Blood Before Sunrise: A Shaede Assassin Novel

by amanda bonilla

  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 flowi
ng 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.

  Was I still?

  I stepped from the cowl of darkness into my solid form. I had no desire to travel unseen, though my near brush with death—or something worse—suggested that traveling under the cover of shadow might have been the wiser choice. Ignoring my better judgment, I walked with a swagger that would have set a gangbanger back on his heels. Throwing myself out there like a fresh piece of meat was a fuck-you to whoever had slung a magic arrow at my head. A big fuck-you. I was pissed and didn’t care who knew it.

  It wasn’t quite midnight, and Seattle was barely gearing up. I cut across First Avenue, hit Stewart Street, and headed toward the Market. Along with the Space Needle, Pike Place Market is one of Seattle’s most notable icons. Probably why I always felt compelled to go there, no matter the time of day. Humans had always drawn my curiosity, as well as the places they frequented. I was intrigued by the normalcy of their actions, the sense of safety that prompted them to operate with their guards down. False comfort. I knew from experience that ignorance was bliss. I envied them that ignorance, and I wished like hell I could get mine back.

  The tails of my duster bounced against my heels as I walked. Heavily scented air caressed my face—a musty smell of brine, fish, and green things—the waterfront making its way to me. My steps against the cobbled sidewalk ticked in precise rhythm to my internal clock. I counted the seconds: one, two, three, four…until my anger had finally begun to subside. I stared up at the Public Market sign glowing bloodred against the backdrop of darkness. Blood…A shiver ran up my spine like tiny insects. My blood happened to be special. It had brought Tyler back from the brink of death. I was so unique, in fact, I’d become the prey of an unknown hunter. Tonight’s near miss had been proof enough of that.

  Tall buildings loomed to my left, their mirrored windows winking in the glowing light of streetlamps, the tops swallowed by dark night. As I paused midstep, the feeling of insects traveling the highways of my skin intensified. Someone, or something, was watching me. Instinctively I reached with my right hand for my left shoulder blade, where my katana usually hung. I’d left it at home—lovely—so I fingered the hilt of my dagger instead. I never used guns. Too impersonal.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are…,” I whispered, standing still as a statue as I tried to gauge the location of my hidden admirer. A breeze rustled my hair, bringing with it a tang that burned my nostrils. The scent was unfamiliar, but that didn’t mean anything. Friend or foe, I’d learned months ago that creatures scarier than I roamed at the edge of the shadows.

  What happened next is still hazy in my memory. Surreal is the best way to describe it, but time meant something different to me. And though I’m sure everything passed in real time, to my perception it passed in the blink of an eye.

  A falcon appeared out of the shadowed night, its white belly nearly scraping the top of my head in passing. Something glowed in the grip of its talons, a bright green gem dangling from a silver chain. The keening sound, like a war cry, screeched from the bird’s beak, and it dropped its cargo, tinkling at my feet before coming to rest. I looked to the sky, determined to track the bird’s passage. Climbing high above the streetlamp’s luminescence, it landed atop a nearby building as if waiting to see what I’d do.

  The remnant left by the falcon cast a dull green glow at my feet; heat slithered up from the cobbles, warming my ankles through the heavy boots. And as if I needed a distraction—the protesting whine of tires sliding across pavement—a horn blared in warning, followed by the crunch of metal and plastic. Goddamn it.

  Once the chain reaction started, it could only end in one place—right at my feet. I dipped and scooped the glowing green gem up in my hands and pushed, hard, with both feet, catapulting myself a good ten yards in the air. Shadow joined with flesh, consuming my physical body and concealing me in the safety of my Shaede form.

  Both cars ground to a mangled halt where I’d stood, one stunned driver gripping her steering wheel. The other flew from his seat with adrenaline-infused speed, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he searched the space around and beneath his car. “Shit!” he hollered above the mounting commotion. “Did anybody see that? There was a girl standing right here! Right fucking here! What the hell happened to her?”

  Feathery wisps, shades of my corporeal form, drifted to the street a good fifty yards from the crash scene. Red and white flashing lights bounced off the surrounding structures as the first fire trucks arrived on the scene. Emergency personnel swarmed their patients, and the man’s voice drifted down the street, echoing toward me. “…Right in front of my goddamned car. No, I haven’t been drinking! Jesus!”

  The contents of my hand warmed my preternatural skin. Fist facing the sky, I slowly opened my palm, fingers unfolding like flower petals under a summer sun. A green gem, humming with energy and buried in a nest of pale silver rope, it shone like moonlight bouncing off a green sea. I took the delicate silver between my fingers, letting the gem dangle. Fathomless. The stone had an unmistakable depth to it that I could neither understand nor explain. As I looked deep into the softly glowing stone, infinity lay stretched out before me, with no beginning and no end, only endless green.

  I’d never been hypnotized, but warmth seemed to blanket me. Calm blossomed from my chest, and the sound of time passing in my soul quieted for the barest moment. My mind went blank, and I felt as though I stood at the end of a long, dark tunnel, staring out at a tiny point of light. It was a universe away, yet just within my grasp.

  The sense of peace passed like a breaker rolling in toward shore, and fear welled thick and hot in my throat to replace it. Fingers relaxed, the silver ropelike chain slipped from my grasp, the chiming tinkle of gem and silver against cobbles awakening me from my trance. Strobes of red and white light had been joined by blue, pulsing in my vision like a heartbeat. Green warmth radiated from the ground at my feet. I looked down, retrieved the pendulum in my fist, and stuffed it into my pocket. It didn’t want to be ignored, this bauble; its warmth soaked through my pocket and spread to my thigh.

  Time to go home. This had been one hell of a night.

  Chapter 6

  Stepping out of the old freight elevator that served as an entrance to my apartment, I found the studio empty. Tyler had stayed away, and that was saying a lot, considering how he preferred to be stuck to me like Super Glue lately. I was basically over the whole episode, but having a knife held to the chest by a loved one sends a pretty strong message. Though I regretted doing it after my temper cooled, I wasn’t quite ready to eat crow. He’d been wrong, plain and simple. And when I’ve been offended, I’m not a run-away-and-cry-in-my-pillow type of girl. I’m a jab-someone-with-something-sharp kind of girl, and if he wanted to be with me, he’d just have to get used to that.

  I discarded my duster, hanging it on a dining room chair, and absentmindedly shucked my boots. I let my feet sink into the deep pile of carpeting that marked my living room and slid down onto the overstuffed chair, propping my feet up on the coffee table. Warmth pulsed at my thigh, and I dug in my pocket, pulling out my strange new bauble by the chain. The gem had grown dark, its previous glow a tiny twinkle of light somewhere in the fathomless center of green. What was this thing? It looked like a pendulum. The gem was a pointed teardrop, and the fastener of the chain was a large silver loop and toggle. Unfastened, the gem dangled from the toggle, allowing the chain to be held by the loop. It hummed with energy, a powerful magic, indeed.

  I couldn’t just leave it sitting out, and I couldn’t trust anyone with the knowledge of its existence quite yet, so I shuffled to the kitchen, my socks skating across the polished oak floor. A quick jimmy loosened the bricks that made up the false wall, revealing my safe. After a turn to the left, right, and left again, I pulled the heavy door open wide, staring inside at all of the meager keepsakes of my long l
ife, along with a few bundles of emergency cash. I placed my newfound trinket amongst all of my other secrets and on impulse reached deep into the safe, pulling out a stack of postcards rubber-banded together.

  The heavy stock was yellowed with age, and the individual cards stuck to one another even after I’d removed the band. I flipped through the images, pictures of landmarks frozen in time, that started coming sometime around 1932. Las Vegas, Atlantic City, the Grand Canyon, San Francisco, New York…Lorik had bounced around a lot while running from his father’s murderers. I flipped the cards over. My address had been the only thing written on the cards, along with a single message: Wish you were here! It pissed Azriel off to no end that Lorik sent the damned things, and he never knew I’d kept them. But it connected me to someone else in the world besides just Azriel. Grounded me when I had no footing. And now, decades later, all Lorik had to show for his life was stacks of old postcards. I rewrapped the cards with the rubber band and shoved them to the back corner of the safe. As I shut the door, the pendant glowed bright green, as if in protest. I turned the lock, secured the loose bricks back into the wall, and tried to forget about not only the past, but the way that glowing stone had calmed the rush of time, if only for a moment.

  I had no doubt the mysterious gift had been meant for me. But why? And the identity of my benefactor had me stewing. Could it have been the same person who’d killed the Lyhtan and tried to kill me? Hardly. Why would someone attempt to kill me and then give me a gift? Hey, great job not getting killed. Here’s a token of my admiration! No, whoever had sent the falcon to me had not been my alleged assassin, but the two were more than likely related. And my gift giver obviously had no intention of revealing himself. Otherwise he would have given me the pendulum in person. I leaned against my kitchen counter, massaging the worry line from the middle of my forehead with my fingertips as I racked my brain for some clue.