Darkness Hunts (Dark Angels 4)
“Obviously, the kitchen heat had something to do with it.”
“Yeah.” He took a sip of beer and leaned back in the chair. “I had all the jets going on the stove. It seems to feed on that sort of stuff.”
It was a fire elemental, so that was logical. “It might also have been the sun. It was warm today.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No sun gets into the kitchen.”
“It mightn’t need direct sunlight. Maybe just the warmth is enough.” I paused. “At least no one was hurt. You controlled it that much; in the end, that’s all that matters.”
“But I almost didn’t.” His expression was bleak. “I’m scared to death it’ll take me over, and I’ll destroy everything and everyone I love.”
I put my beer down, then knelt in front of him and took his hands in mine. “I promise you, Tao, we won’t let this thing destroy you or anyone else. It hasn’t won the fights, and it won’t win the battle. We won’t let it.”
“I hope you’re right.” But his expression suggested he actually held very little hope himself.
I hesitated. “Maybe you should work at night for the time being. At least until you’re more confident of your ability to control the elemental.”
“Yeah.” He tugged his hands free from mine and pulled me close. For several minutes he did nothing more than hug me—it almost felt like he was attempting to hold on to his own humanity by hanging on to mine. Gradually, the heat in him began to dissipate, until his body temperature was only a little above what would be considered normal for a werewolf.
Only then did the tension in him subside.
He released me and said, “Looks like we’ve both got an unintended night off.”
I forced a smile and sat back on my heels. “I guess the fire did have one benefit, then.”
“I guess it did.” He scrubbed a hand across his stubbly chin, the sound like sandpaper against a wall. “I might take myself down to the Blue Moon and lose a couple hours.”
And the ghosts of fear, I suspected. They were ghosts I knew all too well, because they were inside me, too. “I’ll ring Ilianna and update her.”
“Oh fuck, I forgot—”
“Don’t worry,” I cut in quickly, as the air temperature suddenly spiked. The elemental might be down, but it wasn’t yet out. He needed to keep calm. “I’ll take care of it. Just go have some fun and relax.”
“I will.” He rose and kissed the top of my head. “Thanks.”
I caught my bottom lip with my teeth as I watched him walk out. Because I knew, despite my promises, that there was no guarantee he would win this battle. He had to find the strength within himself—none of us could do that for him, and certainly there was no magic or potion that would work in this sort of situation. Lord only knew, Ilianna and the Brindle witches had tried hard enough to find one.
Tao was one of the strongest people I knew, but he was obviously struggling. And I knew, deep down, that there was a very real possibility that we might yet lose him to the monster that resided within.
* * *
In the end, I decided against leaving Amaya behind. Lucian might fear the sorcerer’s reaction to her, but I wasn’t about to walk into the unknown without the means to fully protect myself. And if that meant that the sorcerer walked, then so be it.
Maxwell’s, it turned out, was more than just a lovely little bar situated at the upscale end of Collins Street. It also happened to be an extremely discreet wolf club.
Not that you could tell from merely stepping inside the place. It appeared to be nothing more than a very stylish, very elegant bar that catered to humans and non-humans alike. The surrounds—old-world architecture, luxurious leather couches, and a stunning marble bar—gave it the feel of a gentlemen’s club, although overall it was far more friendly and welcoming.
It was only the faintest trace of sex and desire stirring lazily through the air that gave the game away and, even then, it was only an occasional tease.
I briefly contemplated walking out, but if I did that, I might throw away our one and only chance to talk to someone with the skill to either stop or mute the transmitter in my heart. We needed to at least hear our options before we declined them.
Although if I was being completely honest, the real reason I didn’t walk out was that I was intrigued. I’d never heard of Maxwell’s—not even a whisper on the grapevine—which meant whoever ran it maintained extreme control. And that made me wonder why. Franklin’s—the private wolf club I was a member of—was also very discreet, but it was not unknown in the wolf world, and I imagined it catered to the same sort of upmarket clientele.
A waiter approached, a polite smile creasing his pleasant features. “Welcome to Maxwell’s, ma’am. Are you here for a casual drink, or would you prefer a seat in our restaurant?”
I hesitated. “I’m here to meet a friend—Mr. Lucian Dupont—but I’m not sure whether he’s booked a table or not.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Dupont said you might be late. He and his other guest have been here for just over an hour.” Though there was no censure in his voice, it was nevertheless a gentle rebuke. Obviously, one did not keep members waiting. Amusement teased my lips as he motioned a waitress forward. “Amy will show you to the private dining area.”