Blood Before Sunrise (6 page)

The waitress looked to Tyler, recognition dawning on her face. A sultry smile replaced her regular customer-service grin. Her lids drooped almost imperceptibly, and she bent over, showing a sad attempt at cleavage, betrayed by one of Victoria’s secrets. “Hi, Tyler!” she shouted. “The usual?”

Jealousy had never been natural for me, but I felt a stabbing twinge of it right in the center of my chest. Tyler glanced at me from the corner of his eye, a lazy smile creeping onto his handsome face. “Sure. Thanks.” He plunked a bill down on her round, cork-covered tray. “Keep the change.”

She turned to leave, and I stuck my leg out straight, pointing a booted toe to the sky. It wasn’t entirely my fault that she tripped; she should have watched where she was going. Besides, she recovered well enough. The girl at the next table caught her before she hit the floor.

Our waitress had her wheels spinning for Ty; she made it back with our drinks in less than two minutes—impressive. She placed the Seven and Seven in front of Tyler, reaching from behind him to allow her breast to graze his shoulder. The bourbon, she set in the middle of
the table. Someone wasn’t going to get a tip from me, unless you counted a bloody nose and a couple of broken ribs.

I sat up from my slumped position and retrieved the glass, draining it in a single swallow. It burned all the way down, and I welcomed the heat. The warmth spread, real, comfortable, true. Despite what had happened to me, the liquor’s effect hadn’t changed. At least some things stayed the same.

The faint thrumming of an urgent pulse piqued my curiosity. Levi headed toward our table, sweat glistening on his brow. He ushered our waitress quickly out of the way and bent his head between Tyler and me. “Outside. You have company, Darian, and he’s not the sort of patron we let in, if you get my drift.”

Sounded like trouble, and I needed something to take my frustration out on. “Where?”

Levi cast a nervous glance in Tyler’s direction. “In the back alley. Said he just wants to talk…but I’ve never known them to be peaceable.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, giving a playful smile. “I’ll go see what he wants.”

“
We’ll
go see,” Tyler interjected.

Fine.
“We’ll go see,” I said, standing.

“The back exit’s open,” Levi said. “No alarms. It’ll take you right out to the alley.”

Ty followed hot on my heels—literally. He bumped into me more than once. Had it been anyone else, I would have been tempted to give him an ungracious shove. What the hell did he think was going to happen anyway? No one had managed to kill me…yet. “This is exactly why you can’t continue ditching me, Darian. You need protection. You need me.”

“I can handle myself, Ty.” Had something happened during my transformation to make me suddenly too weak to take care of myself?

“That’s not the problem, Darian. I know you can handle yourself. But even
you
need backup every once in a while. That’s where I come in.”

I didn’t answer, not wanting to fight with my boyfriend in front of my “visitor.” As we walked out into the back alley, I heard the Lyhtan’s grating breath before I actually saw it.
Him
. That was what Levi had called him anyway. With their androgynous, insectlike bodies, I still don’t know how anyone could tell their gender. I approached cautiously. I’m not stupid. Regardless of having the upper hand, I didn’t feel like I did. Lyhtans are deadly. They fight amongst themselves as much as they harry their enemies. Violence is their cup of tea, and it doesn’t matter who serves it up.

When the Lyhtan laid eyes on Tyler, he took a defensive stance. Green-tinged drool leaked from his mouth, and he bared his teeth. A low hiss issued from between the sharp points. “I asked for the marked one. Not you, Jinn,” he said in his many voices, which melded into a single ominous chorus. “You have no business here.”

Marked one. Didn’t realize I had an actual title. “His business is my business. Don’t worry your pretty little head about Ty.”
Pretty. Ha.
“What’s your name, Lyhtan?” I had little hope he’d supply it. They rarely do. But then again, even sometimes
I
am surprised.

“I am called Chianshank.”

Sounded a lot like a sneeze the way he pronounced it.
Chi-an
with a quick
shahnk.
I wanted to follow up with a
Bless you
. No wonder they didn’t often supply their names. How in the hell was I going to remember that one?

“Well,
Chian
,” I said, going for something a little less formal, “what do you want?”

“I bring a warning.” His breath came foul and loud, echoing in the alley. “And you’d best heed it.”

His voice, like so many tones layered together, reminded me of less than happy times. The threat of becoming a sacrifice choking every ounce of air from my lungs as I lay helpless on a slab of moss-covered stone, impending death on the wind. I thought of my soul, screaming for release from torturous love and betrayal.
I envisioned blood—so much blood streaming from twin slashes on my wrists.

Thank whatever gods are out there, I’m no delicate flower. I pushed the unpleasant memories away and widened my stance, caressing the dagger hilt at my thigh. It wouldn’t kill the bastard, but it would wound him enough to get him out of my hair if his intentions were less than honorable. “Why warn me? The last time I met up with your kind, saving my skin was low on the Lyhtan to-do list.”

“Neither Shaede nor Lyhtan be,” he crooned. Sheets of gooseflesh rose over my skin. “You are Other. Dangerous to some, a savior to others. And I’ve been instructed to warn you.”

From around the corner, a door slammed. Chianshank flinched, crouching low. A warning grumble bubbled from his thin lips. His taloned fingers flexed, and he cast a furtive glance to either side. “Come close, creature. I will deliver my message to your ears alone.”

Creature, huh? If that wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black. “I’ll come a little closer on your word that you won’t attack.”

“On my word,” the Lyhtan seethed.

Tyler snorted in protest behind me, and I held up a hand to silence whatever argument was about to spill from his lips. Taking a step toward the Lyhtan messenger and then another, I wondered at my own state of mind. The smell of Lyhtan that I’d thought of as especially foul didn’t offend my nostrils the way it once had. To my new senses, the Lyhtan smelled of strong musk, pine, and wilting lavender. Heady, though not exactly pleasant.

As I moved within killing distance of the segmented body of my would-be enemy, he straightened from his battle stance just a little—enough to meet me eye to eye. I stared into the amber orbs, beady black pupils fixed on my face. Suppressing a shudder, I inclined my head toward the Lyhtan’s slobbering, sharp-toothed mouth. I sensed Tyler stiffen behind me, his anxiety
pulsing in soft invisible waves at my back. “Speak your piece, Lyhtan,” I murmured. “And then get the hell out of my space.”

Chian’s face passed close to my cheek—so close I felt a whisper of slimy contact from his glistening mouth. He took a breath of me deep into his lungs before looking me in the eye, and his tongue flicked out, licking his lips as if in anticipation of a lover’s kiss. I held perfectly still and forbade my body to react. I forced my lungs to expand and contract at a normal rhythm. Tyler’s pulse quickened behind me, thrumming double time to the seconds that ticked in my soul.

I waited.

“You will be the instrument of destruction. Creature of nothing and everything—he is coming for you. You must seek out—”

A swooshing sound interrupted his ominous speech. The Lyhtan jerked, then stood erect. His amber eyes rolled back in his head, which lolled on his sharp, hunching shoulders. A shimmering wave, like sunlight on water, shivered across his skin. He jerked again, and turned to the side. The long shaft of an arrow poked out from the back of his head, which seemed to glow hot and somehow cold all at once.

I stumbled and fell back into Ty’s waiting arms, which pulled me farther away toward cover. Chianshank pitched forward, and the arrow’s shaft glowed blindingly bright, encompassing his body in a brilliant luster that forced me to avert my gaze. His long, lanky body crumpled to the pavement, sizzling and curling in on itself until there was nothing left but a greenish pool of steaming goo.

Before I could reach for my dagger, Tyler spun me around and slammed me against a brick wall. He pressed me hard against the unyielding surface, my face smashed against his chest. His arms spread wide as his palms pressed against the wall behind me. Another arrow cleaved the air, singing in the night, and stuck in the brick inches from my head. The tip burned crimson,
eating away at the hard brick and turning it to sand. Its grip lost, the arrow dropped to the pavement with a hollow echo beside my boot and disintegrated into nothing but ash.

I did
not
have time for this shit.

Chapter 5

I
don’t know how he did it, but Tyler kept me pinned to that damned wall. The cool chill of his personal brand of magic snaked over my skin, holding me in a grip that refused to let me leave my corporeal form. “Ty, let me go!” My muffled command lost some of its impact in his shirt. “Goddamn it! Let. Me. Go!”

A third arrow zinged toward my head, and Tyler moved, damned fast I might add, flinging me to the ground. Like the second arrow, this one stuck in the brick, burning the masonry to grains of spilling sand. Tyler spread his arms wide, his palms tracing the air above me, and a dome of tangible energy pinned me to the pavement. I guess I should’ve been glad I wasn’t lying facedown in a puddle, but close enough.

“Stay.” The one word came harshly through Tyler’s lips, making me wonder just where the hell he thought I’d be going, trapped as I was.

The air became saturated with magic, tugging at my senses and settling against my skin like the caress of a thousand downy feathers. Without a backward glance, Ty evaporated from where he stood. Just—poof!—and he was gone. His magic seemed to dissipate as well, crackling in the air like tiny sparks in his wake. Too bad his leaving hadn’t released me from my invisible prison. I tried to push myself to at least a sitting position, but that attempt proved futile. The tight dome of energy held me down nice and cozy against the cold, wet, trash-strewn pavement.
How completely charming.

The cold soaked through my black nylon pants, right
into my bones. I hate the cold—
hate
hate it. But could you imagine me walking the beaches of Florida, head to toe in black—combat boots, long-sleeved Under Armour and all? Me neither. Tyler hadn’t even left me enough room in my little prison to maneuver the long tails of my duster beneath me. Sharp pieces of asphalt-covered rock jabbed into the palms of my hands and knees. I looked like a replica of a tarantula—the kind with a bubble of clear resin poured over it. If Tyler showed back up in one piece, I was going to take great pleasure in showing him how much I appreciated his gentle care of the woman he loved.

I’d been lying on the ground for twenty minutes before he returned. Again, I felt a strange weight in the bottom of my gut, and the atmosphere sparked as if in warning. In the blink of an eye, Ty stood beside me, his expression that of barely controlled rage. My own mood had become less than hospitable, and during Ty’s absence, I’d graduated from wanting to give him a few scrapes to wanting to give him a black eye. With another sweeping motion of his hands, he traced the air above me, and the invisible dome lifted like the weight of too many blankets. I filled my lungs with air, preparing to give it to him with both barrels.

“There’s no sign of the shooter,” Tyler said through gnashed teeth. “Anywhere! How did the fucker get away?”

I drew my dagger and pointed it dead center at Ty’s sternum.
Ain’t love grand?
“Don’t you
ever
do that to me again.” My voice dripped with poison. “You understand?”

He took a step toward me, his arms outstretched and palms facing upward as if he were pleading for understanding.
Sorry, buddy. That well’s all dried up
. Tyler’s love was absolute, uncompromising—just as strong as the bond he’d secured when he pledged himself as my genie. And his protection extended to the point of near obsession. Any other girl would have been swooning over his gallant display.

I am
not
any other girl.

I put my free hand out to stay his progress while I kept the dagger’s tip held high in front of his face. He walked right into my palm, and I felt the beat of his heart even through the thick fabric of his coat. Strong, steadily slowing from the previous exertion of the chase. “Darian, I—”

“Never again, Ty,” I said. “I’m not fucking around.”

I could have listened while he apologized and spilled his guts about how he’d only been trying to protect me, how much he loved me. I could have forgiven him on the spot, and we could’ve gone back to my place, arm in arm, a perfect loving couple.

Instead, I joined the night air and left him right where he stood.

Under the cover of shadow, I came around to the front entrance of the bar. The thrumming pulse of supernatural energy danced across my skin, something familiar and powerful. A woman darted across the street and paused on the sidewalk, glancing anxiously toward the alley I’d just come from. I recognized her from the PNT Summit a few months ago: She was a Sidhe, one of the oldest and most powerful species in the Fae lineage.

Moira.

What the hell was she doing here?

Her gaze settled across the street, on the exact spot where I stood. Eyes narrowed shrewdly, she smiled as if she could see me through the cover of shadow before taking off at a run. She moved so fast, in fact, that I lost sight of her before I could even think of chasing after her.

Sunlight tingles like tiny pinpricks of sensation when it joins with my skin. The gray indifference of dusk and dawn leave me feeling too warm and suffocated, like I’m wearing a scratchy wool sweater in the middle of August. Nothing appeals to me in the way that welcoming darkness does. Like cool satin flowing over my flesh. Despite what I am now, I have always loved the moonlit hours.
Even in my human life, I preferred the night. So I suppose I’d always been a Shaede in my heart of hearts.