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She ripped free with a scream that seemed to echo all the pain and fury that filled me, and formed shape, growing and expanding as she hurtled toward Taylor.
I felt his shock as strongly as if it were my own; then the steel assault stopped and he began to fade—but nowhere near quickly enough to escape. The Dušan whipped across the shadows and wrapped around him, coiling so tightly she would have snapped bones if he’d actually been wearing flesh.
He screamed then, and began to struggle, but to little avail. The hunter had finally been snared.
I blew out a relieved breath, and lowered Amaya as I walked toward him. Fury battered me, but it was tinged now with fear. His fear, not mine.
It felt good.
There’s one thing you don’t know about me, Taylor, I said softly. I’m not human.
His fear increased. God, it was so sweet. No, you’re not. You’re a werewolf.
Oh, I’m much more than that, I’m afraid. I’m what the reapers are—a being of energy rather than just flesh and blood. Remember mentioning that my control was greater than most on this realm? Well, that’s because this place is far more mine than it will ever be yours.
If he’d had a face, I think his eyes would have been wide and staring. I stepped closer to him and stopped.
This is for Dorothy, I said. As well as Vonda and Dani Belmore, and all the other countless women you’ve killed over your many years of hunting.
He snarled and spat at me. I sidestepped, and the globule landed near Amaya’s point, hissing like acid.
Do your worst, he snapped. I will be reborn, and I will remember. Fear for the future, huntress, because I will be back.
I snorted. I may fear for my future, Taylor, but it won’t be because of anything you might or might not do—because you won’t be doing anything. We’re in the umbra, remember. Death here is final.
He screamed then. Screamed long and loud and fearfully.
I raised Amaya and killed him.
Chapter 15
I rose through the levels of consciousness slowly, gradually becoming aware of the sounds and scents that surrounded me.
They were not pleasant scents. Not to the sensitive nose of a wolf, anyway. Antiseptic mingled with the smells of the dying and the diseased, creating a veil of misery and pain that permeated not only the air but the very foundations of the building. The minute I became aware of them, they became a weight that pressed down on my chest and made it difficult to breathe.
I was in a goddamn hospital. God, I had to get out of here, had to move—
A hand caught mine. Warm, familiar, feminine hands. Ilianna, not Azriel.
“It’s okay,” she said softly. “You’re okay, Risa.”
“No, I’m not.” My voice cracked, and my throat felt raw. I opened my eyes. Ilianna smiled, but there was little disguising the worry in her expression. Not out of the woods yet, obviously. “I’m in a goddamn hospital, so how the hell can I be okay?”
“You’re alive, and that’s pretty amazing considering all you’ve been through.”
She poured a glass of water, then offered it to me, straw first. I tried to lift my head, but it suddenly seemed heavier than a thousand bricks. She tilted the cup a little more, and managed to get some moisture down my throat.
I closed my eyes for a moment, then asked, “Where’s everyone else?”
“Tao and I have been taking turns sitting by your side. He headed to the café about twenty minutes ago.”
I frowned. Even that hurt. “How long have I been out?”
“Five days—longer than Rhoan, in fact.”
Relief hit, so thick and fast tears stung my closed eyelids. “He’s alive?”
It was an inane question—if he was awake he was obviously alive—but I still wanted her to say the words.
