Darkness Unmasked

“Yeah. Ilianna’s gone missing.” I sat in one of the spare chairs and scooted it across to his “bridge” of computer screens. “I need you to hack into either her car’s GPS signal or locate her via her phone.”



He gave me the sort of look a father might give a child that was being exceptionally dumb. “And have you tried using Latitude?”



“Um, no?” Mainly because I was of the opinion that if my friends wanted to find me, they could damn well ring and ask me.



He sighed. “Did I not tell you all to sign up for it some time ago?”



“Yes, but—”



“No buts. I told you, it’s the easiest way ever invented to uncover where your buddies might be hiding, and it doesn’t even require GPS.” He swung around, swiped one of the screens across to Google, and logged in. A map of Melbourne appeared, dotted with arrowed face pics. He leaned forward a little, studying all the names, then grinned.



“Here you go,” he said, enlarging the screen. “She’s at South Bank.”



Which wasn’t that enlightening given how big the place was. Although, if I remembered right, Carwyn had booked a table at Harvest Time—did this mean she was headed there? That she was okay, despite being incommunicado? “Where in South Bank?”



He frowned, zoomed the screen in a little more, then said, “According to this, she’s at Wilson’s Parking, just off Freshwater Place.” He glanced up at me. “It’s the riverside quay area, if you don’t know it.”



“I don’t, but we’ll find it.” I jumped up and dropped a kiss on his unshaven and definitely scratchy cheek. “Thank you.”



“No probs. Just give me some warning next time you decide to drop by.” He gave Azriel another dubious look. “Despite what your friend here says, my heart really can’t take surprises like that.”



I grinned. “I’ll send some more champers to make up for it.”



He snorted. “I haven’t got the last lot yet.”



“You will.”



“And I’ll need it if you keep popping into existence willy-nilly. Now, go find Ilianna so I can get back to my gaming.”



“Done.”



I stepped into Azriel’s arms and he whisked us out of there. We reappeared on the center strip that divided the two lanes of Freshwater Place, the eight-story parking garage in front of us and the remaining wall of an old brick warehouse behind us. Several cars zoomed past, briefly spotlighting us before sweeping on.



I grabbed Azriel’s hand and ran across the road. “Can you sense her?” I asked, as we headed into the garage via the exit lane.



“No.” His fingers squeezed mine lightly. “But that does not mean she is not here.”



Didn’t mean she was, either. I ignored the fear that rose with the thought and hurried on. The garage had eight levels, and we found Ilianna’s car on the seventh.



She wasn’t in it.



I swore vehemently and punched the roof of her Jeep hard enough to actually dent it.



“There are security cameras dotted around this place,” Azriel commented. “I would suggest you avoid such outbursts unless you wish company.”



I flexed my fingers, somehow managed to control the somewhat insane desire to continue to take my frustration out on Ilianna’s car, and peered in through the windows instead. And there, sitting on the front seat, were not only her phone, but her purse and coat as well.



Ilianna might have left her phone behind if it had gone dead, but she sure as hell wouldn’t have left her purse.



Something had happened to her.



“Damn it!” I all but exploded. “What the hell is going on?”



“I don’t know—”



“Neither do I,” I cut in, voice bitter. I leaned back against the car and closed my eyes. “This day has just gone from bad to fucking worse. Maybe we should just quit while we’re ahead.”



“A sentiment I would agree with, except for the fact that Hunter, at the very least, would not be pleased by such an event.”



As if on cue, my phone rang. And the tone told me it was Hunter.



“The bitch obviously has her phone linked to my thoughts,” I muttered, but nevertheless dug it out of my pocket and hit the ANSWER button. “No, I haven’t found her yet. I haven’t found anyone fucking yet.”



Amusement touched her lips, though it did little to lift the shadows from her bright eyes. “I take it the day has not been a good one for you.”



“No. Ilianna has gone missing.” I paused. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that, would you?”



She arched an eyebrow. “And why would I bother with such an endeavor?”



“Well, you did make less-than-veiled threats against my friends if I didn’t do what you want.”



“Ah yes, I remember.” Her amusement grew. “But given you are doing as I desire, there is no need for such action as yet, is there, now?”



Her reply was almost purred. If I could have reached down the phone and strangled the bitch, I would have.



“I guess not.” It was said through somewhat clenched teeth. “But the fact of the matter is that I’m not having much luck tracking down the Jorõgumo.”



“But you found two of her nests. Or was the burned-out bedroom not your handiwork?”



I mentally swore and rubbed my forehead wearily. I was starting to get one hell of a headache, and I suspected it wouldn’t go away in a hurry. Not unless I drowned it under several gallons of alcohol, and that wasn’t particularly practical right now—even if it sounded like the best idea I’d had for ages.



“What did Rhoan say in his report?”



“That something or someone destroyed what appeared to be a nest of spiders in one Ms. Summers’s bedroom.”



And how had he come to that conclusion given that Amaya’s flames had consumed just about everything? And why hadn’t I received a phone call demanding to know why the hell I was even anywhere near the place given my promise not to investigate? He surely wouldn’t have missed the fact that the Ducati was parked right outside. If she was still parked outside, that was. Knowing my uncle, he’d probably ordered her confiscated, just to teach me a lesson.



“I burned the bastards because I didn’t think anyone would want a friggin’ nest of Jorõgumos remaining in existence,” I said, with a touch more annoyance than was probably wise. Just because she seemed to be amused didn’t mean she actually was. “They were too young to be in any form other than spider, so it was unlikely the Directorate witches would have gotten any information out of them.”



“And what about the mama spider?”



“Well, she’s supposed to be performing at someplace called the Falcon Club at midnight, but I don’t like our chances of catching her there.”



The amusement faded. Rapidly. “And why would that be?”



Because I burned her babies and it’s more than likely she sensed it. But I wasn’t about to actually say that. My life might not be fun at the moment, but I sure as hell wasn’t ready to see it end just yet.



“Because we’re not dealing with a dumb spirit here. She spotted me at Hallowed Ground and did a runner. She knows we’re after her.”



“Not even a spirit can deny the urge of a mother to feed her young,” Hunter commented. “She didn’t kill this afternoon, so if she still has young to feed, she will be forced to do so either tonight or tomorrow.”



Undoubtedly. “So do you want me to go to the Falcon Club, or would you rather?” I kept my fingers crossed for the latter, because the last thing I really felt like right now was traipsing off to another bloody club.



As usual, it was a forlorn hope.



“I have no desire to be involved in the grunt work of investigating. That is what underlings are for.”



A smile touched her lips, but it was in no way a nice smile. Just for a moment, I thought about Harry Stanford’s offer and was tempted. Seriously tempted.



But only briefly. However desperate I might be feeling, I wasn’t insane, and there was no way in hell I was going to cross the line and go up against Hunter.



“Just remember to contact me once you have found her,” she continued, in that same sweet, do-it-or-I’ll-kill-you voice. “Because I very much intend to do to her what she did to Wolfgang.”



Consume her? Not just her blood, but her intestines, guts, and brain? Surely to god that wasn’t possible for a vampire to do—blood yes, but not the innards as well? And yet if any vampire could be capable of it, then it would be Hunter.



Somehow, I managed to keep the horror out of my voice as I said, “You’ll be the first person I call.”



“I had best be the only call you make where this case is concerned.”



I’d meant the comment sarcastically—it wasn’t like I could call anyone else, anyway. But I didn’t bother replying. I just hung up, shoved the phone away, and glanced at my watch. “Well, it’s nine o’clock. Given I can’t do anything else to find Ilianna, and I have no intention of going to that damn club earlier than I have to, we’ve got only one option left.”



“And that is?” Azriel said, the slightest hint of a smile breaking his otherwise bland expression.



“We go home and make mad, crazy love to each other. Let’s grab a moment of utter normality before the shit hits the fan completely.”



Because a storm was coming. I could feel it. And I had a bad, bad suspicion I might not survive it.



Azriel caught my hand and tugged me into his arms. “While I am alive, you will remain so. I promise you that, if nothing else.”



I melted into his embrace and listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. “If death is my fate, even you cannot change that.”



He didn’t answer, and my stomach dropped. I looked up quickly and caught the flash of . . . something dark—perhaps even a little guilt—in his eyes. Then it was gone, and all that remained was tenderness.