Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)

“What about his buddy?”

“He’s a man by the name of Jason Bright. He’s an IT specialist with a history of hacking into high-profile companies and then selling their information on the black market. He’s served a smattering of time, but he’s been flying under the radar since he was released five years ago.”

If he was an IT specialist, why wouldn’t he have done something about the cameras to stop them from recording their presence? It wouldn’t have been that hard for someone who knew what they were doing—Stane could have managed it with his eyes shut.

“Meaning the two of them somehow hooked up when Zane arrived in Australia?”

“More than likely.” He glanced sideways, said something to whoever was in the car with him, then added, “We’re on our way to Bright’s last known address now.”

“What about Zane?”

“The address listed in the system was for an apartment that was torn down years ago. But his bank records show activity in the same vicinity as Bright’s house, so we’re hoping they share a residence and we can nab them both.”

It wouldn’t be that easy. No way, nohow. Our faceless killer might now have both a name and a face, but he seemed way too smart to leave such an obvious trail.

“You’ll call me after you raid the place?”

“Yes. But I’m sending through pics of both men, just in case this is little more than a diversion and they’re actually coming after you.”

A shiver ran through me. He was coming after me. I knew that for a fact, but at least knowing what he looked like would give me a small advantage.

Not that it would matter if he came in astral form.

“Be careful, won’t you? I’d hate to see—”

“Risa, I’ve been doing this for more years than you’ve been alive.” Amusement and warmth filled his voice. “Even if Taylor and Bright were aware of the cameras and have done a runner, they won’t have had time to clear away all the evidence. We’ll find them.”

I wasn’t worried about Rhoan and the Directorate finding them. I was worried about our killers finding him. After all, he was the one who’d pointed out how little respect Taylor seemed to have for the Directorate—and maybe that was because he was always one step ahead of them.

I had a horrible suspicion he was still one step ahead of all of us.

“I know,” I said. “Just . . . good luck.”

“Stop worrying about me, dear Risa, and just make sure you keep alert until we catch this bastard.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be in touch when we have him.”

He hung up, but the phone beeped immediately as two messages came in. I opened them to discover the faces of both my hunter and his assistant.

As Rhoan had noted, Zane was one hell of an ugly man. His face was round and puffy, the left side so scarred that it almost looked like it had melted. His hair was sparse and the same nondescript brown as his eyes, and his nose large.

Jason Bright, his companion in crime, had thin features, thick-framed black glasses, and dirty blond hair. He was the sort of man you wouldn’t look twice at on the street. The sort of man who looked totally and absolutely harmless.

And yet it was no doubt thanks to him that Zane had discovered my home address. If he could hack into the systems of high-profile companies, it would have been easy enough to gain access to the security company that monitored Vonda’s and Dani’s homes.

And maybe he was the reason the Directorate hadn’t been having much luck tracking Zane. If he was so damn good, then it wouldn’t have been too hard to get into the Directorate system and see what they were up to. After all, Stane could do exactly that—though he hadn’t recently because the Directorate had increased security and he preferred to stay out of jail.

I took one more look at the killer who was hunting me, then dumped the phone on the nearby pillow and closed my eyes. Weariness still rode me, but it was nowhere near as deep as it had been. I half wondered if Azriel had given me a little energy boost while I’d slept.

“No,” he said softly. “It would not have been wise.”

To touch you. The unspoken part of that sentence swam through my thoughts. Frustration rose like a wave and threatened to swamp me yet again.

Get it under control, I reminded myself fiercely. Accept the reality and just move on.

But saying that, and actually doing it, were two entirely different things.