Read Blood Before Sunrise Online

Authors: Amanda Bonilla

Blood Before Sunrise (28 page)

And what about Brakae? I had to protect her too. How long would all of this take? Centuries? The thought of returning to that green and endless place terrified me; yet I knew I had no other choice but to go and finish what I’d started.

Fallon came up behind me and squeezed my shoulders. How he could have thought we’d actually bonded over my kidnapping was beyond me. But then again, he was off his rocker in a serious way. Who knew what he thought about how I felt about him. “
Iskosia
is what connects the Guardian to the Time Keeper. The hourglass is like yin and yang, each keeping in balance with the other. The Guardian must be able to travel between the realms in order to protect the essence of time and the natural order.”

“Reaver?” I asked. “He’s a Time Keeper too?”

“Yes,” Fallon said with disgust.

“Who is his Guardian? Is there another key as well?”

“You ask too many questions.” His features hardened, becoming the threatening guise of controlled rage.

“Azriel used to tell me that.” I don’t know why I said it. And in the next moment, I regretted it. Fallon backhanded me, closed fist and all, sending me sprawling to the floor. My jaw had to be broken; the pop echoed in my ears like an explosion, the pain searing and instant. Without my quick healing, I’d have been FUBAR. As it was, Fallon’s heavy-handed punishments left me bruised from the inside out.

“You must like this sort of treatment to provoke me so often.” He spoke too calmly for my peace of mind before grabbing me by the hair and dragging me to my feet. Once, twice, and again for good measure, he slapped me. Blood trickled from a split across my cheekbone, mingling with what had begun to flow from my lip. The bastard didn’t need much provocation to rough me up. “What else did he tell you?” He shook me, hard, his face nose to nose with mine. “What secrets did he whisper in your ear before he died?”

“N-nothing,” I stammered. God, I did
not
want to be hit again. Banished memories blinded me with their pain. “He never told me anything. Ever. The entire time I knew him, he kept the truth from me.”

Fallon’s body relaxed, and he let go of my hair. I stumbled back, leaning on the tacky upholstered desk chair for support. Wiping at the trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth, I asked, “Why are you upset?”

He lunged toward me, and I shrank away, trying to make myself as small as possible. In midstep he stopped, closed his eyes, and drew a deep breath. He rolled his shoulders, tipped his head to the ceiling, and exhaled. When he leveled his gaze on me again, liquid silver swirled in his eyes. “Come here.”

I only stood a few feet away; yet I felt the pull of his command and the sudden urge to sprint to his side. With hands as gentle as they had been harsh, Fallon released the toggle from the clasp and removed the emerald necklace from my neck, making it once again a simple pendulum. Dangling it in front of me, he commanded, “Take it.”

I reached out, drawn to the emerald’s call. So far lost to Fallon’s control, I hadn’t even considered using the pendulum as a means to escape. And if I had, would I have even known how to use the damned thing? My trips into the Faerie Realm had been accidental at best. My fingers brushed the silver chain, and time seemed to suspend itself….

A pounding on the other side of the cheap metal door rattled the hinges that threatened to break from the pressure. “Darian!” A familiar voice called out. “Darian, are you in there?”

Raif.

Jesus Christ, my heart pounded at the sound of his voice, drawing my attention from the pendulum. Fallon seized the emerald from my hand, stuffing it in his pocket before drawing his dagger, which he held tight to my throat. “Not a word.”

Raif!
I screamed in my head, desperate for him to break down the door.
Get me the fuck out of here!

My captor pulled me against his chest, one arm squeezing the air from my lungs, the other wrapped tight around my neck. All it would take was a long, loud sigh and I’d be as good as dead. Fallon wasn’t the kind of person to waste his time on idle threats. Another round of thunderous pounding followed Raif’s shouts, and the door creaked in its frame. Fallon’s wards held, though, and Raif might as well have been trying to kick through a solid stone wall.

Despair stabbed at my ragged emotions, sharper than the blade Fallon held to my skin. And even if I’d had the balls to call out to Raif, a nagging thought stole the fight right out of me:
Why bother? You’re as good as dead. Don’t bring him down with you
.

As if he’d heard me, Raif’s struggles with the door stilled and a dead silence settled. Oh God. “Don’t leave me,” I whispered. What would happen to me if my only hope of escape had actually thrown in the towel?

The air around me became dense, permeated with a sweet aroma that banished the stench of Delilah’s death
from my nostrils. I stared at the door, my breath stalling in my lungs, and watched as dark threads of glistening shadow snaked their way through the tight cracks between the door and the jamb. The Soul Shadows twined back and forth, in and out, weaving around the doorknob, the hinges, the door itself, before crushing the barrier upon itself like a rag being wrung dry.

Raif stood on the other side of the threshold, sword in hand, a warrior’s fierce battle lust shining in his deep blue eyes. He stormed through the entry, Fallon’s wards broken by Shaede magic, poised and ready for a fight. Unfortunately for both of us, I stood between him and my captor’s death, a shield well used, my body tight against his.

“I thought you and the Jinn would have killed each other by now,” Fallon said. “I suppose if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself.”

Raif didn’t grace him with an answer. Instead, his discerning gaze raked me from head to toe, no doubt taking stock of my bloodied face, evidence of every bruise, cut, or scrape Fallon had just given me. I wanted to shrink away from his appraisal, my shame at allowing myself to be victimized all the worse from having him bear witness to it. I healed fast, but I couldn’t do anything about my disheveled appearance or the blood that remained.

“Darian,” Raif said, calm as a still pond, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to fight me for the right to kill this piece of shit.” Did he know me, or what? “Because I swear to you now, he’s going to fall beneath my sword.”

God, I hoped so. I could live with knowing it wouldn’t be me ripping his soul from his body as long as the bastard was dead. Fallon pulled me back until the bed stayed his progress. Then he hitched the dagger high beneath my chin. “Stay right here.” His too-warm breath sickened me as he whispered in my ear. “Don’t move a muscle.”

Arms limp at my sides, I waited in mute silence, literally unable to move. Raif stood at the ready, looking damned near itchy to launch himself onto Fallon and be
done with it. But my kidnapper had something Raif didn’t: a determination born of madness matched with fanatical purpose. He didn’t waste time posturing for a fight. Nor did he use his voice to issue threats of violence. Oh, no. Fallon was a straight-up killer, and he launched himself at Raif without preamble.

Arms flailed, legs kicked, and fists flew, the muffled sounds of the fight coming to my ears as if through a tunnel. I watched in mute horror, unable to aid my friend, utterly helpless. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my teeth gnashed to the point of shattering as I fought against Fallon’s influence—invisible shackles even the strongest will couldn’t break. The quarters were close, their bodies too mashed into the tight space of the room’s entrance to gauge who had the upper hand. Raif fought like a man possessed, hacking at Fallon with two hands gripping his sword. But Fallon was fast and deft. He matched Raif’s assault swing for swing, defending as though he knew what Raif had planned a second before he executed. Raif raised his sword high, and a shout of pain followed by a grunt drew my attention just in time to see Fallon pull his dagger from Raif’s stomach. The deep crimson of his blood was barely visible against the black blade until it dripped from the sharp point, landing on the dingy gray of the hotel carpet.

“Nooooo!” My voice exploded out of me, breaking whatever magical barrier that kept it silent. I swooned from the effort it took to exert the one word, the sound dragging out to a keening cry as Raif’s hand fell limp and his head listed to the side.

Fallon stood, his steel gray eyes flashing silver. He cocked his head toward the gaping doorway and then swung his attention back to me, urgency flashing across his cruel face for the briefest of moments. Blood streamed from Raif’s stomach; his breath seemed to still in his lungs. Dying? How? Not the quick-healing warrior I’d grown to love like a brother. I refused to believe what my eyes beheld. He couldn’t die.
Please. God. No.

My mind clouded with the force of Fallon’s influence.
Against my will, I turned my eyes from Raif’s unmoving form and watched instead as that sonofabitch took the emerald from his pocket and held it aloft. I plucked it from his waiting fingers, holding it before me just as he wanted me to. The room blurred in my peripheral vision, the emerald glowing bright as it became the focus of my entire existence. Seconds—time that never left me—slowed to a standstill, and I realized what Fallon wanted me to do. Only when the emerald consumed me so completely could I travel to
O Anel
. And he’d known it all along. No longer patient, through with playing games, he pulled me close—so close our bodies contoured to each other. His hand snaked around my neck, burying itself in the curls of my hair and winding the locks into his fist. With a cruel jerk, he forced me to look past the glowing emerald and into his cold silver eyes.

“You should have left him out of our business, Darian. He’d still be alive. But won’t Delilah be pleased,” he mused. “She finally got her revenge.”

“Fuck you!” I shrieked, desperate to dig my nails into his smirking face. “I am going to kill you, Fallon. Do you hear me? I’m going to kill you!”

His face drew close to mine, and I felt my knees go weak. Again, my mind filled with a foggy haze, and I blinked to clear my vision. What had happened here? The door was gone off its hinges, and someone lay on the floor, blood pooling around his body and soaking into the carpet. Who was he?

Fallon squeezed my cheeks in his hand so hard that tears sprang to my eyes. Somehow, I felt that I deserved his treatment and that I needed to be punished for something I’d done. “Since you’re a curious little chit, haven’t you wondered how I can manipulate you with such ease?”

My mind cleared, no doubt because he willed it so, and the pain of the moment crashed over me again. Raif lay on the floor, bleeding to death, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. Eyes narrowed in hatred, I was bound and determined to send Fallon to the hereafter
once and for all. One wish was all I needed, and I could laugh while Tyler handed this bastard his ass. The words rose up, hovering on my lips before something gray and evil swirled in my head to swallow them up.

“You’ve never asked how you came to this end. Why? Don’t you want to know when it really happened? When you were chosen by Fate to serve this purpose?” He dropped his gaze to the emerald for the briefest moment before turning his attention back to me. “You weren’t the first Guardian to give a blood sacrifice to the Enphigmalé. Your predecessor died during the last ritual.” The words sounded as if they’d been wrenched from his chest and ended in a vicious snarl. “And the one before him, and the one before her as well.

“Guardians are chosen for their character, their desire to protect, and strength of will. When a Guardian dies, the next in line is called to serve. Transformation is inevitable. As you moved higher in the ranks of the chosen, Fate prepared you. You became a Shaede because a shadow had been cast on your soul in your human life. And when you found love”—a look of jealousy crossed his face—“you took the light of the sun into your heart, making you even more powerful. The Oracle was my key to freedom. She collected the Guardians and performed the blood rituals. None of the others were strong enough to release us. You were hidden until you grew into the protector you were meant to be. But you didn’t hide well enough. Maybe if that Shaede King hadn’t paraded you around like some sort of concubine, you’d still be safe. No one can interfere now.” The wild tone of fanaticism crept back into his voice. “And you’re nowhere near strong enough to stop me.”

I couldn’t look away, no matter how the emerald screamed for my attention. It glowed so bright, casting a green shadow on Fallon’s face as if pleading for me to fight. Helpless, I stared into his eyes, the silver swirls consuming his irises, no longer gray but shining silver orbs. Something reflected in their depths—a great beast—a gargoyle running through the woods in escape. A voice
from my dreams haunted me, the familiarity now clear. “I’ve had your blood,” the Enphigmalé said. “And you will obey
me
.”

My heart pounded, threatening to break right out of my goddamned rib cage. It was impossible. He
couldn’t
be. But how could I deny what Fallon had all but admitted. “What are you?” I whispered, desperate for his words to prove me wrong.

“I am Faolán, the Wolf of Badb, and one of the nine. The first Guardian. Banished. Cursed. Forgotten. And you”—he licked his lips, hungrily—“belong to me.”

Chapter 23

I
stared at him in stunned silence. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have guessed that the lunatic holding me prisoner by force of will had been the Enphigmalé I’d failed to kill on the island those many months ago. Isn’t it great the way life can pull the rug right out from under you every now and then?

Delilah tried to tell me in her strange, circular way. But I hadn’t listened. Just like everything in my life, I turned a blind eye and a deaf ear while being beaten over the head with the truth. Even Reaver, though he’d let me steal the hourglass while he watched, had tried to warn me. And Moira, I now realized, had every right to kill me, and probably should have.

“Darian,” Faolán whispered in my ear. I almost laughed. His true name suited him much better. Somehow the long “a” sounded more sinister. The gentle tone of his voice sent chills across my skin, and I shuddered. “Take me to
O Anel
.”

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