Darkness Splintered (DA 6) (7 page)

He was lying within arm’s reach, his clothes shredded but his flesh whole. And he was breathing.

Relief spun through me, but I didn’t entirely relax. I reached out and poked him with a stiffened finger. “Jak? You okay?”

“No, I’m fucking
not
.” His voice was raw and somewhat shaky. “You just tore my whole body down to atoms and then re-formed it. To say I feel like shit is something of an understatement.”

“Welcome to my usual state of being,” I muttered, my gaze sweeping the room again. Given the mess and destruction, it was likely that if there
had
been clues here, they would have been destroyed. But I still had to look.

At least I would when I no longer felt like throwing up.

“Why the hell would you put yourself through something like that?” Jak raised a hand and scrubbed his forehead rather gingerly. “I mean, it
hurts
.”

“Better that than being dead.” I carefully pushed up into a sitting position, but no amount of care could stop my stomach from leaping into my throat. I swallowed heavily and added, “And that was our only other option. Just look at the walls.”

He cracked open an eye, and swore fluently. “To repeat an earlier question, why the hell would someone do that? It could have been anyone walking through that door.”

“Which is why the magic checked us out first.”

He glanced at me. “It did?”

“Yeah.” My stomach was beginning to settle again, although the madmen in my head didn’t seem too inclined to follow suit. I nevertheless stood upright, and held out a hand. “Need some help getting up?”

“Yes.” His fingers gripped mine. I couldn’t help noticing the slight tremor in them. “Although I have to say, the view from this angle isn’t half bad.”

I glanced down as I hauled him upright. My sweater had not come through the second shift at all well. Not only had I lost a sleeve, but there was a gaping hole down my left side that exposed one breast. And my jeans weren’t in much better shape, hanging on my body in shredded bits.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” I commented. “And your clothes haven’t fared much better.”

“No,” he muttered, glancing down. “Although it does explain the sudden feeling of freedom.”

I half laughed – which I regretted the moment the madmen in my head sprang into action with their pokers – and released Jak’s hand. “I think you’d better stay here while I check —”

“No way on god’s green earth,” he cut in. “If I’d hung back last time, I’d be dust like those walls. Consider me your shadow until we get out of this place.”

I couldn’t exactly argue given it was totally true. I took a careful step. The air stirred, and the hairs at the back of my neck rose.

Something else
was
here.

I stopped and scanned the room again. The dangling electrical wires swayed lightly, even though the place was hushed and the air up here still.

The images of snakes rose again. I swore under my breath and drew Amaya. She began to hum with excitement and flames flickered down the edges of her steel.

“Drawing your sword is
not
a good sign,” Jak said. “What can you see that I can’t?”

“Moving electrical wires.”

“Electrical wires?
Seriously?
”

“I’m afraid so.”

I took another step. The swaying got stronger. It was almost as if they were attempting to grab us. My skin crawled and I quickly swiped at the nearest one. It plopped to the ground and didn’t move.

Not that it should. I mean, it was electrical
wire
.

“You don’t think you’re overreacting, do you?” Jak’s breath was warm against the back of my neck. He might not believe the wiring presented a threat, but he still wasn’t taking any chances.

“Can you feel a breeze?” I swung Amaya around as another piece of wiring snapped toward us. It retreated.

Definitely
not
the behavior of inert wiring.

“No, but —”

“Then tell me why the hell those wires are moving like they are.”

“I’m sure there’s a reasonable answer, but fucked if I can think of it right now.” He paused. “Maybe we should leave?”

“What makes you think whatever magic inhabits these wires doesn’t also inhabit the ones that control the elevator?”

“There are stairs —” He yelped and jumped, cannoning into me and sending me sprawling forward.

I caught my balance and swung around, Amaya ablaze in my hand. Jak was jumping around like a madman, frantically pulling at the piece of wire slithering up his leg. It was the piece I’d sliced moments earlier.

Amaya, destroy that thing
–
but don’t hurt Jak!

Won’t,
she said, as flames leapt from her blade to Jak’s leg. He yelped again, and raised a hand to batter her away, but I grabbed it.

“She won’t burn you,” I said. “Just stay still.”

“There are flames near my
nuts
,” he shouted, his expression one of horror. “You stay still —”

“Jak,” I cut in harshly. “Trust me.”

His gaze flashed to mine; then he gulped and stopped moving. Sweat beaded his forehead as Amaya’s flames wrapped almost lovingly around the two-foot snake of wiring stretching from just below his knee up to his groin. When the last of the snake was covered, her flames flared briefly, then disappeared. The snake was gone, and there was little evidence of its presence on Jak other than a few scorch marks on his jeans.

Magic bitter,
Amaya commented.
Hate made.

Lauren for sure, then. I still had to wonder why, though. It made little sense for anyone to want me dead, even if Lauren
did
want revenge for Lucian’s death. Unless, of course, both she and the other sorcerer – if indeed there
was
another sorcerer; we still weren’t entirely sure about that, despite the fact it had definitely been a male who’d snatched the first key from me – had decided they were happy enough having two of the three hell gates open. I guess, if nothing else, it would make accessing hell’s minions a whole lot easier for them.

Although the effort-to-reward ratio seemed way out of whack to me. But then, we were talking about a pair of dark sorcerers. Maybe they planned to hold the world for ransom or something equally insane.

I released Jak’s hand. “You okay?”

He took a deep breath, then nodded. “What the hell are we going to do about the wiring? Severing it doesn’t stop it, and there’s too much hanging down for us to do a proper search of the room without risk.”

“True.” I turned around.
Amaya, are you able to burn a path between here and the bed?

She didn’t answer, but flames leapt from her blade, shooting forward, creating a six-foot-wide avenue between us and the bed. The remaining wiring shivered and snapped, as if in anger or frustration.

Another chill ran down my spine. There was no way in hell I was going to use the elevator to get out of this place.

With our path clear, we moved forward. The bed had borne the brunt of the explosion, and was little more than a blackened, twisted mass of frame, springs, and fabric remnants. If there
had
been something hidden within it, it was unlikely to have survived.

I checked the remnants anyway, and found precisely what I’d expected – nothing.

I bit back a frustrated curse and looked around the rest of the room. Where would Lucian have hidden something if not in the bed?

“If I’d wanted to secure something,” Jak commented, “I would have chosen the loo.”

I shot him a glance. “Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s the last place anyone thinks to look.”

It was certainly a place that would have appealed to Lucian’s warped sense of humor. I cleared more wiring snakes, then walked across to the remnants of the bathroom. Surprisingly, the glass wall had held up well, as had the toilet, which had been positioned behind it.

“Try the tank first,” Jak said. “It’s been plumbed in, so anywhere else would have caused an obstruction.”

I unscrewed the flush button, then lifted the lid off the tank. And there, attached to the plunger, was a small plastic-wrapped envelope.

“Bingo,” I said softly, and pulled it free. I handed Jak the lid, then unwrapped the envelope, slicing it open with a fingertip, then carefully unfolding the piece of paper inside.

It read “-37.76759373693766, 144.88306045532227.”

“Coordinates,” Jak said, looking over my shoulder. “Latitude and longitude, I’d guess.”

“If you’re right, then
for
what?
is the next big question.” I flipped the bit of paper over, but there was nothing else written on it.

“Why don’t I Google it and find out?” He reached into his pocket and frowned. “What the hell…?”

He drew out his hand and held it out, palm up. A collection of broken bits of metal and plastic sat within it. The remains of his phone, I knew without asking. I closed my eyes and cursed again. In the rush to get out of the way of the blast, I’d totally forgotten
anything
metal not touching flesh would be shredded. Which meant not only
his
phone, but mine too
and
my keys.

“Sorry, that’s my fault.”

His gaze jumped to mine, and after a moment, he said, “That change thing?”

“Yeah. Metal not touching flesh doesn’t get re-formed.”

“Meaning we’ll have to go somewhere else to decipher the clue.” He paused, and a sudden, somewhat cheeky smile touched his lips. “My place is nice and close. And I probably still have some of your clothes hanging around.”

I blinked. “Why the hell would you still have those?”

He shrugged. “Couldn’t be bothered throwing them out. And it wasn’t like they were taking up a whole lot of space.”

“I bet that must have pleased the hell out of the girlfriends that followed me.”

“It wasn’t a problem because there weren’t any. Only bed partners.”

I snorted. “You seriously expect me to believe —”

“Yes, because it’s true.” His gaze held mine. “My work may be the most important thing in my life, then
and
now, but you were, believe it or not, the next best thing.”

“Being the next best isn’t exactly a compliment,” I noted dryly. “And it doesn’t exactly explain why you’ve had no girlfriends since.”

“Ours wasn’t the first relationship I wrecked over a story, but it
was
the last. I decided it was better for everyone if I just didn’t go there.”

I stared at him for a minute. “Good god, was that a touch of remorse in your voice?”

“More an acknowledgment that forming attachments to get a story probably isn’t the best way to go about things.”

Which was probably as close to a sorry as I was ever likely to get. I folded the piece of paper and slipped it into my pocket. “You could have decided that before you printed the story about my mom and destroyed what we had.”

“No, I couldn’t have.”

Because it had taken that destruction for him to see the light – although I had no doubt the threats from Uncle Rhoan, Aunt Riley, and Ilianna had also played a part. They’d certainly prevented him from printing the remaining part of the story. “I can see you becoming a very lonely old man.”

“Not lonely, because there has never been a lack of partners. Just alone.”

Meaning he’d faired better in the after-relationship sex stakes than
I
had. At least until Lucian and Azriel had come along to liven things up.

“Your place, then.” I paused. “Are you parked somewhere very close? And do you still keep your spare key taped under the rear wheel arch?”

“Yeah, but why…?” He stopped, and tucked a hand into his other pocket. What came out was a handful of metal shards. “Well, shit.”

I glanced down, amusement touching my lips. “There’s also the free willy problem.”

“I don’t see it as much of a problem, but I agree that others might.” He grinned. “So, do we make a mad dash and hope no one notices?”

“Wiring snakes aside, my clothes won’t stand up to a mad dash. I’ll get us out of here, but you’ll have to bring the car around to the building’s entrance.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He turned sideways and waved me forward grandly. “After you, my dear.”

We carefully retreated. Amaya’s steel was quivering by the time we made the stairs, so it was with some relief that I realized not only had the wiring in the stair shaft remained unaffected by the blast, but also by the magic.

When we reached the foyer, Jak pulled off the remains of his sweater and wrapped it around his waist, effectively hiding the ventilation spots around his balls.

I waited until he’d left, then said, “Reaper, show yourself.”

For several seconds there was no response; then heat washed across my skin and the reaper appeared. He wasn’t what I’d expected – although I’m not entirely sure what I
had
been expecting.

I mean, he, like Azriel, was of medium height, with warm brown skin and mismatched blue eyes, but his hair was a rich honey color rather than black, and there was a multitude of scars crisscrossing his chest and well-muscled arms. Another scar stretched from just below his right temple to his chin. He also bore two swords rather than one.

What surprised me, though, was his expression. It was positively hostile.

“What do you wish?” His voice was cold. Unforgiving.

I eyed him warily. “Do you intend to intervene if I get into trouble?”

“I am here to keep you safe until the keys are found,” he said. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Meaning, I suspected, that he would keep his distance and be totally unsociable. Azriel might have done the latter when he’d first appeared, but never the former. “What of Azriel?”

He crossed his arms. “We all bear the name of Azriel to those of flesh.”

Animosity practically oozed from his pores. Why? What in the hell was going on? “You know who I mean.”

“Perhaps I do. And perhaps it is none of your business.”

“But it
is
my business. I don’t —”
…
want my child growing up like I did
–
not knowing anything about his father
. But I swallowed the words, not wanting to admit something that personal to a stranger – especially such a hostile one.