Darkness Unmasked (DA 5) (23 page)

I glanced at Azriel as he appeared beside me. “Can you sense anything inside?”

“There is life in the first two apartments; nothing in the other two.”

“Are there any bodies?”

“If death occurred some time ago, as you suspect, I would not sense it. A soul’s resonance does not last beyond a few days in this world, unless they become one of the lost ones.”

“So if Shard is dead in there, this death was meant to be?”

“Yes.”

I studied the building a minute longer, but I was only delaying the inevitable. “Right. Let’s go.”

I wrapped my fingers around my keys and phone and called to the Aedh. Once I’d changed form, I moved across the road, hesitating briefly to study the names on the intercom before slipping through the small gap between the door and the floor. Flat one, according to the directory, was up on the first floor. Shard’s flat was the only one on that floor. I went in.

At first glance, there didn’t seem to be anything wrong. The place was tidy, but not overly so. There was a small stack of mail sitting—unopened—on a glass side table near the door, dishes draining on the sink in the kitchen, and laundry sitting in the basket in the small laundry room. There was nothing that immediately jumped up and screamed “problem.” Not until I went into the bedroom, anyway.

Because the entire room had become one gigantic web. Even though I was little more than particles, it seemed to cling to me, making me feel itchy and sending horror coursing through me. I backed away faster than I’d ever done before—in either form—and returned to the relative safety of the doorway.

I hadn’t noticed any motion sensors in the flat, so I shifted back to flesh form. Dizziness swept me, and I had to grab the doorframe to steady myself—but the pain that slithered through me was next to nothing when compared to the state I was usually in after a shift. I might not know what Malin had done to me, but if this lack of pain was one of the side effects, then I couldn’t entirely be sorry about it.

The cobweb hung from one side of the room to the other, the gossamer strands shining like gilded silver in the evening light filtering in through the bedroom window. Little white pods hung in various corners, but all of them were split open and empty of contents. I couldn’t be sorry about that, considering what they’d probably held was spiders. Lots and lots of baby black spiders. Goose bumps fled across my skin, and I rubbed my arms, trying without succeeding to warm the chill from them. Even Azriel re-forming behind me couldn’t do anything about that.

Di Shard lay on the bed. Or what remained of her did, anyway. Like the two male victims we’d seen, she was wrapped in spiderweb and her skin was like parchment—brittle and almost translucent. The only difference was, she didn’t have just two slashes in her abdomen. Instead, her body was littered with little cuts. Tiny cuts. As if they’d been made by the fangs of thousands of little black spiders.

Another shiver ran through me. I could only hope she’d been dead when they’d begun consuming her.

“Well,” I said eventually, “this really doesn’t tell us much.”

“Other than the fact that she has been dead for at least a week.” His hand rested lightly on my hip, the touch comforting rather than sexual.

My gaze swept the room again, but there wasn’t much to find in the way of clues. “Why would she be consuming the men herself, but leave the women for her young?”

“She would probably need to keep her own strength up if she is in a breeding phase.”

“Any idea how long that phase is likely to be?”

“No. As I have said before, I normally do not hunt spirits.” He half shrugged, a movement I felt rather than saw. “But her actions so far suggest she is not working purely from instinct, but rather from intelligence.”

I glanced up at him. “Meaning not all dark spirits are capable of logic?”

“There are levels of spirits, just as there are levels of demons. This one is obviously one of the higher ones.”

“So the Rakshasa we hunted would be have been considered a higher-level spirit?”

“Yes. Although perhaps not as high as the spirit we seek here, because she could not ignore the call of the ghosts.”

“Does that mean she won’t be hunting tonight? I mean, she knows we’re looking for her after this afternoon’s events.”

“Yes, but remember, she is also in breeding mode. That is an imperative not even intelligence can ignore.” His grip tightened on my hip, and the tension suddenly evident in his touch echoed through my being. “We should go. Someone comes.”

“Who?”

He hesitated, then said, “Directorate. Your uncle.”

I swore softly, called to the Aedh, and hoped like hell that I hadn’t been in human form long enough for my scent to linger in the air. And thanked whatever gods that happened to be listening that I’d parked my bike around the corner rather than directly opposite the apartment as I’d first planned.

I swept out as Uncle Rhoan walked in. He hesitated, as if he’d sensed me, but I just kept going. Hanging around to see if he actually
had
would not have been a bright idea.

“What do you wish to do now?” Azriel said, the minute I re-formed beside the Ducati.

I grabbed my helmet and shoved it on. “Go home and make mad, passionate love to you.”

Amusement touched his lips, and desire flared briefly around me, bathing my skin with its warmth.

“That is something I would not find unpleasant.” His voice was even despite the desire that pulsed between us. “I suspect, however, you merely tease.”

“You suspect right. We need to check out Summer’s place before my uncle beats us to it.” Hell, for all I knew, he already
had
. Maybe there was a cleanup team there right now, photographing, cataloging, and pulling apart any clues that might be left. I had no doubt that Summer had suffered the same fate as Shard.

I flipped the helmet’s visor down. “I’ll see you there.”

He nodded and disappeared. I booted up the bike and headed across town. Thankfully, peak hour had eased now that night was setting in, and it was definitely more pleasant to be on the Ducati. At least I could weave my way through the traffic without having to worry about some impatient motorist suddenly swinging into my lane.

One twenty Newman Street turned out to be one of those modern, split-level town houses that had been popular with the upwardly mobile about fifty years ago. This one was showing its age more than most, the redbrick darkening with grime and the concrete portions showing remnants of past graffiti attacks. Still, it was in better shape than some of its neighbors, which looked to have been abandoned for many years—decidedly odd given how close to the city Kensington was. At the very least, a developer should have stepped in and purchased the land because it would have been worth a fortune if developed properly.

And maybe I was thinking about
that
sort of nonsense rather than contemplating what might be waiting inside.

I glanced around. There weren’t any Directorate cars about, and nobody seemed to be watching, so I shifted shape and silently made my way into the town house. Summer’s place, like Shard’s, looked lived in—there was an empty dinner plate sitting on the coffee table, a mug with a tea bag sitting ready near the kettle in the kitchen, and clothes in the dryer, ready to be pulled out. For all intents and purposes, it looked as if someone were living here. And maybe they were. Maybe this was where our dark spirit had made her lair. Which meant that maybe this was where all those tiny spiders were living . . . My gaze jumped to the ceiling, but it was free of movement or threat. There wasn’t even a spiderweb decorating any of the corners.

Which didn’t mean there weren’t any in the bedroom.

The bedroom door was closed, and there was no way in hell I was going to slip underneath it until I knew for sure what waited on the other side. I shifted back to flesh form, then flexed my fingers and made my feet move forward. As I gripped the door handle, I closed my eyes and sent a brief prayer to whatever gods might be listening that there wouldn’t be anything untoward waiting beyond this door.

But, as usual, they had the
IGNORE
button pressed when it came to me.

What lay inside wasn’t only the biggest damn spiderweb I’d ever seen, but a goddamn army of little black crawly things.

I jumped back, a squeak of fear escaping my lips, and hit Azriel so hard that I actually forced him back a step before his hands gripped my arms and he steadied us both.

“Her nest,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “But I suspect it is not her only one.”

I swallowed heavily, my gaze on the ceiling and all the critters up there. There was no way in
hell
I was getting any closer to that room. They didn’t appear to have noticed me, and I had no inclination to change that situation. “What makes you say that?”

“These spiders are larger than the ones who attacked us and therefore more likely to be older.”

That a dark spirit was capable of having more than one cache of babies was something I did
not
want to think about. I forced my gaze from the creepy-crawlies and studied the body on the bed—although to call it a body was something of a misnomer. The other victims we’d seen might have been little more than preserved skin, but there wasn’t even
that
much left of Summer. Just some dark hair on the pillow and a few bits of what looked like nails and bone remnants.

A shudder ran through me. Azriel rubbed my arms, but the heat of his touch did little to combat the chill.

“Why would she have more than one lot of babies?” I asked. “And if she does, why the hell aren’t we overrun with spiderlike dark spirits here on earth?”

“I would suggest the reason is because they’re cannibalistic.”

“What?”

“Look at the carpet. It is littered with carcasses.”

He was right. It was. In fact, the remnants of little black bodies were so thick that the gray carpet looked like patchwork. “So she kills the victims to feed her young, but when the young get old enough, they feed on one another? How does that make sense?”

“It would ensure only the strongest of them survive. It is not unusual behavior.”

“Maybe in your world, but not in mine,” I muttered. I knew that there were some animal species where the young
did
eat one another, but only if there wasn’t another food source, and it was generally rare.

“Children are not as common in my world as yours and therefore somewhat revered.” His voice held a hint of censure. “We certainly would
not
allow them to harm one another in
any
way.”

Which wasn’t what I meant and he knew it. But I let it slide and glanced up at him. “I thought reapers lived in big family groups?”

“We do.”

“Then why would children be rare? Do you suffer the same sort of problem that has killed off most of the Aedh?”

“No. Aedh breed only when their death is imminent, which kept their numbers stable for millennia. No one can say what changed, but we think the Raziq had a lot to do with it.”

That raised my eyebrows. “They killed off their own kind?”

“They believe in their cause and would certainly be capable of wiping out all opposition. In this case, that would mean those who tended and believed in the current viability of the gates.”

“All of which doesn’t explain why reapers don’t breed willy-nilly.”

He hesitated. “It is a combination of our long life spans and the fact that our recharge partners aren’t always our Caomhs.”

“Can you have both?”

“Rarely. And if a reaper only ever finds his recharge companion, he will not be blessed with children.”

“And have you any children?” I asked, curious and perhaps a little . . . afraid. Because if he had children, that would mean he’d met his Caomh, which in turn meant there was never any hope for us.

Not that there ever really was.

His expression closed over. “I am not the Aedh, Risa. I do not want or need multiple partners. If I had a Caomh waiting in the fields for me, I would not be with you.”

Summarily—though gently—chastised, I pulled my gaze from his and stepped back onto safer ground. “So what do you suggest we do about these spiders? Do we leave them, keep watch on the apartment, or what?”

“You do not wish to call your uncle?”

I hesitated. “How likely are the spiders to attack anyone who enters that room?”

“Very. Their hunger stings the air.”

“So why aren’t they attacking us?”

“Because we have not entered their lair.”

And I had no fucking intention of doing so. “Can they be destroyed by something like pest spray, guns, or even fire?”

“Not ordinary fire. Though they wear flesh, they are spirit in design. Witches would more than likely be capable of destroying them, but not someone like your uncle.”

Which meant I either had to ring Rhoan and warn him—and get the shit blasted out of me for interfering in his case again—or get rid of the damn things myself. Great. Just fucking great.

Can kill,
Amaya said with an eagerness that had me shaking my head.
Will enjoy.

No doubt. I glanced up at Azriel again, and he nodded a confirmation. “It will not draw our dark spirit to us, though. She obviously does not look after her young any more than the initial feeding.”

“So how come we were attacked at the club? She wouldn’t have had time to lay her eggs, let alone for the things to hatch. She was only the fill-in entertainer.”

“She may have been carrying some young on her. Do not some spiders do that?”

“None that I want to meet,” I replied, with another shudder. I drew Amaya and held her in front of me. Lilac fire raced down her sides, and her eagerness ran through the back of my mind. “Go for it.”

She did. Fire exploded from her tip and spread out in a deadly wash that consumed all that stood in front of it without actually burning the walls or ceiling. The fire alarms went off regardless, but their strident ringing was almost lost to the roar of Amaya’s flames. The thick web shriveled against the onslaught of heat, dripping in silver globules onto the carpet. The spiders tried to flee, attacking one another as they scrambled to seek refuge from the flames. Only there was no refuge—Amaya devoured everything. Web, spiders, furniture. Even Summer’s few remains fell victim to her hunger.