Darkness Falls (DA 7) (21 page)

Ania.

I swore softly. Ania were demons and were usually summoned to perform minor tasks such as harassment or kidnapping, although they apparently weren’t above the odd bit of murder, either. We’d come up against them a number of times already on this damn quest, only on each of
those
occasions, they’d been sent by the Raziq to grab me. This was the first time the dark sorceress had resorted to them, though she
had
flung an odd assortment of other demons at us on various other occasions.

In the corners of the room, the air began to stir, waver. Tension wound through my limbs as I reached back and
drew Amaya. Her hissing scratched at the edges of my mind, and lilac flames shimmered down the edges of her blade, filling the shadows with an eerie light. I rose, the chair scraping across the wooden boards, a sound that was abnormally loud in the thick silence that filled the room.

“Oh shit,” Maggie said abruptly, as all color leeched from her face. “They’re coming.”

And with that, the Ania hit us.

Chapter 7

“Grab Maggie.” Azriel’s expression was grim. “Get her into the back room and keep her safe. I will deal with these things.”

Maggie needed no further urging. She stood up so suddenly her chair crashed backward; then she ran for the back room. I followed but had barely taken three steps when the air between us began to shimmer and the uneasy sensation of magic crawled across my skin. I paused as a wispy figure appeared, then raised Amaya and brought her down, hard. Her sharp point tore through the center of the emerging demon, and her flames wrapped around its remnants almost lovingly, destroying it even as she fed on it.

Two more Ania appeared and surged toward me. I swept Amaya around in a half circle. The demons scattered, left and right, but as the blade whooshed past the tail of the one on the right, setting it aflame, the one on the left darted forward and seized my sword arm. It snarled, revealing several rows of tiny needle-sharp teeth, then bit down on my arm, drawing blood as it gnawed at my flesh like a dog would a bone.

I swore and battered at the thing with my free hand—an action that was instinctive more than useful, because my fist just went straight through the ethereal creature. Amaya hissed in fury and her flames raced over the hilt of the blade, then across my hand, heading for the
demon. Her fiery fingers wrapped around the Ania’s body, wrenching it from my flesh even as she burned it to a crisp.

The air behind me began to crawl, the sensation stronger and fouler than before. I swung around, my grip on Amaya slick with the blood pouring down my arm. To the left of Azriel and the three Ania he fought, a dark and dangerous-looking doorway had begun to form.

It was a type of doorway that I’d seen once before, when the Ania had made their very first appearance in my life.

Our dark sorceress
wasn’t
intending to kill me or even harm me—even if the Ania had gotten a little too enthusiastic on my arm—she was intending to
snatch
me. Maybe she figured that with Lucian gone the only way she would now have any hope of finding the remaining key was if I were under her full control. There was no other logical reason for her wanting me taken.

More Ania began to appear. Lilac flames dripped from Amaya’s point and raced across the wooden floorboards toward them, as if she were eager to wrap the emerging creatures in her heated embrace.

Don’t burn this place down like you did that café,
I said, as the air behind me stirred, warning of another demon’s approach.

Not burn,
Amaya muttered, as if offended I’d even suggest such a thing.
Just eat.

Good.
I swung around and swept Amaya through the tail of a retreating Ania. It screamed and darted back, lashing out with claws that were long and vicious looking. I jumped away, but not fast enough, and its talons tore across my shoulder, breaking flesh and drawing blood. I flicked Amaya from my bloody hand to the other and slashed upward. The Ania fled, but this time,
it
wasn’t quick enough, and Amaya’s dark steel skewered
it. The demon screamed again, but the sound abruptly cut off as my sword devoured it.

Another one hit my leg. I swung Amaya downward, but even as I did, the Ania’s grip tightened and suddenly I was on my butt and being dragged toward the still- forming doorway.

I cursed and swept Amaya across my legs. The sharp edge of her blade became ethereal where demon-forged steel met flesh, leaving me unharmed even as she slid deep into the wispy heart of the Ania. Once again she consumed it with glee, her steel becoming just a little bit heavier.

Then Azriel was standing in front of me, Valdis screaming her fury as he sliced her through the remaining Ania. They exploded, and a second later, the doorway was gone, sucked back into whatever place it had come from.

He sheathed Valdis, then reached down, gripped my arm, and pulled me upright. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from a few scratches, yes. Are the Ania completely gone?”

“For the moment. I doubt it would be wise to attempt to find the sorceress through that cuff link a second time, however.” He pressed his hands against the bloody slashes across my shoulder and the bite marks on my arm. Heat radiated from the epicenter of his touch, and the pain receded as the bleeding stopped and the wound began to heal.

“With that,” Maggie said, as she came out from behind the curtain, “I entirely agree.”

I glanced at her. “Why didn’t the protection stones and spells stop them?”

“Because, as I warned earlier, we are dealing with a dark sorceress. A very canny one, too.”

I frowned. “Meaning what?”

“Meaning the spell she placed on that cuff link was a
transport one, and, through it, she circumvented my spells.”

“By transporting them directly into the room?”

She nodded. “There are ways to protect oneself against such spells, of course, but neither Kiandra nor I had expected such an extreme method of attack.”

“Why is it extreme?” Azriel twined his fingers through mine, squeezing them briefly before releasing me. My wounds—while not completely gone—were little more than a couple of vicious-looking slashes of pink.

“Because it is a spell that severely taxes personal strength. It is very likely your sorceress will be immobilized for the next few hours, at least.”

“But wouldn’t she have called on dark magic to create her spell? Used blood sacrifices and such?” That was why it was called the dark art, after all.

“Yes, but in any magic there is always a personal price to pay. Dark magic, and dark sorcerers, may draw on forces from without themselves, but they can never totally escape the required fee.” Maggie shrugged and held out her hand, palm up. The cuff link gleamed dully in the candlelight. “You had better take this and place it somewhere safe.”

I plucked it from her hand warily. “What is the likelihood of the sorceress using this to attack us again?”

“This attack was probably an all-or-nothing event, and I doubt it will be repeated anytime soon.”

Relief spun through me. “At least that’s something.”

“Yes,” Maggie said, “but I still wouldn’t carry it around with you, as it is entirely possible she could use it to track your location.”

“Given we dare not attempt to find her through it again, would it not be better to destroy it?” Azriel said.

Maggie glanced at him. “Ideally, yes, but I would ask that you not do it here, as its destruction will
undoubtedly release dark energy, and that is not something I desire in my shop.”

He plucked the cuff link from my hand and said, “Then I shall take it onto the fields and destroy it there.”

I nodded and glanced back at Maggie. “Thanks for your help, and I’m sorry that we placed you in danger. We didn’t think—”

She smiled and waved a hand, effectively cutting me off. “I was forewarned about the dangers, so there is no need to apologize. Good luck with your quest.”

“Thanks. I think we’ll need it.”

Maggie unlocked the door and, as we left, took the sign out of the window. I paused on the pavement and glanced to the left. It would have been nice if the market was open—I could have grabbed some much-needed clothes.

“There are retail shops not far from here, are there not?” Azriel said, ever practical.

“Yes, but it would have been cheaper here.” And not only did I
not
want to waste good money on clothes that would only get destroyed by either becoming Aedh or in whatever upcoming battles the fates had planned, but I didn’t feel up to fighting the crowds that were undoubtedly there. “But I can’t run around in borrowed clothes all day, so down there I will go.”

“Will you return to your office once you have secured some fresh clothing?”

“Yes.” I squinted up at him. “Why? It shouldn’t take that long to destroy one cuff link, should it?”

“It shouldn’t, but I am not familiar with dark magic and have no idea what it might involve.” He shrugged. “Call me if you need me, or if you feel the slightest inkling of danger.”

“I will.”

He half disappeared, then paused, his gaze narrowing
as he said, “And don’t do anything stupid while I’m away.”

I grinned. “Damn, and here I was planning to go offer a certain bitch a prime seat on the express coach to hell.”

“I would call that comment sarcastic, except for the fact that you are more than a little capable of such an action if the right buttons were pushed.”

I held up my hands.
I promise, no attacking Hunter—or anyone else for that matter—until you get back to hold my hand.

“Good.” And with that, he finally left.

I spun on my heel and headed for Bourke Street and Myer. By the time I’d skimmed quickly through the department store and bought enough clothes to last a few days, then caught a cab back to the café, several hours had past.

Azriel reappeared just as I dumped all my parcels onto my desk. “That cuff link,” he said heavily, “proved to be a very difficult item to destroy.”

I raised my eyebrows as I turned to face him. “Meaning you couldn’t just give it a whack with Valdis?”

“Valdis is very put out by your use of such a term,” he said, amused. “She wishes to inform you she is far more refined than that.”

Refined,
Amaya noted.
Me not.

I couldn’t help grinning. She might not be refined, but she sure as hell was developing a wickedly dry sense of humor. “So how did you get rid of it?”

“In the end, we didn’t. I simply dumped it in the one place she’s not likely to go looking for it—hell.”

“What?” I said. “Why the fuck would you risk opening the last gate just to get rid of a sorcerer’s cuff link?”

“I didn’t, which is why it took me so long. I waited until it needed to be opened to allow a soul to go through. The reaper escorting said soul was appreciative of the extra protection.”

I blinked. “You know,” I said slowly, “I hadn’t even thought about what losing the first two gates actually
meant
for reapers. All I’ve really focused on was the fact there was now only one gate standing between us and hell.”

“Or, more precisely, one gate and at least several Mijai.” Azriel’s expression was somber, and with good reason. Mijai numbers had never been huge, but with hell’s spawn escaping daily, their resources were being stretched to the breaking point. “In this instance, there was a bigger-than-normal breakout not long before the soul and guide arrived, and the Mijai stationed there were dealing with that.”

“And it isn’t a situation that will change anytime soon, even if we find the key and spoil the plans of everyone who wants it, is it?” I said. “The remnants might have said they can train reapers to become priests, but I’m thinking that’s not going to be a quick process.”

“It won’t be, which is why I cannot forsake my duties as a Mijai, even to be with you, as much as I might wish. I cannot stand back and watch others fight—and perhaps die—in my place.”

A sentiment I’d repeated often enough myself, so I could hardly say anything against it in this case. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was only four in the afternoon. So much had happened since Hunter’s phone call this morning that it seemed odd that only eight hours had passed rather than ten or twelve.

“Let us be grateful that it’s
not
ten or twelve,” Azriel commented, voice grim. “Hunter’s deadline is tight enough as it is.”

Yes, it was. I grabbed some fresh clothes out of the bags, then said, “I’m off for a shower.” I hesitated, then added, with an enticing, hopeful sort of smile, “I don’t suppose you want to join me?”

“I would
love
to join you.” Amusement and desire
briefly warred for center stage in the bright depths of his eyes. “However, I do not think it wise right now.”

“Well, damn,” I muttered, even though I really hadn’t expected any other answer. “You do realize all these missed opportunities are going on the tab, and I do expect you to pay the bill once all this crap is over with.”

“It will be my great pleasure to do so.”

“And mine, I would hope.”

“Undoubtedly. Now, go, before my desire gets the better of wisdom.”

I grinned, spun around, and headed for the shower. Twenty minutes later, feeling a lot fresher and wearing sensible jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers, I returned to the office—just in time to answer my phone.

“Uncle Rhoan,” I said, as his image appeared on the vid-screen. “There’s not a problem, is there?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “Unless, of course, you’ve decided to do something daft without consulting me.”

“Anyone would think I make a habit of doing dumb things with the way you lot carry on.” My voice held an edge that was both amusement and frustration. “I take it you didn’t just call to check up on me?”

“No, I didn’t, although it is a tempting thought.” Humor creased the corners of his bright eyes. “I’m just reporting back with the search results of that phone you handed me.”

“Oh good,” I said, having completely forgotten about it. I had to wonder whether said forgetfulness was the result of having too much on my plate, or simply pregnancy brain kicking in. I might not be that far along, but from what Mom had said, her brain had pretty much gone to mush for the whole term of her pregnancy.