His childhood must have been as cheery as mine. “Do you miss them?” I didn’t miss my own family. I’m sure they didn’t miss me, either. In fact, they’d been relieved to hand me over into Henry’s not-so-gentle care, a burden they were happy to unload.
Azriel’s dark gaze found its way back to me and a corner of his mouth hinted at a smile. “My father has more love for himself than any living thing on this earth. My mother was ruthless, choosing her own ambitions over her son. And a man can only take so much rhetoric on the value of honor before he realizes it is a standard impossible to live up to. Do I miss them?” He wound one strong hand around my throat, his grip solid, yet gentle. His thumb stroked the edge of my jaw and I arched into his touch. “I miss them like a dying man misses the grave.”
“You said your father has more love for himself.”
He leaned down to plant a kiss on my bare shoulder. “What of it?”
“You spoke of the others as though they were gone, but your father in the present.” Not even Azriel in all of his collectedness could hide the icy tone when he spoke of his father’s selfishness. And though I knew we were the only two Shaedes left, the slip piqued my curiosity.
“Aren’t you observant?” He released his hold on my neck and ran the flat of his palm between my breasts, whisking the sheet away. “Perhaps my memory of him is too vivid to die. He lives on in my mind, even in death.”
His hand ventured lower, slipping between my thighs and my back bowed off the bed as he brought me to the edge with his artful touch. We were both such damaged souls. Perhaps fate had brought us together. Two broken pieces that, when put together, made a whole. “We don’t have time for this,” I gasped as he took one nipple in his mouth and gently sucked. My voice was broken and breathy as I tried half-heartedly to convince him we should stop. “Lorik will be here soon. Vasili is meeting with new suppliers tonight and he needs you to keep the peace.”
“I’m tired of Vasili and even more so of his spoiled son.” Azriel spoke close to my ear, his breath heating my skin as his fingers did wicked, wonderful things to my body. I let out a low moan as he captured my mouth in a quick but ravenous kiss. “I have my sights set on something bigger than working as a lackey for two humans too stupid for their own good. Lorik won’t be a thorn in my side for much longer, love. Let them wait on us for a change.”
He settled himself between my thighs and any protests or questions I might have voiced were silenced when his lips once again found mine. Yes, I thought as Azriel entered me in one delicious, forceful stroke. Let them wait.
I supposed I could thank Lorik for dredging up thoughts of Azriel in my subconscious. Sex dreams about your dead ex had to rank up there pretty high on the, this-is-so-fucked-up scale. But the memory of that night with Azriel sparked something in my memory. The fact that he’d assured me that Vasili and his son would soon be out of our hair. Azriel made that proclamation a good month before Lorik found himself in trouble with his daddy’s adversaries and it wasn’t long after we’d sent Lorik away that Vasili met his end when that same rival put a bullet in the gangster’s head.
Could Azriel have orchestrated all of it? I wouldn’t have put it past him. He talked of his father’s selfishness and his mother’s ambition that night. He proved to be more self-serving than Xander ever could be. As for his ruthless mother…I’d never met her but based on what I knew of her, I had to assume that Azriel had made her proud.
Sometime in the early morning hours, Ty had moved me to the bed and tucked me beneath the sheets. I settled under the comforter, wishing he was here with me now, his body curled against mine and lounging the afternoon away. He must have popped out some time after I’d fallen asleep. I wouldn’t press him about where he’d gone, though. He needed space to deal with whatever issues had cropped up with the Synod and I was going to give him not only my trust, but the distance he needed.
I wondered if there would ever be a time in my existence where I could simply live a normal, happy life. One that wasn’t fraught with worry or danger, or me poking someone with something sharp for a hefty paycheck. My phone rang seconds later and I checked the caller ID. Lorik. Guess that answered my question.
“Hello?”
“I need you this afternoon.” His tone was all business today, guess he was still on edge from last night’s werewolf adventure. “Can you be ready in an hour?”
“Mithras?” With any luck he wasn’t too pissed that his new guard dog had gotten away and was ready to play ball.
“No. Not Mithras.” Lorik sounded as unhappy about it as I was. Damn it. “A slippery Fae son of a bitch named Kieran who owes me a debt. A debt he was required to pay to me three weeks ago. I want you to shake him down.
Lovely. “Fine,” I said on a sigh. “Give me the address.” I could think of a million things I’d rather do than act as Lorik’s strong arm, but I supposed I needed to keep him close if I was going to find out what he was really up to. Even if that meant playing the role of knee-breaker for a day.
“122 Cherry Street. He’s a disagreeable bastard, so watch out.”
Was there any other kind of bastard? “Where do you want to meet when I’m done?”
“The War Room on Fourth. And please, do me a favor and change your clothes before you come. If you show up wearing that drab funeral attire I’ll be pissed. I need to blow off some steam tonight and I’m not going to do it alone.”
Give me a break. Not only was I going to have to play the part of Lorik’s debt collector, I was going to have to be his date as well? “I’ll see what I can manage,” I said and hung up before he had a chance to whine.
The sun had begun to set in a burnt orange sky, hovering just below the Space Needle, a picturesque scene begging to be slapped on a postcard. I let Ty know where I was going but turned down his offer for backup. I was armed to the teeth and I really didn’t think that the Fae I was shaking down would give me too much trouble. Besides, I had a pair of magic daggers waiting anxiously to do some damage on my behalf. And to be honest, I was sort of looking for an excuse to try them out.
A little trouble was exactly what I needed.
The address Lorik gave me brought me to an old, seemingly abandoned building in Pioneer Square. This part of the city was known to have more than its fair share of supernatural residents so I went into the situation expecting Lorik’s debtor to not only be ready for me, but to have backup of his own.
Bet he didn’t have magic daggers, though.
I made sure my katana was accessible and rested my hands on the grips of the daggers as I entered the building, prepared to draw them if need be. They practically sang their approval, a vibration that traveled the length of my arm and infused me with that insane, euphoric confidence that made me think I could take on anything.
Bring it, evil doers of the world. You’re going down.
The place didn’t look much better than a crack den on the outside—probably to dissuade any human squatters—but once you stepped through the door, a vast palace stretched out before me. Glamour was a tricky thing. You never knew how deep the illusion went. But whoever had cast this particular glamour brought the mojo. I felt like I was on a Star Trek holodeck or some shit. It was seriously cool.
My boots echoed on the polished marble floors and I came to a halt as a tall Fae blocked my path. He reminded me of Adair, the PNT big shot who’d arrested me last year when I’d broke Faolán out of their prison. “I’m looking for Kieran.”
He looked me over from head to toe, his nose wrinkling as he sniffed the air around me. “Shaedes have no business here.” He sniffed me again, this time leaning way too close. Personal bubble violation. Next one would earn him a punch in the gut. “You smell strange for a shadow walker. Too much sunlight on your skin.”
Was that supposed to be a compliment? Hell, I had no idea. “Well, either way, I do have business here. Lorik sent me. So let’s start over, okay? I want to see Kieran. Now.”
The Fae stared me down, his expression
contemplative. I took a moment to size him up: lithe—but strength was deceiving when it came to the Fae—and damned near seven feet tall. His long silvery hair hung almost to the middle of his back and shone in the light like spider webs glistening in the sun. Eyes the color of cornflowers studied me while his full lips pursed as he decided what to do with me. Despite his delicate, almost androgynous beauty, I knew that given the proper motivation he could snap me like a twig. And likewise, the power he was throwing off let me know he was old, and not afraid to use whatever magic he had in his disposal to shut me down if need be.
“I don’t plan on causing a scene. Unless you give me reason to.” I’d come in armed for battle after all, even I knew I looked a little suspicious.
“What business does Lorik have with Kieran that he couldn’t take care of on his own?” Obviously Lorik was a regular here, which didn’t surprise me a bit. I wondered how supernaturals viewed someone like Lorik: a human who’d been gifted immortality. They probably sniffed him with wrinkled noses like the Fae did to me. We were both sort of mutts of the supernatural world, weren’t we?
“The sort that’s none of your damn business,” I said with a pleasant smile affixed to my face. This guy was seriously starting to get on my nerves. “Now, take me to Kieran before I go looking for him.”
“I like you,” the Fae said at last. “There’s something about foolish bravado that amuses me.
Foolish bravado? Eh, considering the bulk of my bad-ass attitude was a by-product of Xander’s daggers, I’d own it.
Take this,” he handed me a plain poker chip made of lustrous abalone, “and follow me.”
“What is this?”
“The price of admission,” the Fae remarked. “This way, please.”
Wasn’t it customary to pay for one’s entrance? Instead, I’d been paid to enter. Weird. Maybe I’d have to return the chip or have it stamped in order to leave? Sort of like the supernatural equivalent of having my parking validated. I stuffed the chip into my pocket and didn’t give it much more thought. Whatever it was, it had gotten me inside and that’s what mattered.
The Fae swept his hand out in invitation and I fell into step beside him, my gaze wandering the palace as I acquainted myself with the layout of the building. I realized, as we went deeper into the vast space that belied the actual size of the building, that until now, I had no experience with the supernatural criminal set. Tyler had only given me human marks until six months ago when Kade showed up in town. And though the demon had been an asshole of the highest order, he hadn’t been involved in any real organized crime.
First Mithras, now Kieran. Hanging out with Lorik was going to be hazardous to my health if I didn’t watch out. We continued to wind our way to the back of the building, through a large salon scattered with barely clothed females—Sylph, Fae, and maybe even a couple of shifters, though their energy was tough to identity—entertaining a slew of admirers who appeared more than ready to open their wallets wide for a few favors.
“Kieran is at the gaming table.” My escort pointed out the male sitting relaxed at a large triangular table covered in midnight black felt. The surface was covered in bright runes that appeared to glow against the dark backdrop of the table and the players used a set of multi-sided dice with more of the same unidentifiable symbols etched into each side. Maybe it was the equivalent of supernatural craps. Hell if I knew, anyway.
As though he could sense we’d been talking about him, Kieran looked up from his game and a corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. I didn’t recognize his energy signature, but that didn’t mean much. I’d never seen a werewolf in the flesh until the other night, no doubt there were countless other supernaturals I’d yet to encounter. This one looked like trouble, though. I’d learned over the course of my existence that you can tell anything about a person from the look in their eyes. Maybe there was something to that whole “windows to the soul” shit. Kieran’s gaze was keen, calculating, and predatory. No doubt he’d been in his fair share of sticky situations and from the looks of him, he always came out on top. I wondered how Lorik ever got mixed up with these guys. I mean, he was in way over his head with the likes of Kieran. No wonder he’d sent me to collect on a debt. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against this guy, and suddenly, I wasn’t super confident of my own chances at this point.
The daggers vibrated at my sides, a sort of rah! rah! rah! cheer to get me revved up for the job. It was sweet, really. I gave myself a mental shake as I approached the table. I needed to quit thinking of the daggers as pets and more like weapons. Because that was seriously effed up.
My first indication that this shake down wasn’t going to go my way was the way that Kieran kept his gaze locked on mine and sat relaxed in his chair. I wasn’t even a blip on his radar. As I walked toward him, he continued to lounge, that same amused smirk curving his lips. I would have expected him to at least straighten in his chair; it was a natural reaction to being approached by a stranger. But not him. I held in the sigh that threatened to escape my chest.
“Tell me, what brings Darian—Shaede, assassin, and favored pet of Alexander Peck to my door this night?”
Well, hell. I clamped my jaw down tight lest it drop to the fucking floor. I found it seriously disconcerting when someone I didn’t know knew me. At least to the point that they felt they could refer to me as someone’s pet. Which, for the record, I did not appreciate. “I’m no one’s pet, but I can definitely show you how I earned my title as assassin.” I rested my hands on the daggers, enjoying the boost of confidence they gave me. Danger? Ha! I laugh in the face of danger.
Kieran’s smirk grew into a full-fledged smile and he slung one arm over the edge of his chair as he regarded me. The closer I came to him, the more convinced I was that he had Sidhe ancestors in his lineage. His energy reminded me of Moira and Reaver. And of Asher who was half Sidhe. I wanted to kick myself for not getting a little more background on him before coming over here tonight. I was usually better prepared, but for some reason, I let Lorik boss me around like he was truly in charge and I was nothing but a clueless grunt. Ugh.
“Pet or not, I find it interesting that someone with such…regal affiliations would choose to do business with as foolish and blundering a human as Lorik. Perhaps you’re slumming?”
Lorik wanted to be the big fish in a small pond, but I had to agree with Kieran that he was definitely barking up the wrong tree by dipping his toes in supernatural waters. His smile grew and I erected a mental barrier to shield my thoughts. Some Sidhe could read minds, it wouldn’t surprise me if Kieran could, too. “He says you owe him a debt and I’m here to collect it.” No use getting into whether or not Lorik was a blundering idiot. So far, he pretty much was. “Let’s make this easy. Pay the debt, and I’ll be on my way. You can resume your game and enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Why would I do that? Having you here is bound to be much more interesting than anything happening at this moment.” I didn’t think the other guys at the table shared Kieran’s sentiment because they all looked pretty damned antsy to get back to what they were doing. “But, since I’m a fan of games of chance, how about we make a wager? I win, you owe me one day of employment, no strings attached. If you win, I’ll give you something to take back to Lorik. Deal?”
Did I look stupid? “Nah. I’m not much of a gambler. Here’s the deal: you owe Lorik a debt. I’m here to collect it. You give me what I came here for and I won’t poke you with the pointy end of my sword. That’s the only deal you’re going to get from me tonight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, assassin.” Anticipation lit his violet-blue eyes and he sat up a little straighter in his chair. “My house. My rules.”
Chapter Sixteen
A thousand curses against Lorik ran through my head as I regarded Kieran with what I hoped was a bored expression. He ran around the city, willy-nilly making all sorts of messes that were left for me to clean up. I wanted to tell the Fae to keep his damned money. I’d settle up wit
h Lorik myself if I had to. As I opened my mouth to say just that, Kieran chuckled and tapped his fingers on the felt surface of the table.
“Too late to talk your way out of this, I’m afraid. Besides, I’m bored. “Raheem!” Kieran bellowed. “Fetch Kaii.”
I swear, if the daggers at my sides could have jumped out of their sheaths and done cartwheels on the marble floor, they would have. Bloodthirsty little bastards.
From a room to Kieran’s right, a figure swathed from head to toe in white emerged through the doorway, face covered with a balaclava. All I could see of this mysterious Kaii were a pair of eerie citrine eyes that sparkled like canary diamonds against the backdrop of dark lashes.
Kaii approached Kieran’s table and a wave of dark energy crashed over me, one that stirred every self-destructive emotion I’d ever managed to lock away. Odds were, Kaii wasn’t very fun at parties. As I tried to suppress the urge to cry, or cut myself, or both, I contemplated the mysterious individual that bent close to Kieran’s ear. Was this Kaii female or male? It was impossible to tell, and since the power signatures that I felt in preternatural creatures didn’t specify gender, I had to assume that the head to toe coverings served a purpose in keeping Kaii’s identity—as well as gender—a secret.
“Darian, meet Kaii,” Kieran remarked. “Kaii is a Reaper. Handy to have on the payroll if you know what I mean.”
Um, no, I didn’t. What in the hell was a Reaper? Kaii’s energy was dark and depressing, and damned spooky, like a cemetery at night. A tremor ran the length of my body and I wrapped my palms around the grips of the daggers to help banish the sensation of fear that I felt in the Reaper’s presence.
“And Kaii, Darian is a Shaede.” Kieran paused. “Sort of. She’s also the consort of the Shaede King and an assassin for hire. Isn’t that interesting?”
Against the Dawn Page 14
