Darkness Devours

“I might. I might not.” I hesitated, then added in a more biting tone, “Which right now is exactly what I’m thinking when it comes to seeing you again.”



He chuckled softly. “As if you could give up what we share so easily. Do not fool yourself, Risa. Roughhouse or not, you enjoyed every inch of what we did here today.”



“I did, but that isn’t the point.” I ran my fingers through my sweaty, matted hair, then added, “Just go. I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to smell you, and I certainly don’t want to feel you. Not now, and not in the foreseeable future.”



He raised an eyebrow. “And just how am I to get out, given the wards and the security system you have installed in this place?”



“Easy,” I muttered. “I’ll let you out.”



I slipped past him and walked naked to the front door, waiting impatiently as he unhurriedly dressed and sauntered out.



He stopped in the doorway, his expression still amused. “I give this anger two nights, at the most.”



“Yet another bet you’ll lose,” I snapped back, and slammed the door on his retreating butt.



But as I stalked back into my bathroom to see if the water had reheated enough to grab a quick shower, I had a sneaking suspicion that lasting even one day without feeling his touch was going to be a whole lot harder than I might wish.



Jak called as I was preparing my breakfast. I slid the huge pile of eggs and bacon onto the plate, then grabbed my coffee and walked over to the dining table. After pressing the vid-button, I propped the phone up against the vase of roses in the middle of the table, and sat down.



“You’re just eating breakfast?” Jak said, by way of greeting as his dark features popped onto the phone’s screen. “It’s four in the afternoon—it’s closer to dinner than breakfast.”



“I worked late at the café last night.” And I’d fallen back into bed after my second shower, catching another three hours of much-needed sleep.



“So why not prepare dinner?”



“Because I felt like bacon and eggs.” I dove into my meal as I spoke. Jak had seen the best and worst of me during our time together, and I saw no reason for politeness now. “I gather you’re not phoning to discuss my breakfast times.”



“You gathered right.”



I looked up and saw that laughter crinkled the corners of his ebony eyes. And I was reminded of the times we’d shared similar late-afternoon breakfasts, of the fun, and the loving that had followed.



I tore my gaze away from the screen and tried to concentrate on eating. Those times were gone. Remembering them would do nothing more than remind me just how empty my current love life was. Sex—no matter how fantastic—could never replace the intimacy of a real relationship. Not long term. And ultimately, that was what I really wanted.



Of course, that was exactly what I wasn’t going to get from Lucian, or even Azriel. Although I guess Azriel did appear to have the capacity for emotions, which made him one step up the ladder from Lucian, but still not a great option. Hell, as much as part of me still hungered for what Jak and I had shared, he wasn’t Mr. Long Term, either, no matter what I might have thought or how much I’d loved him when we’d been an item. He was married to his work, and everything and everyone else came second to that.



“Then tell me what you want.”



“Risa,” he chided softly, “you know I don’t like talking over the phone. One never knows just who is listening in.”



“Nice to see you’re still paranoid about people stealing your scoops,” I said. “Although I’d like to know when that has ever happened.”



“Actually, it happened several months ago. You remember that piece the Age ran on the rat gangs running the old sewers?”



I scooped up several pieces of bacon and munched on them contemplatively, then eventually said, “No.”



He snorted. “Nice to see you’re still keeping up with world events.”



“Hey, I don’t get enough spare time these days to waste it reading newspapers.” Especially since he was often featured in my favorite one.



“Well, take it from me, that scoop was mine—and the bastard only got it half right.”



“Well, I doubt the half-right bit would have annoyed you too much.”



“Sweetheart, you really need to get over this whole resentment thing and move on.”



I did my best to ignore the ache that washed through me at his use of the endearment. “I have. I’m just having a little trouble resisting the urge to needle. Where do you want to meet, and when?”



He shifted position, and I recognized the lighthouse print behind him. He was home rather than at work. “Look, this story you’ve handed me is a little tricky given not only the Directorate’s involvement but a definite unwillingness on the street to discuss the buy-up. I think it would be better if we appear to meet accidentally rather than on purpose. Might be safer for us both.”



Alarm swam through me. “Meaning you’ve been threatened?”



“Not in so many words, but I got the distinct impression it might be better to leave this one alone.” He laughed, and his face came alive. “Which of course only stirred my curiosity all the more.”



I snorted softly. He hadn’t changed, not one little bit. “So where do you want to meet? And don’t say the Blue Moon because I don’t go there anymore, and I’m certainly not dancing with you.”



“Ah, Risa, that’s such a shame.” His voice was almost wistful. “We were so good together.”



“We were being the correct phrase there.”



“Perhaps.” He shrugged lightly. “What about Chrome? Do you and that gang of yours still hang out there?”



Chrome was a trendy bar in Brunswick that Ilianna, Tao, and I had all but lived in as university students. The booze was cheap, the atmosphere fantastic, and on a Friday night, it was still the only place in that area to be seen. “Yeah, once or twice a month, just for old times’ sake.”



“Good. Shall we say seven?”



Seven would still leave me time to see Tao. “Okay. Save me a barstool.”



“Naturally.” He hesitated, then added softly, “I love the new hair color. Makes your eyes stand out more.”



And with that, he disconnected. I swore softly and wished that he—and the past—would just leave me alone. Which was a stupid desire, since I was the one responsible for bringing him back into my life. The past was always going to come as accompanying baggage.



I finished my breakfast, then went back into my bedroom, swapping my dress for a summer top and jeans. Although the jeans I found myself reaching for were the Kevlar-infused ones, and that had me wondering if my sometimes unreliable clairvoyance ability sensed a bike fall in the near future. I hoped not—I didn’t want the Ducati damaged.



It was close to five by the time I locked up and headed down the side steps to the garage. Azriel was waiting near my bike, his expression as remote as I’d ever seen it. Not happy about something, that was for sure.



“What’s happening?” he asked, his voice as neutral as his expression.



I raised an eyebrow as I plucked my helmet free of its stand. “What, you haven’t been following every single thought I’ve had since I woke up?”



Yellow fire flicked up Valdis’s side, although Azriel’s expression remained stony. “You know that’s not possible when Ilianna’s wards are powered up. She has placed far more restrictions than your father did.”



“How is that something I’m supposed to know when you’ve never bothered to tell me before now?”



He ignored the sarcasm in my voice and simply said, “I take it Jak called?”



“Yes.” I sat astride my bike and half wondered if he was annoyed because Lucian was allowed into the warehouse and he wasn’t. “He refuses to discuss anything on the phone, so I’m meeting him at seven.”



“But you’re going to see Tao first?”



“Yes.” I eyed him for a moment, wondering again why he’d reverted back to the stiff and unyielding Azriel I’d first met. It couldn’t just be annoyance over Lucian, surely. I added silently, Is our watcher still near?



Yes.



Which meant I’d better act like I’d been investigating the case rather than sleeping and fucking. “Did you manage to scope out any information about the Rakshasa?”



“Some. I’m told the best way to kill them is to smash the heart of their dark god, which is usually to be found in a sacred urn within their lair. This will make the Rakshasa stay in flesh, and render them easier to kill.”



“Their lair?”



He nodded. “Apparently they are found in packs of six or more.”



Fabulous. Not. “If there’s six or more of them, I can’t say I fancy the idea of tracking them back to their lair. Surely there’s another way to kill them…”



“If you can trap it when it’s about to consume its next victim, then white ash, silver, or even sunlight might destroy it.”



Might. Not a good word choice. “What about the others in the lair?”



“There is usually only one hunter per pack. Take out the hunter, and you probably destroy the others.”



“Which means we need to be there when it selects its next victim, then track it home if the trap doesn’t work.” I stared at him as dread settled into the pit of my stomach. “And that means keeping watch at Dark Earth. That’s not something I want to do.”



“Then do not.” But remember, you do this because you fear Hunter and her council. He paused, then added, with a little more emphasis than was needed, How do you think she would react if you backed out of this investigation now?



Badly. And with much venom. I sighed. “Dark Earth is not a place I want to go near again—especially at night.”



“I’ll be there.”



And he would protect me as much as he could. I knew that. But I also knew he was just one against a possible frenzy.