Darkness Devours (Dark Angels 3)

“The keys. If you do not find this killer, then the keys will slip away from our grasp regardless.”

Fear slithered through the confusion. “And, why, exactly, would you think that?”

He smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about it. “Because the council recently took a vote on your situation. The decision was deadlocked, three for killing, three against, three undecided.”

My gaze swept them. These three. I swallowed heavily.

“And?”

“And,” he said flatly, “you have precisely seventy-two hours to prove your worth as a hunter to us, or an execution order will be issued.”

Chapter 7

“Touch her, and you die,” Azriel said, his voice as flat as the councillor’s, but somehow far more deadly.

The councillor merely smiled. “I know enough about reapers to understand that would not be a wise choice on your part.”

“I am not strictly a reaper, and I am not bound by all their rules.”

The councillor raised an eyebrow and looked somewhat disbelieving, but Hunter touched his hand, then said, “Killing Odale will only sway opinion further against you. After all, you are apparently the one person who can find these keys—and there is some belief among the council that it would be better to leave the keys lost than to have anyone else gain them.”

An opinion I actually agreed with, except for the fact that in their version, it meant me dying. That bit I wasn’t so keen on.

“I thought you were on my side.”

“Oh, I am.” She shrugged lightly. “I believe it would be to our benefit to keep you alive and find those keys, but votes ebb and flow, as does power. Right now—thanks to the fear and uncertainty these keys have raised—the tide of opinion has swung many against my belief of your usefulness. You need to prove otherwise.”

Or die. Fantastic options, I had to say. “Three days is hardly long enough. I mean, what if this thing doesn’t front?”

“It will. It may have taken five victims within a week, but its hunger will still be great. Track it to its lair, Risa, and kill it. Prove to these three—and to the council at large—that I’m right. Prove that you can be the asset I have said you will be.”

Great. Now she was using me to cement her power. I thrust a hand through my hair. “I can’t stay in this room. Not while vamps are feeding.”

“You won’t. Marshall?”

He turned and moved to the far side of the room. A keypad sat there, looking oddly out of place in the sterile whiteness of the room. He pressed in a code, and beside him a door slid open. Beyond it was a small box-shaped room.

“It is fully shielded,” Marshall said. “No vampire will sense your presence in there, no matter how strong their telepathic skills might be.”

Meaning I was safe from Hunter’s intrusions? Somehow I doubted that. “And why would you have a room like that installed in a place like this?”

She smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “Because there are some who like to watch.”

Horror crawled through me. She liked to watch. God. I licked my lips and tried to ignore the thickening sensation of fear. “How do I get out of this place once dawn rises?”

“There is a door-release button within. Use that if the Rakshasa appears. Otherwise, Marshall will retrieve you.” She took a step forward, the movement fluid and elegant. “Watch carefully, dear Risa, and pass the tests. I really would prefer for you to remain alive for a while yet.”

Her warning suggested there would be more than just one test. I glanced at the man she’d identified as Odale, and saw the anticipation flicker through the dead space of his eyes. Whatever else they had in mind, it would be bloody. I swallowed heavily, shoved intuition back into its box, and said, “Yeah, so would I.”

She nodded, and swept rather regally from the room, the three councillors following silently in her wake. The dark energy of their presence seemed to linger long after they’d gone.

“Risa,” Marshall said, the sudden sound of his voice making me jump. “You need to step inside. Our first customer will arrive in a few minutes.”

Oh god. I closed my eyes for a moment, then, with Amaya spitting fire all over the place, I forced my feet forward and entered the box-room. It was even smaller than it looked, barely big enough to hold two chairs. Interestingly, there was a camera discreetly placed in one corner, and the back wall was not only padded, but had hand grips. I didn’t want to know why. I really didn’t—but that didn’t stop my imagination throwing up all sorts of sick possibilities.

The door whooshed shut and the darkness closed in. As did fear.

“Are you all right?” Azriel asked.