"Risa," Marshall said, the sudden sound of his voice making me jump. "You need to step inside. Our first customer will arrive in a few minutes."
Oh god. I closed my eyes for a moment, then, with Amaya spitting fire all over the place, I forced my feet forward and entered the box-room. It was even smaller than it looked, barely big enough to hold two chairs. Interestingly, there was a camera discreetly placed in one corner, and the back wall was not only padded, but had hand grips. I didn't want to know why. I really didn't—but that didn't stop my imagination throwing up all sorts of sick possibilities.
The door whooshed shut and the darkness closed in. As did fear.
"Are you all right?" Azriel asked.
"No, I'm fucking not," I snapped. Amaya's hissing increased, buzzing through my brain like a saw, sharp and hungry. Her fire spilled across the darkness, giving it a creepy glow. I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. It didn't do a whole lot to ease either her noise or the tension and dread roiling around inside me. "Sorry. This isn't your fault."
"No," he agreed. "But that does not mean I cannot help you."
I eyed him for a minute, then said, "How?"
"You do not need to be here to watch. I can do that."
"Nice thought, but there's one problem." I pointed at the camera. "We're not the only ones watching. And we have no idea whether it's Marshall, Hunter, or those fucking councillors behind that camera." Hell, for all I knew, they could be recording everything we said, as well.
"I could find out."
"And what good would knowing do? It doesn't alter the fact that I have to stay here for the entire evening."
He fell silent, but the room beyond suddenly wasn't. The ghosts began to moan, the sound one of agitation and horror. It crawled across my skin like a rash, making me itch. Making me shiver.
Then came the sound of footsteps. Two pairs entering, one leaving. A blood whore being delivered. My stomach began to churn. I couldn't listen to this. I really couldn't.
"Then don't," Azriel said, and touched two fingers to my forehead lightly. "Sleep, Risa. I will guard this night."
"I can't—" But the protest died on my lips. Sleep closed in and I knew no more.