did you get down here?”

“Sewer entrance. There should be another one coming up.”

“And you didn’t spot anyone else down here?”

“No.” He glanced at me again. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” I paused. “It just seems odd. I mean, he was asking about the book, but surely if he were so desperate for it, he would have ensured that I was more secure.”

“There was magic in the room. I could feel it even when I was standing outside the door.”

“Yeah, I know. It prevented me from becoming Aedh—”

“That is some pretty serious magical mojo,” Lucian interrupted grimly. “He may have thought that was all he needed.”

Maybe. And yet, something still felt off to me. I couldn’t explain it—particularly given that Forman had been pretty convincing in his desire to get the information out of me. It was just an odd, niggling feeling—and I’d long learned to listen to my feelings, no matter how weird they might seem.

“How long have I been missing?”

“Not long. A couple of hours.” He shrugged. “I doubt anyone has even realized you’re gone yet.”

Azriel would have. He’d have felt it, even if—thanks to the magic barrier—he’d been incapable of doing anything about it.

As his name ran through my mind, I felt the heat of his presence surge across the foul-smelling darkness. Lucian stopped abruptly. “I think your reaper just arrived.”

“I think you might be right.” I paused beside him. “Azriel?”

He stepped out of the shadows, Valdis held by his left side, her blade flickering with blue fire. The flames spun through the darkness like brief flashes of lightning.

His stormy gaze ran from me to Lucian then back again, but all he said was, “Are you all right?”

“No, actually, I feel like shit and I smell like it, too. Right now I just want to get somewhere safe and take a bath.”

“I can take—”

“No,” Lucian said forcibly. “I will take her to my apartment. She’ll be safe—”

“I think it highly unlikely she would be safe with the likes of you,” Azriel commented, his tone even but his grip on Valdis seeming to tighten. The fire along her blade flared.

“And yet it was me who rescued her, not you, reaper.”

“Oh for God’s sake, enough with this macho bullshit!” I all but exploded. “I’ll fucking take care of myself, thank you very much.”