Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“Yes, I’ve released them.” The stranger paused. “Yes, I’ll head up now and move any cars that might be hanging about, just in case.”

“Damn,” Jak muttered. “If he damages—”

I stamped on his foot, hard. He hissed, but otherwise fell silent.

The stranger reappeared. He made a motion with his left hand, and the sickly glow reappeared in the runes. It wasn’t strong enough to light the niche, but it did throw off just enough to make him a little more visible. He was about my height, with thick shoulders, muscular arms, and tree-trunk legs. He reminded me somewhat of a wrestler, but he was extraordinarily light on his feet. He passed close by our niche, but didn’t see or smell us—he was human, not shifter or were, and for that I was suddenly grateful.

But as he passed, I noted the tats on his shoulders—one of a dragon with two swords crossed above it and the other a ring of barbed wire.

I’d seen both a number of times over the last few months. The dragon and swords meant he was a Razan, and while I wasn’t sure what the barbed wire tat represented, I’d seen it on the man who’d arranged the delivery of the Dušan that now resided on my left arm, as well as on one of the men who’d killed Logan’s secretary. How the two were connected I had no idea, because while we suspected that my father was responsible for the Dušan, there was no logical connection between him and the murder of Logan and his secretary. In fact, we were pretty sure the person responsible for those was the man who’d been impersonating Nadler.

Which meant we really needed to question this man.

The stranger strode on, the light in the six runes dying as he approached. As it did, the pillars came to life again.

It was now or never.

I motioned Jak to stay put, then carefully squeezed out of the niche and padded silently forward, flipping Amaya around to hold her by the blade rather than the hilt as I did so. I suspected—given her generally shitty mood—that if I used her blade she might take matters into her own hand and kill our quarry rather than just knock him out.

I raised the sword, but he suddenly dropped and turned, and Amaya whooshed harmlessly over his head. He surged upright, but I spun and kicked him hard in the gut. He flew backward, hit the wall with a loud crack, and slithered to the floor. I flipped Amaya, holding her hilt once more, but the Razan didn’t get up. After another moment or two, I stepped forward and pressed two fingers against his neck. His pulse was steady and strong, so I hadn’t done much more than knock him out.

“Now what do we do with him?” Jak came out of the niche and stopped beside me.

“We find out who he is and who he was talking to.”

I knelt beside the Razan and went through his pockets. I found the phone and tossed that to Jak, then continued the search until I found his wallet.

“According to his license,” I said, “his name is Henry Mack, and he lives in Broadmeadows.”

Jak grunted. “The phone is locked. Any ideas?”

My gaze went to his birth date on his license. It was a long shot, but a lot of people used such things for passwords. “Try one-four-oh-four.”

He did so, then shook his head.

“Reverse it.”

He pressed the appropriate buttons. “Nope.”

I gave him the year; then, when that also proved a bust, glanced at our last hope—the post code—and said, “Three-oh-four-seven, either way.”

“Bingo to the latter.”

I placed his license on the stone near his hand, then pulled out the other cards. There were four credit cards—two in the name of Henry Mack, and two in the name of Jason Marks—a transit card, and various receipts from shops. Mainly for clothes and grocery items, although interestingly, there was a small receipt from a place called Esoteric Supplies, which I knew from Ilianna was one of the main suppliers of wiccan items in Melbourne.

There was little else in the wallet except cash, so I placed the remaining cards on the stone, took a photo of both them and our stranger, and shot both off to Stane with a quick note to see what he could uncover.

“Well,” said Jak, “he’s only got a couple of numbers in his address book, and his last call came from a blocked number. I don’t suppose we can take the risk and call it back?”

“And let whoever is behind this know we have his Razan? Not a good idea.”

Jak flicked through other screens. “They’re going to know something went on, anyway. I mean, you knocked him out.”

“True.” I hesitated, awareness suddenly prickling across my senses.

And suddenly remembered the Razan’s last words. Yes, I’ve released them.

I spun around. The stones’ circle was complete again, and its fading glow did little to light the immediate darkness. The pillars had fallen completely silent. There was no escape that way—not unless we could get the gate open again.