Screw it.
I plucked the hourglass from its perch.
Closed my eyes tight.
Waited for the boulder to roll on top of me.
And let out a shaky breath when nothing happened. I mean, no darts shooting from the walls? The ceiling wasn’t slowly shrinking to crush me? No giant swinging axes ready to slice me in two? The whole thing was rather anticlimactic in my opinion.
That is, until I turned around and came face-to-face with Reaver.
The weight of his stare pressed upon me just as well as any shrinking ceiling. And the accusing finger he pointed at me was no less piercing than a poison dart striking my chest. He took a step closer, and the sound of his footsteps rang in my ears like sharp metal cutting me down.
Tyler would be home from his meeting any minute. Fuck, fuck, fuck! My sword sang as the metal scraped against the scabbard, and I held it at the ready, prepared to fight for my prize.
I can’t stop you, Reaver’s voice echoed in my mind. But if you leave with the glass, the damage will be irreparable.
“That’s a neat little trick,” I said, backing away from the granite podium, sidestepping Reaver. The glamour he wore for human benefit slid away, and my jaw sagged—just a little—in awe. No wonder all of Fae-kind wore glamours. Any human would be dumbfounded to gaze upon them in their true forms. Though I can only describe him as beautiful, it didn’t detract at all from Reaver’s masculinity. His once-pale skin appeared deeper now, more bronze with a strange, golden luminescence, as if he held sunlight within him. Eyes, larger than they’d been, slanted in an alluring almond shape, and his ice blue irises ran with veins of the same golden light reflected in his skin. Still tall, still lithe, his limbs seemed even more willowy and graceful, but at the same time, his frame was powerful. Strong. And I knew that if he wanted to, Reaver could have broken me without even batting a lash. With the trees, water, and false sky as a backdrop, he looked like an ancient forest god. And, for all I knew, he was.
You’ll be nothing more than a murderer. But then again, perhaps I should expect nothing less than death from an assassin, and now a common thief.
Somebody was high-and-mighty. I took a step to the side, and then another, putting the rectangular pool between us. He mirrored my actions, taking his place at the opposite side of the water and followed me with matching steps.
Time belongs to no one, least of all me. Yet, I beg you to rethink your actions. I am the Keeper, entrusted for a reason.
“You’re not going to talk me out of this.” Forget the hip boots. I’d been caught in a shit storm of hurricane proportions. Caught in the act and not even denying my role as thief, I was as good as busted. If Reaver decided to turn me in to the PNT Council, I was bent-over-a-barrel-fucked. “I need this thing,” I said, weighing the hourglass in my hand. “I wouldn’t take it if I didn’t think I had no other choice. I’m not a thief—usually. And as for being a murderer…” I was.
You have the potential to do good things for those you love. But you will only cause them to suffer.
He continued to walk, mirroring my movement until we’d reached the end of the pool and the foot of the marble staircase. I can’t say I particularly cared for his threats, not with Tyler already suffering at the hands of malicious magic. “Are you threatening me?”
I’m providing you with the facts. Reaver’s ice blue eyes bore into mine. You’re walking a dangerous path, one that only leads toward destruction. Find your answers elsewhere, Guardian, and leave the glass with me.
Wasn’t gonna happen. His big talk was nothing more than an attempt to get me to return his trinket. This broken thing was my ticket to Raif’s daughter. She was the first piece of the puzzle. Through her, I’d be able to link to recent events. And, maybe, solve the mystery of Tyler’s illness and strange behavior. Reaver would get his glass back over my dead body. I stumbled as Reaver’s words sank in. “Why did you call me a Guardian?” And did he know that my raven-haired antagonist had called me the same thing?
He cocked a brow, and his knowing smile did little to comfort me. False sunlight glittered through the leaves of a birch tree, and I joined its company, fleeing Reaver’s presence for the main floor of the house. When I hit the top of the stairs, I slammed back into my corporeal form with all the force of a Mack truck hitting a wall. Katana at the ready, I looked around for whatever had kept me from traveling unseen. Near the foyer, my gaze found Moira.
Reaver’s sister blocked my path, her lips moving unintelligibly. I don’t know how, but she kept me confined to my solid form. Levi said Sidhe possessed some serious magic, and apparently Moira was a heavy hitter. Her eyes narrowed as she took me in from head to toe, and from behind her back she produced two wicked-looking short swords, the blades forged into a waving pattern ridged with gleaming barbs. Superhuman healing or not, if she managed to cut me with one of those, it was going to hurt like a sonofabitch.
“Is it true you can talk to the dead?” Well, Levi said she could, and when would I get another chance to ask her?
Showcasing none of the elegance she’d displayed at the PNT summit, Moira was dressed for a fight. Her long, fawn-colored hair had been pulled back, and her outfit would’ve had a marine weeping with respect. All the navy blue ensemble needed was a splash of camo and she’d be ready for a black-ops mission. A corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk as she gave me a head-to-toe appraisal. “Would you like to speak with someone? It’s not necessary. Continue on, and you’ll be joining the dead shortly.”
Well, crap. This was not going to be the cakewalk I hoped it would be. Fighting one handed would be a bitch. I couldn’t set the glass down, and my balance would be shit. I’d just have to wing it. “I’m not so easy to kill,” I said.
“Easier than you think.” Moira’s tone would have dropped a less stalwart warrior. She crouched in a battle stance, rocking her weight from foot to foot, and twirled the crooked swords in her hands. She didn’t wait for me to charge but ran with inhuman speed across the foyer and into the great room, where I stood like an idiot, awed by the graceful ferocity of her attack. Too bad I had to fight against her instead of alongside her.
Moira definitely had the advantage. She swung her arms with practiced precision, leaving me no choice but to parry her attacks. The force and speed of her movements sent me to the floor, and I hugged the hourglass close to my body, using the katana as a shield as she continued to attack. She lunged at me, aiming her blades for my midsection, and I landed a solid kick to her right hip, sending her stumbling back against the wall. While she collected herself, I launched my body from the floor and attacked, slicing my blade across her arm before she could defend herself.
A shriek that should have broken glass erupted from Moira’s throat, and the smug look she’d worn earlier transformed into one of mindless rage. Someone was a sore loser. Maybe that was why Reaver didn’t keep board games in the house. The break in her attack had given me the advantage, though, and positioned me close to the door. I took off running as if ghoulish fiends were chasing me, but that bitch was faster than any undead creature I’d ever seen in the movies. All I knew was one second she leaned against the wall favoring her injured arm, and the next she had me by the hair, dragging me through the open door and back into the house. I used her movement for momentum, slamming her back against a wall, but froze when I felt the cold barbs of her blade resting just below my jaw.
“No!” Reaver shouted from the top of the stairs. “Moira, you can’t!”
Her labored breath caressed my cheek, and her grip on me tightened, the steel biting farther into my skin. I felt the trickle of blood and the fusing of my skin as it healed. Reaver approached us slowly, his arms held out imploringly before him as he calmed his sister with soothing tones.
“Moira, let her go.”
What. The. Hell? My eyes widened in disbelief as I took in the worried expression on Reaver’s face. How could he possibly be concerned for the person who stole from him? If I’d found someone in my
apartment stealing my stuff, the fucker would have been toast. Believe it.
“She’s not worthy,” Moira said, her voice shaking with rage. “Let me kill her or we’ll all suffer for her stupidity.”
Not the first time I’d been called stupid in the last few days. I drove my elbow into Moira’s stomach, eliciting a grunt of pain. She tightened her grip, grabbing my hair so hard, I felt strands pulling loose from my scalp. “I want her blood!”
“Get in line,” I seethed. “Let me go and I won’t separate your head from your shoulders.”
“A bold statement, indeed,” Moira laughed, “considering it’s my sword about to draw your blood.”
Reaver might be able to make some ground with his sister. At least, I hoped so, because if he didn’t, I was pretty sure Moira was going to chop me into bite-sized pieces. But before he got his chance, the front door blew off its hinges, and shit really hit the fan.
The force of the impact nearly knocked Moira off her feet, and me along with her. Splinters of wood and shards of glass littered Reaver’s pristine floors—probably the biggest mess the place had ever seen. Tyler strode through the gaping hole he’d left in the front of Reaver’s house, his hazel eyes glazed over with rage and his expression no less murderous.
“Let her go,” he said, power emanating from every syllable. “Now.”
Moira shrank against the wall, her grip on my hair becoming loose and the dagger no longer touching, but still hovering near my skin. “You shouldn’t have come here, Jinn.” Moira’s tone became sharp as a razor’s edge. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“She’s mine,” he growled. “Making this one hundred percent my concern.”
How…in…the…hell did he know where to find me? Then again, I’d always suspected our bond gave him an internal Darian tracking system. God, he was more breathtaking than any avenging angel, standing in the midst of the chaos he’d created, armed with nothing more than his good looks. It might not have been the best timing, but it sent my heart to hammering in my chest, and all I wanted to do was strip him bare and taste every inch of his flesh.
Reaver seemed to share my opinion. His eyes roamed freely enough over Tyler’s body, his interest no longer on his sister or me. He took a step forward and then another. But Tyler raised his palm as if to stay Reaver’s progress across the floor. Another surge of power wafted from the spot where Tyler stood, and Reaver stopped dead in his tracks, unable to take another step forward.
Your lover has skills. Jesus, even his thoughts projected in my mind carried a sensual appreciation for Tyler. But if you want him to come out of this in one piece, I’d get him as far away from my sister as possible.
Agreed. If this was going to boil down to a pissing match between that Sidhe witch and Tyler, I had a feeling I’d be less than happy with the outcome. Reaver gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, no doubt agreeing with my assumption. Too bad Moira wasn’t so agreeable.
She tightened her hold on my hair, forcing my head to tilt back. With deadly purpose, she positioned the blade below my left ear, clearly ready to slice me from ear to ear. My eyes met Tyler’s, and through my fear, my guilt, the bitter taste of my deceit, I sensed his anger, his raw power, his determination to keep me safe. God. I so did not deserve him. I love you, I mouthed, knowing damned well Moira’s blade would take my head right off my shoulders in a matter of seconds.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” Tyler said to my captor. “Let her go.”
The teeth of Moira’s wicked blade bit into my flesh, and I closed my eyes, unwilling to see my death reflected in Tyler’s face. But before she could send me to my end, Tyler lashed out with a blast of energy so powerful, it sent us both sailing across the room. I waited for the impact, for the jarring of every bone as I hit the floor. I should have known what would happen next: Tyler caught me before I could land.
He held me close, one arm wrapped around my torso, his grip fierce. “Damn it, Darian.” His voice broke as he spoke close to my ear. “Why can’t you ever ask for help?”
Moira pushed herself up from the floor, a gash in her head spilling blood down her temple. She stumbled as she tried to stand, her knees giving out and sending her back to the floor. “She’ll destroy everything we know,” she said from between clenched teeth.
“Trust in Fate, Sister,” Reaver said, still glued to his spot on the floor. His wolfish gaze was locked on mine as Tyler hauled me toward the gaping hole that had once been Reaver’s front door. “Have faith.”
Moira glared at her brother before turning the full force of her hatred on me—or not. Tyler gripped his head, hissing in pain as he dragged us both onto the front porch. That bitch had aimed her Sidhe magic at Tyler, not me. I felt his anguish as he held me, the confusion swirling in his mind and the pain assaulting his body all at once. I’d never had such a strong connection to him before; our bond seemed to fuse us together in the moment. It had to have been Moira all along. She’d been the cause of Tyler’s weird mood swings and illness. She’d been at The Pit. I knew she’d killed that Lyhtan and tried to kill me. The pieces fit too perfectly together. “Tyler,” I said as he pulled me toward the street. “Ty, wait. I’ve got to go back. It’s her!”
My genie wasn’t having it. He held me fast as he murmured a few unintelligible words next to my ear. “No!” I screamed, fighting against him. “Goddamn it, Ty! She’s hurting you! She’s hurting you!”
“Stop,” Tyler said, pulling me farther back. “Leave it, Darian. I’ve got to get you out of here.” His power snaked around me, that same invisible shield that had kept me nice and cozy in the alley behind The Pit. Damn him and his gallantry. He’d die to protect me, and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do to stop him.
As he dragged me away, Moira appeared from out of the rubble, but before she could come after us, her brother grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back. I sent out a thought I knew Reaver would hear. When I see her again, and I will…she’s going to die for hurting what belongs to me.
Chapter 18
I locked the hourglass in my safe and slid to the floor. The cold of the hardwood seeped into my pants, drawing my attention from the warmth of the pendulum. Reaver’s words haunted me: “You have the potential to do good things for those you love. But you will only cause them to suffer.”
Hot tears streaked down my face, and a deep, rich pain bloomed from my sternum, spreading through me. Reaver was right. By staying my course and helping Raif, I had only brought pain to someone I loved. Without a thought to his welfare, I’d put Ty in danger. Assassination attempts, threats from Fallon, and Moira’s magical assault. I would never be out of harm’s way. Never. And because he was my genie, that harm extended to Ty. After I found Brakae, I had the mysterious Man from The Ring to deal with. And after that, the emerald and the raven-haired women. Not to mention, I’d be watching my back for Moira to lop my head off unless I got to her first. She didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who let go of a grudge.
Tyler’s eyes hadn’t left me since we’d arrived at my apartment. I wiped my sleeve across my face to dry the tears that ran in rivulets down my cheeks. “So, do you want to continue going off on your own like a stubborn fool?” His soft voice sliced through me like a blade. “Or are you finally ready to let someone in?”
“She already has.”
As Raif stepped out of the elevator into my apartment, a wave of power burst from Tyler, and the temperature seemed to drop by about thirty degrees. I expected him to be pissed, but the deep-freeze routine was unexpected. Pushing myself up off the floor, I got my shit together quick, fast, and in a hurry. From the look of him, Ty was gearing up for a fight. And if our earlier episode at Reaver’s was any indication, this was going to get messy.
“I told you to stay the fuck away from her.” Tyler’s voice brought with it the promise of death. “What part of that didn’t you understand?”
“I’m going to take into consideration that you’re not yourself, Jinn. Because
otherwise, I’d consider your behavior nothing but a lot of jackassed posturing. I’m the least of your concerns. And you know damned well I have no romantic notions about Darian.”
“Bullshit.” Tyler crossed the space between them in the snap of a finger. “You’re on her like a goddamned shadow lately.” His voice continued to escalate, the words reverberating with menace, like the echo of thunder. “And if you think you’re going to take her from me—”
“Tyler!” I couldn’t take it anymore. Moira had worked him over and good. The mindfuck was obvious: He’d never in a million years pull this shit on Raif. I should have killed the bitch when I had the chance, but instead I’d let Ty get me clear of Reaver’s house. What really stuck in my craw, though, was that I had no idea why she’d targeted him, not to mention how she could get to him, no matter the distance between them.
Ty stood nose to nose with Raif, trembling with suppressed rage. His nostrils flared with his heavy breath, his chest rising and falling in a quick, steady rhythm. He was magnificent in his anger. Dangerous. Ferocious. Beautiful. Too bad the target of his rage was my best friend.
“Calm yourself,” Raif said in a soft, even tone. “Think, Tyler. Consider where you’ve just been. What you’ve seen. You’d know there’s something wrong with your instincts if you’d settle down long enough to examine how you feel.”
“He’s right, Ty.” Probably not the best idea to take Raif’s side. But my only other option was to let Tyler rip him to shreds. I stepped between them, pushing Raif behind me. “Look at me, Ty. You can see the truth right here. Just. Look. At. Me.”
He always had a way of making the world melt away. And as his gaze locked with mine, there was nothing but him, me, and this moment. By small degrees, the spark of rage left his hazel eyes, and his expression softened. The bones in his jaw creaked as he unclenched his teeth, and as I brought my arms to his wide, strong shoulders, they relaxed as well, no longer tensed and ready for a fight.
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