Darkness Devours (Dark Angels #3)

Darkness Devours (Dark Angels #3) Page 9

I signed off without bothering to say good-bye and shoved my phone back into my purse.

“There goes your afternoon nap,” Ilianna commented darkly. She’d expressed her opinion about my working for Hunter more than once, but had finally stopped harassing me about it. She knew, like I did, that there was no real choice given that half the council currently wanted me dead.

I grimaced and stood. “Yeah. But there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

“No. And I haven’t got holy water or even a stake in my purse to give you.”

“You said that like they’re everyday items one finds in a purse,” I said wryly.

She snorted softly. “Given the way Hunter is dragging you further and further into her web, they should be. At least then when the spider calls to the fly, the fly will be better armed.”

“Ilianna—”

She held up a hand, stopping me. “I know, I know. But the fact remains, you want revenge more than you want out of any deal with Hunter.”

Well, that was certainly true. “If this whole key business blows up in our faces, we might yet need Hunter and her Cazadors on our side.”

“If this whole key business blows up in our faces, we’re all going to be ass-deep in demons and fighting for our lives. I think Hunter and her council cronies will be too busy saving their own skins to worry about the rest of us.”

That was also probably more true than not. And Hunter was an unreliable ally. She may have convinced the council to give her more time to prove my worth, but that didn’t mean she—or they—couldn’t change their minds. And considering that they’d already thrown one test at me, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was yet another one.

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes wearily. “I’ve arranged for Sara to come in and do your shift at the café. I want you to go home tonight and get some sleep.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Sara couldn’t pour a decent drink to save her life.”

“Which is why I’ll be pouring drinks and she’ll be tending tables.” I raised a hand against her objections and added, “No more arguments. Just go home and rest.”

“Okay, okay,” she muttered. “I promise.”

Which meant she would. In this place, you didn’t break promises made. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow, then.”

She nodded. I dropped a kiss on Tao’s fiery cheek, then left. The day seemed even hotter after the cool darkness of the Brindle. I squinted up at the sky, looking for the storms they’d been predicting for later this afternoon but seeing only endless blue. This was Melbourne, though; weather could—and often did—change in a blink of an eye.

As I neared my bike, Azriel appeared. “I do not like the sound of this bar.”

“Neither do I.” I unlocked the Ducati, then pulled on my leathers. And immediately began to sweat. Having to wear heavy protection on a hot day was one of the few bad points of bike riding—although it was better than falling off and skinning my body down to bone on the tarmac. “Which is why I wouldn’t mind you appearing as something fearsome.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I would think a reaper is fearsome enough, even for a vampire.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I guess that depends on what you expect death to look like. If they envision him as a scantily clad, nubile young woman, I rather suspect that’s not going to be much of a deterrent.”

“I am not female, so I can hardly give them the visage of a young woman.”

Amusement ran through his words and a smile tugged at my lips. “So they’ll see the scythe-bearing shroud instead?”

“Yes. And that is often scarier than anything I could draw from their minds.”

Having seen such reapers myself, I could certainly attest to that. Even knowing that they weren’t coming for me didn’t erase the tendrils of fear. That vision of death was too locked into literature and film to produce anything else.

I checked my phone and discovered that Hunter had followed through with her promise and sent me the address—not that I’d expected anything else. Dark Earth was located on Barkley Street, either near or in the Barkley Square shopping center. It didn’t seem an ideal area for an underground vampire bar, but maybe that was the whole point.

I shoved the phone away and met Azriel’s gaze. “Shall I meet you there?”

He nodded and disappeared. I climbed onto the bike, fired her up, and zoomed out of the parking lot. The traffic was heavier than before, the roads filled with people undoubtedly escaping the office to enjoy the afternoon sunshine, so it took me a little longer to get across to Brunswick, even though it wasn’t that far away.

Once I’d parked and secured the bike, I walked down Barkley Street. According to Hunter’s instructions, the entrance to Dark Earth was located between Coles and the Kmart loading bay, in a small shopping-trolley collection nook.

I found the nook easily enough, but there sure as hell wasn’t any entrance.

Azriel appeared behind me, his heat fiercer than the day itself, but a whole lot more welcome. “It wouldn’t be evident given that the vampires have no desire for humanity to know its existence.”

“Logic is not what I need right now.” I ran my hand over the sunbaked apricot-colored concrete wall. It was rough and grimy under my hands, and there were vague stains lower down that smelled faintly of urine.

“Then may I suggest that you press what looks to be a piece of chewing gum on the upper part of the left rear wall?”

“Seriously?” I studied the gum a little distastefully, then stepped forward and did as he bid.

Nothing happened. Not immediately, anyway. I stepped back and frowned at the wall. As I did so, there was a faint crackle. “And you would be Risa Jones, I’m guessing,” a deep, somewhat dry voice said. “Hunter is nothing if not efficient with her people.”

“I’m hardly her people,” I retorted, my gaze searching the top of the wall for some sign of the camera that had to be there, with little success. Whoever had installed them had done a damn fine job.

“If you work for her,” the voice said, “then you’re hers. There is no escaping her web once she has spun it around you.”

A comment that echoed Ilianna’s fears, and not something I wanted to hear. “Look, I’m here to see Brett Marshall. If you’re him, let me in. If not, tell him I’m here.”

“My, we are an impatient one, aren’t we?”

“The sooner I check this place out, the quicker we may be able to track down the killer.” And the sooner I could get away from it. I might not have been inside yet, but Hunter’s words loomed large in the back of my mind. I did not want to be here any longer than necessary.

“Then by all means, come in.”

As he said the words, the wall gently slid to one side, revealing a long, steep staircase that led down into darkness. Trepidation flicked through me and I hesitated.

“I will lead if you’d like,” Azriel said softly.

I frowned as I glanced over my shoulder and met his gaze. “You can see in that ink?”

He withdrew Valdis. Her fire flickered across the dull concrete walls and danced through the darkness. “I will sense more than see if anyone nears.”

I stepped to one side and waved him through. No one could ever accuse me of letting valor get the better of sanity—at least not when it came to stepping into dark vampire pits.

He moved into the stairwell, his steps barely audible on the concrete. I followed, keeping close, my fingers itching with the need to reach out and touch him—to keep a physical connection between us as the door silently closed and the shadows pressed close.

The walk down seemed to take forever, but in reality it was only a few minutes before the stairs gave way to a long corridor. The air here was cool and musty, and surprisingly free of the scent of vampire. Black tiles lined the walls and the floor was covered by a dark red rubber matting that swallowed all sound.

Valdis’s bright flame lifted the darkness, revealing the doorway at the far end of the corridor. It was metal and extremely solid. Not something that would be broken down in any great hurry.

I glanced behind me, wondering if our astral-traveling Cazador was still following us.

No, Azriel said. He awaits on the street.

Wonder why?

Azriel shrugged. Maybe Hunter fears that one of the vampires in this place will sense him and give warning.

Maybe. And it was good to know that we weren’t going to be shadowed absolutely everywhere.

The door opened as we approached. The room beyond was small and somewhat intimate in its feel. While the black and red theme continued here, electric wall sconces gave the room a muted warmth and the combination of blackwood furniture and well-padded sofas lent it a feeling of casual elegance. A small desk hugged the right side rear of the room, and behind it sat a woman. Like the room itself, she was black, from the tips of her hair to the leather pumps that were evident underneath the desk.

“Brett Marshall waits for you in the main room, Ms. Jones,” she said in a smoky sort of voice. “Please go in.”

Two doors—which I hadn’t actually noticed until that point—slid silently open at her words, revealing a larger, darker room. The air that wafted out was filled with the aromas of vampire, blood, and hunger. A shiver ran through me as Amaya’s hissing began to filter across the back of my thoughts.

I glanced at Azriel. How many people are there?

A dozen vampires, and at least twenty humans. Distaste ran through his thoughts. They are thralls, and yet not.

I frowned as I walked warily into the darkened room, wondering how someone could be a thrall and yet not. But the question went unanswered. Either Azriel didn’t know or he wasn’t saying.

The former, he said, voice full of censure. You really need to start trusting me more, Risa.

I do trust you—to watch my back and keep me alive. What I don’t trust is that you’re ever going to be completely honest with me.

I have never been dishonest with you.