Darkness Falls (Dark Angels 7)

After all, he knew in full the paths that lay before us, thanks to the fates.

I swung back around and marched into the Directorate’s foyer. The security guard glanced up as we entered, and an odd sort of expression—one that was part fear, part pity—crossed his face before he managed to compose himself.

“Risa Jones, I believe,” he said, voice neutral.

“That I am,” I replied. “I’m here to see Director Hunter.”

“She is expecting you.” He glanced at Azriel. “I’m afraid you’ll have to hand in your weapons.”

Azriel crossed his arms and simply said, “No.”

The guard blinked. “I’m sorry, but I have been ordered not—”

“I will not relinquish my sword,” Azriel said, “but even if I did, it would do Hunter no good, as the sword has a mind of its own and will follow me into her lair regardless. And heaven help those who try to stop her.”

The guard hesitated, and an odd sort of blankness came into his eyes. Communicating with the boss, I realized. Obviously, Hunter had stacked the decks with her people, rather than people who were loyal to the Directorate itself.

Life returned to the guard’s eyes. “You’ve been cleared to carry within the building.” He paused to hand us both a pass. “Please use elevator five—it will take you express up to the director’s suites.”

“Thank you.”

I turned and headed for the elevator. Number five opened as we approached, but my steps slowed as I was hit with a vision of the doors closing and the elevator plunging to unknown depths, killing us both. It would certainly be the easy option when it came to getting the key.

“Hunter knows I can transport us both out in such an event.” Azriel’s fingers lightly pressed against my spine, urging me on. “And she is so arrogantly sure of her own superiority that she would prefer to kill us herself rather than employ a third-party means of doing so.”

“If she was so sure of defeating us, she wouldn’t be meeting us in one of the securest buildings in Melbourne.”

I swiped the pass across the scanner. The doors closed and the elevator rose rather than dropped. Relief still swam through me. Azriel might have been certain of this outcome, but Hunter never did the expected. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had chosen the smashing-elevator option.

I watched the numbers climb on the softly lit floor-level indicator above the doorway, and with each level that passed, my tension grew. When the elevator finally stopped on the tenth floor, I was wound up so tight it felt like the slightest touch would shatter me.

I licked my lips and forced my feet forward as the doors opened. Azriel was at my back, his calm exterior belying the tension and readiness within him. Once in the foyer, I paused and glanced around, wanting to get an idea of the layout before I went any farther. The only way on or off this floor was via the elevator we’d used. Where the other elevator doors should have been there was solid concrete, and directly in front of us was a reinforced security area that practically bristled with all sorts of scanners and weapons. Hunter was taking no chances. There was also no fire exit, and apparently no bathrooms. Hunter, old vampire or not, still had to use the loo like the rest of us, but if she was this paranoid about her safety in a place that was filled with guardians, then it would make sense that she’d have a private bathroom.

The guard beyond the security barrier had one hand on a rather nasty-looking weapon as we approached. He nodded his head toward the scanners. I stepped

through first, stopped when he motioned me to do so, and watched as several lights, some blue, some red, scanned me. No alarms or lights went off. I was motioned through into what looked like a glass cage and held there while Azriel went through the scanning process. Again no alarms sounded.

“Weapons in the box,” the guard said, shoving a clear plastic container into our little cell.

“I will not relinquish my sword, and Hunter is well aware of this fact. And,” he added, glancing up at the discreetly placed camera in one corner, “she would be well advised to stop playing these games or I will simply transport into her chambers and kill her. I care nothing for Rhoan Jenson’s safety myself, remember.”

The guard’s eyebrows rose, but before he could say anything, a light flashed; then Hunter said, voice cool and amused, “Let them in, Walter, swords and all.”

He pressed a button and one section of the glass cell retracted. The walls and ceiling had been covered with thick but plush soundproofing, and it gave the corridor an ominous, almost forbidding feel.

“Second door on the right,” he said.

We moved forward. Our footsteps made no sound; in fact, the only sound to be heard in this place was the squeak of the guard’s chair as he settled back into position, and my somewhat rapid breathing.

The second door slightly clicked open as we neared it. I wouldn’t have been surprised if some black-hooded creature suddenly appeared and bade us entry into hell itself, but imagination and reality were two different beasts. There was no one at the door, or even in the large conference room beyond it.

“Welcome to my humble home away from home,” Hunter said, her voice coming from everywhere and yet nowhere. I looked around for speakers but couldn’t immediately find them; nor could I find any cameras. They had to be hidden in the walls. “I am glad to see that you are punctual. Or rather, Jenson will undoubtedly be glad that you are punctual.”

“Enough with the word games,” I said, keeping my voice even. I wished I could so easily control the tension. “Tell me where he is and how to free him from whatever trap you may have wrapped around him.”

“As you wish. There is, however, one small complication—you can’t rescue him.” The amusement in Hunter’s voice was stronger. “And it is the reason I have allowed your lover to keep his sword. You see, the magic that secures Jenson can only be bypassed by a full-energy being such as your reaper. Your uncle, as a half-breed, will only succeed in killing both Jenson and himself if he undertakes the rescue attempt.”

“Meaning Azriel has to make the choice—me or my uncle.” I wasn’t surprised, because I’d suspected all along it would come down to me and Hunter, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t pissed off.