Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

I’d barely crawled through the gap in the roller door when Azriel took my hands in his and gently pulled me upright.

He didn’t immediately say anything, just kept hold of my hands as his gaze swept me. His expression gave little away, but his anger and concern raged through my inner being, the sheer force of it rocking me back on my heels. Maybe Quinn hadn’t been overstating when he’d said Azriel had been frantic. And while that thought warmed me, the snarky voice deep within couldn’t help but note that if anything happened to me, his mission would fail. And in the end, his mission was everything.

“You cannot keep going like this,” he said eventually. “It will be the death of you.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to the bad guys who keep attacking us.” I pulled my hands from his, even though all I really wanted to do was step fully into his embrace and let the heat and warm strength of him melt into my bones and make me feel safe.

And I didn’t care if that feeling of safety was as temporary as the man himself.

“Ris—” He stopped.

I shifted briefly into Aedh form to stop the bleeding, then crossed my arms and regarded him steadily. “I’m glad you didn’t bother denying the temporary situation, Azriel, because really, how can you ever be anything else? Especially when you don’t want anything else?”

“You have no idea what I do and don’t want.” It was vehemently said.

“No,” I agreed. “But to be honest, I don’t really think you do, either.”

I resolutely turned away, suddenly too tired to get into a fight with him again. It didn’t help. Awareness of him whispered through me: the flex of his fingers, the slow release of breath, the close shimmer of heat as he reached for—but didn’t quite touch—me.

I know what I want, Risa. His thoughts ran through my mind like whiskey on a cold night—warm, and yet with an edge that bit. And for both our sakes, you had better hope I never decide to take it.

That sounds like a threat, reaper.

It is nothing more than honesty.

And as usual, you being honest doesn’t actually tell me a whole lot, does it? I shook my head slightly. One of these days, Azriel, you might just regret your reticence.

I do every day I’m in your presence. His words stabbed deep, but he continued relentlessly. But it cannot alter my actions. It will not.

No, because what he truly wanted was to become a soul guide again. And nothing, not this quest, and certainly not whatever this thing between us was, would divert him from his path. He’d never made any secret of it, either, but it was beginning to rankle me more and more.

Because I cared, more and more.

I was, I decided, an idiot.

I crossed my arms and watched Quinn and Jak crawl through the gap. Quinn kept within the shadows of the building, even though the midday sun had passed. Habit more than necessity, I thought.

“Shall I meet you back at your place?”

“Yes,” Quinn said.

“No,” said Jak.

I glanced at him, surprised. He waved the notepad in his hand. “I took note of the numbers in that man’s phone book, and I want to chase them down just in case our sorcerer starts covering his tracks again.”

“Good idea.” It also saved me the hassle of having to explain to Riley his reemergence in my life. “You’ll call if you find anything?”

Jak snorted softly. “Like I have any other choice, given your uncle’s threat.”

I half smiled, and he gave me a sketchy farewell wave and headed back to his car. Once he was gone, I met Quinn’s gaze. “What does he remember?”

“Nothing more than my arrival, and me rearranging the Razan’s memories.”

At least he hadn’t rearranged all Jak’s memories.

“I wouldn’t,” he said mildly; then, as shock shivered through me, he smiled. “The micro-cells do provide some measure of protection against most vampires—even the ones as strong as Madeline Hunter—but they create little more than a mild barrier for someone as telepathically strong as me.”

“And Riley?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious. She was stronger than even him, after all.