Blood Before Sunrise (17 page)

“Sidhe are the oldest of the Fae lineage. Their magic is the strongest too. Time hasn’t been kind to the nonhuman population, Darian. But the Sidhe have held on to their ways and shunned humanity for the most part. They’ve got power and then some. Are you sure you want to get involved with them?”

No, but it was too late now to rethink my decisions. “Honestly, Levi, I don’t plan on making friends. Besides, I’m only interested in two Sidhe. A sister and brother called Moira and Reaver.”

Levi let out a low whistle. “Might as well douse yourself in gasoline and light the match, Darian. Why in the hell would you want to tangle with them?”

Oh fucking
fuck
. How did I always manage to pick the baddest of the bad to get involved with? I couldn’t tell Levi why I was interested in the siblings. Letting everyone in the city know I was out to steal from them wouldn’t exactly help me in the burglary department. But I had to know who and what I was up against. Fallon’s request smelled like a trap. Either that or he knew it was a suicide mission and was hoping I’d at least get my hands on the merchandise before they killed me. In which case, he wouldn’t need to bother with Delilah or lifting the spell. “Levi, I gave you a shitload of cash. Let
me worry about my own ass. Moira and Reaver,” I said slowly, “tell me about them.”

Levi sighed and looked around as if afraid someone might overhear our conversation. “From what I’ve heard, Moira is the more dangerous of the two. She’s got a lot of magic up her sleeve. A Healer, I believe. And a Herald.”

“What’s that?”

“A Herald is someone who can talk to the dead or the crossed over. Most of the supernatural don’t view death as a finality. They tend to see it as an evolution or a passing into another realm. They don’t harbor the spiritual existence as a joining with God or going to heaven. Think Avalon. You don’t
die
die. You just leave this realm, and your soul takes up residence somewhere else. But I guess I don’t have to tell you that.”

I knew Shaedes didn’t believe in conventional death. Xander said our physical bodies might die, but we would forever live in shadow. And apparently this Moira could speak to our dearly departed brethren. “What about Reaver?”

Levi leaned close. “Reaver is called the Keeper.”

I knew that much already. “Do you know what he keeps?”

Levi gave a nervous chuckle. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

Well, I knew something Levi didn’t. The thing that Reaver “kept” was the exact thing Fallon wanted me to steal. If Levi was corroborating Fallon’s information—that Reaver was, in fact, the Keeper—then at least I knew he hadn’t been playing me. It didn’t matter that Levi didn’t know what the Sidhe kept. Fallon knew. “Do you know where they live? How I can find them?”

“I don’t know about Moira, but I’ve heard Reaver likes to hang out at a place called Atlas. It’s a high-end, private club. Caters to nonhuman clientele only. Very exclusive.”

“Where is it?”

“Don’t quote me on this, but I think it’s underground. Industrial District, maybe. They’re only open at night;
watch for the flow of luxury traffic—should lead you right to him.”

I left The Pit a thousand dollars lighter but rich with information. Levi was good for it, I had no doubt. That preppy bastard knew more about the supernatural world than I did. The waterfront called, and I was itching to check out the Industrial District for any sign of the esoteric supernatural hangout, but the gray-streaked eastern sky told me I’d have to wait another eighteen or so hours before I could begin my quest for the Keeper.

Sandpaper would have been softer than my eyelids as I blinked. God, I was tired.

I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in…I couldn’t even remember how long. When this was all over and done with, I was going to sleep for a month. I headed toward downtown and my apartment, when the sound of wings flapping drew my attention. As I looked skyward, a golden red form swooped down, nearly clipping my head with its talons. A falcon, the same falcon that had given me the pendulum, dove and spun, twisting in midair and digging at my pocket while it beat against me with its wings.

Insistent shit,
I thought as I batted it away. Gaining altitude, the falcon regrouped and began anew, clawing at my pocket and tugging with a swift flapping of wings. I fought the bird off with my left hand while my right ventured to my pocket, which had begun to grow warm. Strange. Since I’d returned from my little field trip, the gem had been dormant, its warmth and otherworldly light seeming to have disappeared. But with the appearance of the falcon, it had awoken. The emerald pendulum pulsed with bright green light as I drew it out into the open air, watching as it swung to and fro before my eyes. With a parting screech, the falcon soared into the sky and out of sight. Guess it had delivered its message.

Two days I’d been gone the last time I had allowed myself to become drawn into the pendulum. And I’d kept the damned thing tucked in my pocket ever since.
But I pulled it out of its hiding place and stared into its depths anyway, unable to tear my gaze from the fathomless green light. The gem swung toward me, pulled by some unknown force of gravity, and I leaned toward the light, mesmerized by the sudden peace and unequivocal quiet it offered. Seconds slowed, the pulsing beat of time came nearly to a halt, and I felt a strange tug at my center, urging me toward something I couldn’t identify. I allowed my eyes to drift shut, and when I opened them again, I no longer stood on the gray Seattle streets but at the top of the knoll, looking down into the green valley and at the dark-haired woman who waited for me.

Chapter 15

A
nother blink of my eyes and I no longer stood on the knoll. Without taking a step, I’d appeared in the valley below, standing face-to-face with a woman I recognized and yet didn’t know.

This was the woman who’d run from the charging Enphigmalé in my dream. She had the same thick raven hair, same peaches-and-cream skin, and the exact same sapphire eyes. She looked my age, maybe a little younger, but I realized with certainty there was no mistaking the kinship between her, the child who’d warned me about “the Man,” and the adolescent girl who’d brought me here the first time. Sisters? Mother and daughters? Did I really have time to wonder?

She smiled. Again it struck me as familiar—not an openly hostile expression, but not exactly warm either. It didn’t suit her. A gentle breeze stirred her hair, and she looked to the sky, her smile fading into something more serious. When her eyes met mine again, there was a depth of sadness there. “I must speak with you,” she said.

“Whatever you have to say, make it fast.” The sound thumping in my ears now was not the passage of time but my own racing heart. “The last time I wound up here, a few minutes cost me two days. What the hell is going on? Who are you?”

“I’m nothing but a humble servant. A priestess and caretaker. And
you
are the Guardian. You must protect the Key and the natural order. You must give assistance if I call upon you.”

Lovely
.

“I have to go,” I said.

“He will deceive you,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “You have to be strong.”

“I really,
really
do not have time for this.” I pulled my hand from hers. How long had I been standing here? A minute? Ninety seconds? “I have to get back home before someone notices I’m gone. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and I’m not a damned Guardian. You got that?”

“Please, Darian,” she said, too calmly. “You have no choice.”

“I’m not sure what you think I’m responsible for guarding, but I don’t even own a key to my own apartment. As for giving you assistance…this looks like a nice, calm place. I doubt you have anything to worry about.” I held out the emerald, trying again to return it, but she took a step back and shook her head.

A couple of minutes gone? A day—or more? I had to leave. Now. “I can’t help you,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. Find someone else to guard your keys, and quit bringing me here.” I let the pendulum fall from my hand, and it drifted as if it were a feather. “I have to go. I can’t stay here.” I turned my back to her, and the green landscape melted away as I heard the pendulum land in the grass.

“Look out! Move out of the way!” someone shouted before a horn blared. My eyes flew open just in time to see the bus barreling toward me. I jumped, falling back against someone as I tripped on the sidewalk, the bus whooshing past me to turn the corner. Late afternoon. The sun was just about to sink into the western sky. How long had I been gone this time? I had to get back to Tyler fast, but becoming incorporeal on a street packed with humans wasn’t an option. Of course, no one had seemed to notice that I’d just popped out of thin air, so maybe no one would notice if I did it again. Above the din of engines, horns, and people, a high-pitched keen raised my hackles. The falcon swooped down; silver glinted in its
talons as it released its cargo just above my head before spinning in midair and flying away.

With preternatural speed, I reached out, catching the pendulum before it hit the ground. I looked at the emerald in my hand and could almost hear a woman’s calm voice saying, “You forgot something.” Pulling back my fist, I prepared to fling the damned thing into traffic, but before I let it fly, the emerald warmed my palm, absorbing the sound of time and delivering peace to my soul.
Damn it
. Instead, I shoved the pendulum in my pocket and watched as the falcon made its ascent into the sky.

“You’re a pain in the ass—you know that?” I shouted. A few people stopped to gape, though I was only one of several people on this street talking or shouting to themselves. I meandered through the pedestrians, fighting to appear unruffled until I could find a hidden place to leave my solid form behind.

On the plus side, I had less time to kill before nightfall, which meant less time until I could track Reaver. But I was terrified I’d lost more than seven or eight hours. What if it had been seven or eight days? I hurried toward my apartment, all the while racking my brain for a decent excuse for where I’d been, when I heard the scurrying sound of insects close behind me.

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. Just what I needed. I fought the urge to turn and stamp their shiny little bodies into the pavement. In the light of day, a Lyhtan could choose to take the corporeal form of an unassuming insect. At night, they were formidable fighters, nearly seven feet tall and with sharp, venomous teeth that could turn their prey’s insides into a slurpable goo. I’d once seen one of them partaking of a liquid meal. In a word: Disgusting.

Rather than flee like a coward, I stayed my course, waiting for the right time and the right place to turn and fight. I sensed the approach of sunset, my skin prickling with each passing second. Until the sun slipped completely away, the Lyhtans would be shielded from human eyes by their incorporeal forms. They could attack me
right here and now if they wanted to. But I assumed they hadn’t attacked me already simply because they were worried that they’d run out of time and would be forced to regain their solid forms before they could kill me. I needed to find cover, and fast. Good thing dangerous, abandoned alleys were plentiful. Gotta love the city.

The evening sun plunged beneath the horizon, and I felt its passage as a rumble that traveled the length of my body. Quickening my pace, I ducked into the darkest, dankest, most abandoned alleyway I could find—and I turned to fight.

Son of a bitch, there were five of the fuckers. I could easily have taken two or three. But five? Fate really had it out for me. I drew my katana, thankful I wouldn’t be hindered by my corporeal form. Post-sunset, the Lyhtans would be trapped in their bodies, but it didn’t make them any less deadly. Any one of them would be capable of ripping my head from my shoulders if I made one careless move. But if I could take their heads first…the better for me.

I assessed the situation as quickly as I could. None of them appeared armed, though their taloned hands could deliver a poisonous slice or two. I wasn’t taking any chances as I backed deeper into the alley, drawing them away from the hapless public. “I’m having a serious self-esteem moment,” I said. “I mean, five against one? You guys must think I’m pretty damned tough.”

One of them laughed, and I shivered at the sound. No matter how many years I lived, I knew I’d never get used to the many facets of sound that made up a single Lyhtan voice. “We’re going to enjoy eating you.” As a collective body, my five attackers took a step closer, greenish drool leaking from their gaping mouths.

“You’ll make a decent meal,” another said. “A savory morsel, indeed. The world will owe us a debt of gratitude once we’ve finished with you. You are Other. Worse than you were when simply another Shaede scum.”

Nothing I hadn’t heard before. Lyhtans bore a hatred and jealousy toward Shaedes for as long as their species
had lived. And since my transformation into something more than both of them…let’s just say they wouldn’t be inviting me to any family functions any time soon. “Okay, you hate me. And might I add, maybe you’re just a little jealous that I can do what you can do—but better.” I swung my sword in a swirling pattern. “I might be outnumbered, but you’re outweaponed, and outskilled. Leave now and I won’t harbor any ill feelings.”

They laughed, the sound of a thousand mirthful voices. “She’s brave,” one of them said to his buddies.

“She’s not smart, though. Oh no, she is not smart at all.”

Their little conversation was grating on my last nerve. Again they advanced, and again I retreated deeper into the alley. Gray twilight melted away into darkening night as they talked—I assumed—in an attempt to scare me.

“I’m not smart?” Hmm. That pissed me off. I considered myself pretty damned smart. Reason enough to kill my attackers, fair fight or not. “Fuck you.”

I spun the katana high over my head as I leapt into the air, cutting down with speed and precision. Two of the Lyhtans stumbled back, but the other three charged, converging on me so as to give me no escape. I jabbed with my sword and then cut down. Without pause, I swept the blade back in an upward arc. One of my assailants stumbled backward before falling to its knees, clutching its bleeding torso, while the other died before its body hit the ground.
Two down.
The one I’d missed lunged toward me, teeth bared and poised to bite. Dissolving into dusk, I left my body just in time to miss becoming a Lyhtan predinner smoothie.