Darkness Splintered (Dark Angels 6)

“And she said they haven’t noticed any such hot spots,” I cut in.

She frowned. “Yes. How did you guess?”

“Because it suddenly occurred to me that any sorcerer worth his salt is going to know just how trackable his magic is. So either the magic concealing and protecting the ley-line gateway is Aedh based and therefore untraceable via human means or —”

“Or,” she cut in, “he’s not using magic. Not to protect the intersection, anyway.”

“Exactly.” I began to pace. “There was a small protection circle around the cuneiform-etched stones Jak and I found in the tunnels under that warehouse near Stane’s. Maybe we should be looking for something along those lines on or near the intersection.”

There was also the other tunnel, Azriel commented. You did not examine that.

No, I hadn’t, mainly because I’d sensed something evil down there. I’d been right, too, because that was where the hellhounds had come from.

But why have the hounds down a completely different tunnel from the one that held the cuneiform transport stones? Had they been protecting something else entirely – like a gateway onto the gray fields? Had the hellhounds only been unleashed when we’d sprung the trap by falling through the floor?

And was that trap – as well as the cuneiform stones – the only way into those tunnels? Given how tight the tunnels were, I couldn’t imagine someone Lucian’s size actually using them with any sort of regularity. Not without doing himself major harm, anyway. And while it was easy enough to get into the warehouse via the broken loading-bay door, the building was surrounded by a barrier that prevented energy forms from entering – and he had been energy, even if he’d been forced to remain in flesh. Still, how hard would it have been for someone – be it Lucian himself or Lauren – to have woven exceptions into the spell? Not very, I’d imagine.

And that meant that maybe there was another entrance into that other tunnel somewhere inside that building.

All that is more than true, Azriel commented. But if that barrier is still active, neither of us may get back in.

I frowned. Why would the barrier prevent me from entering again?

Because we now share a life force and it altered your genetic makeup, Azriel commented. You may technically be flesh-based, but my life force now runs within you. That fact may make the shield react.

There’s only way we can test that theory.

Yes. But not before you eat.

Don’t nag me, Azriel.

Someone has to. His mental tones were grim.

“I’m gathering,” Ilianna said, her voice dry, “that given the silence and your sudden, somewhat annoyed expression, you and Azriel are having a telepathic spat.”

“Sorry, Ilianna,” I said immediately. “And yeah, we were.”

She smiled. “Tell him I’m on his side.”

“Hey,” I said, feigning hurt, “you’re my friend, not his.”

“Yeah, but if he’s telling you off, it probably has something to do with you not eating or looking after yourself. And that’s good, because you don’t.”

“Thanks, friend,” I muttered.

“No problem at all.” Her smile faded. “You’ll keep me updated on any progress?”

“As much as I can, Ilianna.”

She nodded and hung up. I rang the local pizza place, ordered a large with everything, then shoved my phone away and said, “Happy?”

“When you actually eat it, yes I will be.”

I got out some cash and handed it to him. “I’m going for a shower. If the delivery guy gets here before I’m done, give him this.”

He accepted the cash with a nod, then walked over to one of the broken windows and assumed his “soldier on guard” position – hands behind his back and feet slightly apart. The occasional ripple of blue running down Valdis’s length showed she was as alert as her master.

I headed for my bathroom, stripping off my dress and kicking off my shoes along the way. The light came on as I entered, and the black slate was warm under my feet, meaning neither the fire nor the water had damaged any of the electrical or heating circuits in this part of the house. Tao’s insistence on having separate circuits for the various sections of the warehouse had finally paid off. I dumped the dress into the laundry chute, then stepped into the shower. The water came on automatically at just the right temperature, the sharp spray like needles against my skin. For several moments I did nothing more than stand there, lifting my face to the spray and allowing the water to run down my body. And wished it could wash away the grief and tiredness as easily as it washed away the grime.