Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

“Your helmet shattered when you hit the pole, and there are several pieces embedded in your head.”

Well, that would certainly explain the pain in my head and the blood on my cheek. “So just take them out and then remove the helmet. There’s no need to try to cut it off—”

“I suspect moving the shards will cause greater bleeding. Valdis will obliterate the shards and heal the wound at the same time.” He paused, and his gaze met mine. There was something unyielding in his eyes, almost as if he were drawing a line in the sand. “You said you trusted me.”

I licked my lips. “I do, but using Valdis to dig them out seems a little like using a jackhammer to hit home a nail.”

“Valdis would never harm you. She can’t.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. “Why not?”

His expression became closed again. “Do you trust me?”

That was a question I’d answered more than once. He was connected to me on a chi level—and far more strongly than he was admitting—and he knew just how much I did trust him, even if the occasional doubt raised its ugly head. I motioned for him to proceed.

Valdis’s fire was a strange green-gold as he brought her close. Droplets of fire splattered across my skin, hissing as they touched, yet not hurting. Warmth flushed upward from my neck and face, until even the ends of my hair felt like they were on fire. There was a brief retort, and a bitter smell—which was a mix of melting fiberglass and burning carbon fiber—filled the air.

Then it was gone, and with it the stabbing pain in the side of my head.

Azriel sheathed Valdis, then slowly—carefully—removed the helmet. The shards digging into my skull might have been eliminated, but it still hurt like shit. I blinked back tears, and gripped the chair arms so damn tightly that my fingernails tore into the leather.

“You were extremely lucky,” Azriel said, and held the helmet so I could see it.

The whole left side was broken, much of it dented inward toward what was now a jagged and somewhat melted hole in the center. It was destroyed—but it had undoubtedly saved my life.

My gaze rose and met Azriel’s. The anger that burned in the mismatched blue depths just about snatched my breath away. “The Ania could have killed me.”

“By mistake, yes, but if they’d actually wanted to kill you, they could have easily done so by now. And remember, it wasn’t so much an attack in the café as an attempt to capture you.” He tossed the helmet aside. It clattered against the old stones and rolled limply into the shadows. “It would also appear that changing your hair made little difference. They obviously know more about your habits than I presumed.”

I didn’t have the energy to say “I told you so,” and simply leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. While the pain in my head had all but gone, the rest of me felt more than a little pulverized. But I guess feeling that way was better than actually being so, and that had very nearly been the reality.

“I can’t step away from everything and go into hiding, Azriel,” I said, after a moment. “That won’t find the Rakshasa and it certainly won’t find us the keys.”

“No, but staying away from the things they are aware of—like your bike, the café, and your apartment—would be a good start until we figure out a way to stop these attacks.”

I opened my eyes again. “Do you really think we can stop them? I don’t.”

“We can stop them.” He said it firmly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as me. Which was an odd thought, since he generally saw these things in black-and-white—will or won’t. “But until we do, we should do all that we can to avoid them.”

“I won’t stop visiting Tao. I can’t.” Ilianna might send me regular updates, but that wasn’t the same as being there.

He grimaced. “That could be dangerous, not just to you but to Ilianna and Tao.”

Fear slithered through me. “The Ania couldn’t mount an attack inside the Brindle. Her magic wouldn’t let them.”

“The Ania couldn’t, no, but the Raziq might well attempt it if these ambushes keep failing.”

And the witches had already warned us that the Brindle had no defenses against the Raziq. “That’s only if they are the ones behind them.”

“They are. I felt their touch behind the Ania this time.”

Well, fuck. I swiped angrily at the blood still dribbling down my cheek. Valdis might have healed the worst head wound when she melted the helmet shards, but there were obviously several smaller ones if the blood was anything to go by. “I guess this means I’m staying at the Langham again—”

“Not the Langham,” he cut in. “You’ve stayed there before, so it would be wise not to risk it.”

I grimaced. Being hunted by minor demons wasn’t half as annoying as missing out on staying at my favorite five-star hotel.

Azriel wrapped his hand around mine and gently pulled me to my feet. “You, Risa Jones,” he said softly, “have a strange way of looking at things.”