Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)
“It is also possible that you warned him.”
The voice was cool, without inflection or emotion, but it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was one of the Raziq who’d torn me apart to place the tracker in my heart.
“I didn’t warn him, trust me on that. I want as little to do with him as I do with you.”
“That, at least, is true.” The energy in the air sharpened. “Do not release your weapon, Mijai. There are too many of us here, and your numbers are few enough.”
“Our numbers are irrelevant.” Though his voice was as calm and cool as the Raziq’s, his stance had shifted imperceptibly. He was readying for action. “What matters is my ability to counter your presence, and that is not in question.”
The fierceness in the air suddenly sharpened, and a thick sense of impending doom swamped me. If Azriel attacked, he’d die. I was as sure of that as I was of the moon rising tonight. There was no way known that I was about to let that happen.
I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around his arm. It felt like I was gripping stone.
The force of Valdis’s flames ramped up, but Azriel didn’t react. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling anything. The force of it just about blew my brain circuits.
“Your presence here does nothing to encourage my father to come back,” I said, trying to keep calm against the twin storms buffeting me. “If you want him, you had better leave.”
“He now knows about the tracker. The point of it is useless.”
My mouth went suddenly dry. If the tracker was useless, did that mean I was as well? I swallowed heavily, and somehow said, “And here I was thinking the Aedh were clever enough to work out a way around that.”
He obviously didn’t catch the sarcasm in my voice. “That is without question. But your father is also Aedh—he will find a means to mute the transmitter.”
No doubt. “Then you’ll just have to work faster than him, won’t you?”
“Or develop a different way of drawing him to you.” He paused. “We will be in contact, Risa Jones.”
The threat hung in the air as the energy of their presence began to dissipate. Azriel wrenched his arm from my grip, then drew Valdis back and released her in one violent movement. The sword sang through the air, the sound fierce, joyous. She hit the fading remnants of the shimmer and there was a short, sharp explosion, accompanied by a shrill scream. Then there was no energy, no Raziq.
Only fury.
Valdis looped around and returned to her master. Azriel caught her one-handed, then swung to face me. His expression was as angry as I’d ever seen it.
“Do not ever do that again.” Though his voice was flat, every inch of him seemed to vibrate. Valdis’s steel wasn’t even visible, so dark were her flames.
And Amaya responded, her hissing fierce enough inside my head to make my eyes water. She was ready to protect, whether it be against foe or friend.
“Azriel—”
“I am here to protect you, not the other way around.”
“You would have died.” I sheathed Amaya—although it didn’t shut her up—and rubbed my arms. Not that it did much against the force still assaulting me or the chill that the mere thought of losing him sent through me.
“There is always the Aedh,” he practically spat. “You trust him so much, after all.”
Anger surged. Anger and hurt. “Damn you, Azriel, that was totally uncalled-for!”
I shouldered past him, blinking back ridiculous tears as I stepped over the dying embers of our swords’ fire. Damn it, far worse had been said to me over the years, so why would I let a comment like that get past the armor?
Because, my inner voice whispered, you care more than you should. More than is wise.
And he didn’t. Because he was energy rather than flesh and didn’t do emotions the same way the rest of us did. I knew that. Just as I knew his mission would always come first, no matter what. But the knowledge didn’t help ease the pain of that situation or this one.
I made it five steps past the flames before he caught my hand and stopped me.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should not have said that.”
“No,” I answered, not turning around and still blinking furiously.