Keri Arthur: Darkness Hunts

“Adeline,” I interrupted softly, “I may not get another chance to do this.”

Mainly because I’d been ordered by my father to retrieve a note from Southern Cross Station later this morning, and who the hell knew what would happen after that? But if past retrievals were any indication, then hell was likely to break loose—at least metap be least hysically speaking, if not physically.

She studied me for several minutes, then said, “If you insist, then I must help you, even if it is against my better judgment.”

“Must?” I raised my eyebrows. “That almost sounds like you’ve been ordered to help me.”

“Oh, I have, and by Kiandra herself, no less.” She eyed me thoughtfully. “You have some very powerful allies, young woman.”

Surprise rippled through me. Kiandra—who was head witch at the Brindle—had helped me on several occasions, but only after I’d approached her. That she was now anticipating my needs suggested she knew a lot more about what was going on than I’d guessed. “Did she say why?”

“She said only that your quest has grave implications for us all, and that it behooves us to provide assistance where possible.”

Which suggested that Kiandra did know about the existence of the keys and our effort to retrieve them. And I guess that wasn’t really surprising—surely you couldn’t become the head of all witches without some working knowledge of the fields and the beings that inhabited them.

“Which is why I need to do this now, Adeline.”

She continued to study me, her expression concerned. “What do you know of astral traveling?”

“Not a lot, though I suspect it won’t be that dissimilar to traveling the gray fields.”

“It’s not. Astral travel is simply your consciousness or spirit traveling through earth’s realm, whereas the gray fields are merely the void through which your soul journeys on its way to heaven or hell. But there are a few rules and dangers you should be aware of before we attempt this.”

Having traveled through the gray fields many times, I knew they were hardly a void, as they were where the reapers lived. But I simply said, “There usually are when it comes to anything otherworldly.”

“Yes.” She hesitated. “Thought is both your magic carpet and your foe on the astral plane. If you want to go somewhere, think of the precise location and you will be projected there. By the same token, if you become afraid, you can create an instant nightmare.”

I nodded. She continued. “Be aware that any thought related to your physical body will bring you back to your body. This includes the fear that your physical body may be hurt in some way.”

I frowned. “If I can’t speak or move, how am I going to question my ghost?”

“I didn’t say you can’t move, and you think the questions, the same as you think of the location. Clear?”

“As mud.”

She eyed me for a moment, the concern in her expression deepening. “The astral plane is inhabited by two types of spirits: those who cannot—for one reason or another—move on spiritually, and other astral travelers. And just like walking down the street, you cannot control who’s on the astral fields. But you can be certain that not all will be on the side of the angels.”

“So I should watch my metaphysical ass?”

“Yes. At your current energy levels, you could attract energies who are darker in life, and they may cause you problems on the astral plane or follow you onto this one.”

“I can handle unpleasant energies on this plane. And if I can’t, Azriel can.” I paused. “What of the dangers?”

Her expression darkened. “While you cannot die on the fields themselves, it is possible to become trapped there. It is also possible to become so enraptured by whatever illusion surrounds you on the plane that what happens there can echo through your physical being.”

I frowned. “So if I somehow imagine getting whacked on the plane, my body can be bruised?”

“If the illusion is powerful enough, yes. And if you find yourself entrapped there, you risk death.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Azriel said, before Adeline could, “flesh cannot survive great lengths of time without its soul. And while the astral body is not the entirety of the soul, if you find death when your astral being is not present in your body, then your soul is not complete and cannot move on. You would become one of the lost ones.”

“And here I was thinking it would be a walk in the park.” I swept a hand through my short hair and wished, just once, that something was. “Let’s get this done.”

She glanced past me briefly, then rose. “Come with me, then.”

I followed her out of the living room and down the long hall, my footsteps echoing softly on her wooden floors. Azriel made no sound, although the heat of his presence burned into my spine and chased away the chill of apprehension.

Adeline stopped at the last door on the right and opened it. “Please take your shoes off.”

I did so as she stepped to one side and motioned me to enter. The room was dark and smelled faintly of lavender and chamomile, and my bare feet disappeared into a thick layer of mats and silk.

“Lie down and make yourself comfortable.”

I glanced over my shoulder at Azriel. Though his face was almost classical in its beauty, it possessed the hard edge of a man who’d won more than his fair share of battles. He was shirtless, his skin a warm, suntanned brown and his abs well defined. The worn leather strap that held his sword in place emphasized the width of his shoulders, and the dark jeans that clung to his legs hinted at their lean strength. His stance was that of a fighter, a warrior—one who not only protected me, but had saved me more than once. And would continue to do so, for as long as I was of use to him.

Still, I couldn’t help mentally asking, You’ll be here?

I’ll be here to protect your physical form, yes. His thought ran like sunshine through my mind. I wasn’t telepathic in any way, shape, or form, but that didn’t matter when it came to Azriel. He could hear my thoughts as clearly as the spoken word. Unfortunately, the only time I heard his thoughts was at times like now, when it was a deliberate act on his part. But not on ther ut not e plane. Astral travelers are of this world, not mine, so you are basically little more than a ghost to me. I cannot interact with you in any way.

Reaper rules?

Reaper rules. He hesitated, and something flashed through the mismatched blue of his eyes. Something so bright and sharp it made my breath hitch. Be careful. It would be most . . . inconvenient . . . if you find death on the astral plane.

Inconvenient? I shucked off my jacket and tossed it to one side with a little more force than necessary. Yeah, I guess it would be. I mean, who else would find the damn keys for you if something happened to me?

That, he said, an edge riding his mental tone, is an unfair statement.

Yeah, it was. But goddamn it, if I was an inconvenience to him, then he was a vast source of frustration to me. And on more than one level. Was it any wonder that it occasionally got the better of me and resulted in a snippy remark?

That frustration is shared by us both, Risa.

I glanced at him sharply. His expression was its usual noncommittal self, but the slightest hint of a smile played about his lips. I snorted softly. If he was implying he was as sexually frustrated as me, then he had only himself to blame. After all, he was the one determined to keep our relationship strictly professional now that desire had been acknowledged and acted upon. Although how he could ignore what still burned between us I had no idea. I was certainly struggling with it.

“Risa,” Adeline said softly, “you must lie down before we can proceed.”