Blood Before Sunrise (18 page)

Unfortunately, now I had one enemy at my back and two before me. I drew a throwing knife from my belt and turned to the side. With a sweeping throw, I launched the knife and struck one of my three remaining opponents square in the middle of its forehead.
One more down, two to go.
It toppled over like a felled tree, landing on the pavement with a sickening
crack
. I pointed the katana at attackers four and five and waited for them to make a move.

Lyhtans are skilled hunters and adept at hiding. The bastards can literally run up walls, and so I crouched, sword ready, my free hand hovering near my knives. In a blink, one of them moved
fast
. Like a character straight out of a video game, it scaled the wall, running up and sideways, and then flipped as it came to the ground on the other side of me.

Two against one. Piece of cake. I went for another knife, drew it, and let it fly. It grazed the Lyhtan standing at the back of the alley, the damage barely classifying as a scratch.
Great. Way to hit your mark, dipshit
. Raif would’ve died if he’d been there to see me make such a rookie mistake.

While I was distracted by my utter lack of skill, assassin number five jumped me. We tumbled to the ground in a tangle of long insect limbs before I dissolved from the Lyhtan’s grasp and reappeared above it. Gripping the katana in both hands, I aimed the sword for the bastard’s heart and stabbed down. It jerked, arching its long, lean back, and died, leaving me man to man—well, woman to thing—with the last remaining Lyhtan. I abandoned the throwing knives—my aim was shit—and went for my dagger instead. Swinging the sword and stabbing with the long dagger, I fought the creature that had nothing more than its talons and sharp teeth to use against me.

The alley was narrow and our quarters close. It damned well might have been blind fucking luck that I’d beaten the other four because, as I grappled with the remaining Lyhtan, it seemed the walls of the alley were closing in on us. It pushed me back, and I slammed against a wall, the katana clanging to the pavement at my feet. The Lyhtan moved in a blur of speed, its long jagged teeth sinking into the flesh of my arm.

Motherfucker!
I thought I’d pass out from the pain. Searing venom pulsed through my veins, and had I been a more helpless soul, my insides would have begun to melt within a matter of seconds. It didn’t take long for the burning to subside as my otherworldly body took over, expelling the venom from the wound. What had
once been a raw, open tear began to close, the skin knitting back together with amazing speed. Desperate, the Lyhtan lunged at me again, and I met its advance in a strange battle dance that put me within gutting distance. I jabbed hard with the long dagger, careful not to make a killing blow. Aiming high above the waist, but just below the ribs, I stabbed, feeling the sharp metal penetrate flesh, meat, and muscle, gouging the Lyhtan’s midsection. I tugged hard, withdrew the blade, and wrapped my free hand around the bastard’s shoulder. I’d have grabbed a hank of its corn silk hair for leverage, but, damn, it was tall. With speed and unnatural strength, I threw my attacker to the ground, stomping my boot on its shoulder to keep it down.

I smiled into the Lyhtan’s seething face.
Yeah, that’s right. Nobody fucks with this girl
. “Okay,” I said, feeling my badassedness. “Who sent you after me? And if you tell me you don’t know…I’m going to take you apart, starting with your fingers”—I pointed the dagger between the Lyhtan’s thighs—“and ending with whatever it is you’re hiding under that nasty tuft of fur.”

The Lyhtan cackled as it strained for breath. “I answer to no one and need no reason to kill you beyond your mere existence. You are favored by that bastard king and his warrior brother. What a blow to them it would be when I delivered your body to their doorstep.”

So…what? This had nothing to do with me, personally. I was just a pawn in the eternal Lyhtan/Shaede strife.
Wonderful
. I didn’t have time for this petty bullshit. “What’s your name?”

“Mengoth.”

Good Lord, couldn’t one of them be named Sam or Brad?
Mengoth?
Give me a break. “Well, then, you’re not worth keeping alive.” I bent over him. “Wouldn’t you agree? I mean, if I don’t take care of you right now, who’s to say the next Shaede you cross will walk away to tell the tale.”

“If you think I’d be stupid enough to beg a creature no better than me to spare my life, you aren’t worthy to
do the deed,” he said. “You seem to be under the misassumption that I find you worth my respect.” He coughed, and greenish spittle splattered on the toe of my boot. “You may have the privilege of joining with the light, but make no mistake. You are nothing more than a common Shaede. And you deserve nothing better than a slow, painful death.”

Mengoth kicked his legs and grabbed my foot with both his taloned hands, giving my ankle a sound twist. I hit the pavement headfirst, white light exploding in my cracked skull. Dazed, I tried to shake the fog from my brain as Mengoth fumbled in the haze of encroaching night for my sword. Metal scraped against asphalt, and the sound of it echoed in the alley, an eerie prelude to my impending death. I lay still, my fingers creeping to my belt as I waited for Mengoth to strike. Through lowered lids, I watched the bastard take up my sword and raise it high above me. He poised to strike, lifted his head toward the sky, and took a deep breath. It was now or never. I pulled the last throwing knife from my belt and launched it at Mengoth’s head. The silver buried itself to the hilt in the Lyhtan’s neck, and it looked down on me, amber eyes wide with surprise. I rolled back and kicked, propelling myself upward, and delivered a roundhouse to his stomach. He slammed against the wall, dropping the katana, which I caught in midfall. With a sweeping upward cut, I ran the blade through his neck, just above the knife hilt, and the Lyhtan’s head rolled deep into the alley before his body crumpled to the ground at my feet.

Just my luck to end an evening on a bloody note.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Raif’s number before retrieving my knives from the Lyhtan bodies that were already beginning to dissolve into shimmering light. For all intents and purposes, I had to admire the Lyhtan form; they were perfectly designed for stealth. They could travel invisibly or virtually unnoticed during the day, and they were fully capable of staying hidden at night. Plus, no messy bodies to scare the shit out of the police when they died. Perfect, really.

On the fifth ring, Raif finally answered. “Where have you been all day?”

All day. I could almost sigh in relief. I’d been gone less than twenty-four hours this time. “Out.”

“You sound out of breath. What trouble have you found now?”

I wished he’d give it a rest already. Like Tyler, Raif was beginning to sound like a broken record. “Oh, you know, just an evening jog to get the heart pumping. How’s Tyler?”

“Not better, but not worse either. Whatever ails him has certainly weakened him. Dimitri has been checking in on him, and your Jinn is growing tired of having a babysitter. It took a bit to calm him down. Sounds like your protector doesn’t like to wake up and find his charge missing.”

Shit. Night had barely fallen, and I still needed to find Reaver. “Can Dimitri keep an eye on my apartment for a few more hours? I have an errand to run.”

“Tyler’s not a prisoner, Darian. Or helpless. I don’t expect Dimitri to follow your Jinn, should he leave. What sort of errands do you have?”

“Just scoping out a new hot spot.” My endeavors to find Raif’s daughter, cure Tyler of his magical ailment, and steal a mysterious hourglass would be a hell of a lot easier without everyone’s noses up my ass. Raif sighed into the phone, obviously onto me. “I’m going to talk to Levi about a lead,” I said, lying through my teeth. “Just looking for some help on the Tyler front.”

His pregnant pause made me cringe. Raif sure wasn’t helping me to help him. The deception had begun to wear on me. I
needed
help; I couldn’t do everything on my own. I didn’t want Raif to be a party to my acts of thievery unless it was absolutely necessary. I knew I could count on him. He’d finally allowed himself to consider the possibility that his daughter was still alive. But until I had the leverage I needed, I wanted Raif to know as little as possible about what I was up to. He was much too honorable to participate in a criminal act, and I wanted it to stay that way.

“Dimitri can keep an eye on things,” Raif said. “For a while longer. But, Darian, you’ll have Anya to contend with if you keep her husband much longer.”

Anya. Yeah, that’s all I needed. “I’ll be home by dawn. Thanks, Raif.”

“Darian,” he said in a tone too big brother for my taste, “when you’re done with your…
errands
…we need to have a talk.”

Sure. Why not? Pile it on!
“Fine,” I said, and hung up.

Chapter 16

I
wandered the Industrial District with one thought:
Find Reaver
. I was through playing fuck-around. Time to locate Raif’s daughter and wrap this shit up. Something was seriously wrong with Tyler, and it was getting worse by the day, for all I knew. And the faster I found Brakae, the faster I could focus my attention on the Man from The Ring and the shit storm his mysterious presence had brought into my life.

Shortly after midnight, the flow of traffic increased significantly, and the vehicles became more ostentatious. The supernatural loved their money. And they flaunted their wealth like an oil baron on holiday. BMWs, Ferraris, Mercedes, Bentleys, Aston Martins—the high-end cars drifted by like a parade of self-important aristocracy. Some of Atlas’s clientele hadn’t come by car, however. I felt the presence of others approaching in the shadows, like a dog pile of energy resting square upon my shoulders to send me steadily to the ground.

Under the cover of darkness, I ventured near the warehouse that housed the private club. It was buzzing with the energy of the inhuman. I couldn’t risk being recognized: I got enough attention as it was. This was a good old-fashioned stealth mission. Though invisible to most, I had no idea what I might encounter should I venture inside the supersecret supernatural club. Delilah could see me in my shadow form, and she was as blind as a bat. So, with curiosity raging inside me, I waited outside the warehouse—and watched.

For an hour I stood guard, invisible to the human eye
and crouched atop a stack of shipping crates. All I could think about was the monumental waste of time the whole stakeout was, and how I could be curled up in bed next to Tyler, feeling his bare skin against mine. And then my mark made his appearance.

Alone. I don’t know why it surprised me. I guess I assumed Moira would be with him. From the looks of them at the PNT Summit several months ago, I’d doubted one went anywhere without the other. I’d seen Moira alone at The Pit, though, hadn’t I? I couldn’t shake the feeling that Moira’s appearance at the bar was more than coincidence. Had
she
been staking
me
out? Or perhaps aiming an arrow at my head?

Reaver pulled up in a very classy light blue Mercedes AMG. The sports car paid homage to an elegant era long forgotten with its short cab and elongated body. But it also looked like it could kick some serious ass in a street race.

The driver’s-side gullwing door opened, and true to its name, it looked like a bird about to take flight. Reaver stepped out into the night. When I’d first met him, he’d issued a silent challenge. Without so much as wiggling a toe, he’d tried to impose his will on me, as if placing invisible hands on my shoulders to push me to my knees. Unlike Fallon, Reaver forced his will with a sort of telekinesis. Fallon’s power was like an urging. A natural impulse I didn’t know how to fight.

Tall—almost as tall as a Lyhtan—and unusually thin, Reaver walked with the grace only the nonhuman possess. His suit must have cost more than a couple grand, tailored to his body in a way that accentuated his natural endowments and made his very thin form seem more lean than too skinny. He paused before entering the warehouse and looked in my direction. I remained shrouded under the cover of darkness, but as his empty sky blue eyes scanned the area where I stood, I didn’t dare draw a breath. His lips rose in a sardonic smirk as his attention was drawn to a black Porsche Cayenne pulling into the parking lot. He waited, the smirk spreading
into a warm smile as he waited for the driver to join him.

Interesting. Apparently Reaver wasn’t the coldhearted bastard I’d chalked him up to be. A second Fae approached with a spring in his step, his eyes sparkling with adoration. He took Reaver’s outstretched hand and pressed his lips to the Sidhe’s fingertips before the two disappeared inside the darkened doorway of the warehouse and Atlas.

Waiting is so much harder when you’re aware of every single second. Curiosity burned as I wondered what the secret playhouse of the supernatural looked like. Was it truly underground? Hidden beneath a stack of metal crates? Or did a mysterious doorway open up, allowing the patrons to party the night away in some mystical realm? The mystery enticed me; yet I had no choice but to wait for Reaver to grow bored and leave for the night.

At three in the morning, he’d finally reached his fun quota. It could have been worse. Every minute waiting on Reaver was a minute lost with Tyler. Lucky for me, Reaver didn’t seem interested in what might be hiding under the cover of darkness. His companion walked through the door, arm in arm with Reaver, both heading for the Mercedes. Good for me. Great, in fact. If Reaver was occupied with his date, he’d be less on guard, which would make him easier to trail. And since I no longer had Ty’s motorcycle, I had to hope he’d travel the city streets slowly enough for me to keep up.

My ears filled with the sound of the wind as it rushed over me, through me. As my shadow self, I followed Reaver in a winding path, in some cases backtracking, circling blocks over again and backtracking some more, before he finally felt safe enough to stop masking his route. The Sidhe was either especially paranoid, or he could feel my presence nearby. I hoped to hell it was the former. I could deal with paranoid. It took all of my energy to keep up; I pushed my preternatural speed to its limits. The city melted away, the houses becoming larger and more scattered as we ventured into Capitol Hill. I
recognized the area well. Xander’s house wasn’t far from here.