Fire erupted from her sides, filling the large room with her fierce light. On the opposite side of the room, far closer to the foyer doors than I was, a shadow found form. The vampire was long and lean, with dark hair and pale skin. Not someone I knew, I thought with relief. Not Markel Sanchez, who was one of the Cazadors assigned to follow me astrally. I'd only met him a couple of times, but I had a suspicion that – as far as Cazadors went – he was probably one of the more ethical ones. Not that being ethical would have prevented him from killing Jak had Hunter ordered it. From the little he'd said, even the Cazadors feared incurring Hunter's wrath.
"Stop," I shouted, "or you're fucking dead."
He made a short, sharp noise that sounded a hell of a lot like a laugh – even if a derisive one – and did the exact opposite, crashing through the doors and out into the foyer. I swore and sprinted after him. I hit the half-closed doors a second later, thrusting them back with such force that the top hinges tore free. Glass shattered, glittering with lilac fire as it fell all around me.
The vamp hadn't stopped to call the elevators, but was instead racing for the fire exit. I had a bad feeling that if he made it there, he'd escape. And that meant I had one option, and very little time.
Don't kill him, Amaya. I drew her back and threw her, as hard as I could. She flew like an arrow – albeit a flaming one – and thudded into the vampire's back, her dark blade disappearing into his body, until only her hilt protruded from his flesh. The vampire made a gargled sound, then his legs went out from underneath him and he fell face-first onto the carpet.
I slowed and approached him cautiously. Lilac fire burned where shadowed steel met flesh, but blood crept out from underneath the flames, an ever-growing pool that stained his pristine white shirt. His face, which had borne the brunt of his fall, was also bloody, although I couldn't see just how badly he'd been smashed up given he was still lying facedown. And I wasn't about to go closer or move him, even if he did look dead. Looking dead was something vampires could do extremely well.
Dead not, Amaya said. Arrange can.
We need to question him first. I hesitated. Can he move, or do you have him pinned?
Move not.
Good. Keep it that way. I paused. Azriel, how is Jak?
He only has a few minutes left, Risa. Hurry if you wish to say good-bye.
I scrubbed a hand across stinging eyes, then spun and raced back into the main room. Blue flame flickered in the darkness, Azriel's sword providing enough light to guide me through the office maze, just as Amaya had.
It wasn't until I was near that I realized Azriel wasn't alone. Standing several feet away from Jak's prone body was a white-haired, white-winged female figure. A reaper waiting for Jak's soul to rise. But her form surprised me. Reapers tended to wear the image of someone the soul was most likely to trust, as it made the transition easier. That this reaper had taken on the appearance of an angel meant either Jak was more of a traditionalist than I'd ever figured or that he simply didn't have anyone in his life he ultimately trusted. And that was, in very many ways, sad.
I dropped to my knees beside him. Jak's dark features were pale and etched with pain, his body shuddering and bleeding and… bile rose as my gaze stopped at his stomach. Blood, intestines, and god-knows what else spilled from his stomach, despite his best efforts to stop them.
I briefly closed my eyes, fighting for the strength to remain calm. To not storm back to that vampire and rip his fucking heart out.