“I had the situation under control,” Fallon said between clenched teeth.
“No, you didn’t. I’m not about to kill innocents doing nothing more than their jobs.”
Fallon looked at me as if he thought me foolish. Stepping over the fallen guard, he traced his finger down the center of the gate, using his magic to let us out the way he’d let me in a few hours earlier. Why he didn’t just reach into the control booth and open it manually was beyond me, but I didn’t care as long as he got us the hell out of there with Delilah in one piece. He retrieved the dazed Oracle and stepped through the gate. “Are you coming?”
I looked over my shoulder and back to the gate. What would Tyler think of what I’d done? What would Xander or Raif think? For that matter, what did I think?
Fuck it. What was done was done. I wasn’t coming back without Brakae anyway, and with any luck, I’d have the hourglass with me as well. I looked to Fallon and Delilah in their glamoured forms. I’d walked through these gates a woman on a mission, bent on helping a friend and obsessed with discovering the truth.
I walked out a fugitive.
Chapter 20
“What are you so sullen about?” Fallon asked.
I hadn’t said a word since we’d escaped from the PNT facility. Dawn approached, and the eastern gray skies were smeared with red. It seemed appropriate, considering the circumstances. An omen of sorts. Blood before the sunrise. I watched the scenery passing us by through the passenger-side window. We’d left Seattle behind, headed down the I-5.
“Where the hell are we going?” I asked, my nerves winding tighter with every mile we drove.
Fallon shrugged. “As far as this tank of gas will take us. I figure we have enough to get to Spokane. I want to put as much distance between us and Moira as possible.”
She definitely wanted both of us dead, so I couldn’t really blame him for wanting to get the hell out of Dodge. I wondered why she made him so nervous, though. Fallon wasn’t exactly helpless; he’d demonstrated he had power and then some. Yet Fallon was spooked. I only wished I knew why. I decided not to press the matter, though; I had nothing more to say to him and didn’t feel like drawing the SOB into conversation. I turned in my seat to check on Delilah, who sat in the back of the unassuming VW sedan, just as much a vegetable as she’d been when we’d hauled her out of her cell. I rode shotgun—lucky me—and the man whose throat I wanted to slit wide open drove. Not well, I might add. Jesus, I’d seen newly licensed teens with better driving skills.
I’d spent the better part of three hours berating myself for letting this situation get so out of hand. If only Adare had met me at the door that day. If only I’d asked Tyler for help. If only I’d quit fighting against Xander and tried to convince him to work with me. Instead of letting people in, I’d done what I’d trained myself to do for years: I’d shut everyone out—everyone, that is, but Raif.
“Are you going to answer me?” Fallon said. “Or are you going to pout the rest of the way?”
I pressed my palm to the pocket holding my cell. GPS was a hell of a safety net. Even though I’d fled Seattle with Fallon, Raif could find me. I never—ever—went out on a job without a backup plan. The night Tyler had come to my rescue at Reaver’s had been the last straw. I couldn’t bear for him to endanger himself for a task that was none of his concern. Raif, on the other hand, was just as much a part of this as I was. His worried expression was fresh in my mind as I thought back to our last encounter before I’d left with Fallon.
“Raif, hear me out.” I turned to face my friend, hugging my arms to myself to ease the emptiness I felt. It worried me that I’d had to wish Tyler out of my apartment and to The Pit, where Levi could keep an eye on him. His control was held together by the barest of threads. “You don’t want to reopen old wounds. I get that. But Delilah wouldn’t have mentioned Brakae just to piss you off. She knew the PNT would more than likely lock her away for good…or worse. She’d planned on using your daughter as a bargaining chip if she happened to get caught.”
“It’s been centuries, Darian. With no word. Not even a trace of where she might have gone. Why would Delilah keep such a secret for so long?”
I cocked a brow. “Why? Why not? You killed her sister, Raif. I wouldn’t have willingly supplied you with that information either. You wanted answers. I believe she’s got them. But we won’t know for sure unless we can unlock whatever spell Adare put on her so I can get to the bottom of this.”
“Why not just go to Adare?”
“Do you think he’d put our issues before PNT justice?”
Raif sighed. “No.”
“So let’s use Fallon to our advantage. I’ve already stolen this goddamned hourglass; it’s too late to change course now. I’ll make the trade, get what we need from Delilah, and when it’s all said and done, we’ll bring Adare and Reaver into it.”
“And what if Fallon double-crosses you?”
The thought hadn’t escaped me. He didn’t strike me as particularly trustworthy. “When I meet up with him to exchange the hourglass, I’ll activate the GPS on my phone. If he tries anything, you can keep track of where we are. If things go south, you call in the cavalry and you’ll know how to get to me. It’s doable. We can make this work.”
Raif gave me a sad smile. “Darian, are you prepared to face PNT justice over this? There could be serious repercussions for what you’re doing.”
“I know,” I replied with a sigh. “And yes, I’m ready to accept the consequences of my actions. Whatever they might be.”
“All right, then.” Raif’s expression changed from concern to resignation. “We’ll try.”
Though he had no idea how his daughter’s disappearance could be connected to the “Man” Delilah had mentioned or the mysterious Shaede women of my dreams, he promised to see this through to the very end—his daughter returned to him or not. Now, I just had to wait him out. He was tracking me—no doubt there—and as soon as Delilah spilled her little secret, I had to trust he’d get me the hell away from Fallon so I could return the hourglass to Reaver. From there, we’d find his daughter together.
“You’re not much of a travel companion.” Fallon’s voice broke into my reverie. As if he had nothing better to do than listen to himself talk, he continued. “I hope the next hundred miles are better than the last.”
Since we’d confined ourselves to the ridiculously cramped car, my feelings of unease had mounted. Something about Fallon pulled and repulsed me, simultaneously urging me to flee; yet I wanted to lean in closer. My phone continued to vibrate in my pocket at five-minute intervals, and I was pretty sure my voice mail was full because that alert had quit going off an hour ago. Though I worried he’d run the battery down with his repeated calls, that vibrating phone connected me to Tyler and let me know he still cared about me despite everything I’d done to crush him.
“Darian, speak to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” I looked away, preferring blurry scenery and car sickness to Fallon’s attempts at conversation. Why had I begun to feel more like a prisoner and less like an accomplice?
Spokane struck me as a city built upon a foundation of churches. From the freeway, they jutted up everywhere and farther out, toward the city proper as well. It was a city of old architecture peppered with new—and a variety of gods watching over it all.
I’d taken jobs for Tyler that led me to other cities, but not often. I liked to stay close to home, to what felt familiar. I didn’t like leaving my comfort zone. Despite its size, Spokane felt small at about two-thirds the population of Seattle, and in turn made me feel exposed. I blended into the Seattle scenery. Here, I stuck out like a sore thumb. There wasn’t the same press of bodies or quick pace that allowed me to go unnoticed. There was too much room to breathe. Too easygoing. Spokane had more of a Small Town, USA, feel: eye contact, open smiles, and friendly curiosity. Not that Seattle wasn’t friendly, but with the big-city pace, people just didn’t have time for much more than a passing gla
nce. We wouldn’t blend in quite as well here. No one in our trio of preternatural fugitives needed that kind of attention.
Fallon abandoned the downtown area, continuing down the freeway toward the Idaho border. We’d be more exposed as we left the population behind, and I wondered at his choice in direction. “Where are we going?” As though it mattered. Every mile we drove was a mile too far. All I wanted was to return home.
“We’ll need to find a hotel. A quiet place where I can lift the magic that imprisons Delilah in her own mind. Isn’t that what you want? To unlock her secrets? I can’t do it from the driver’s seat of this car.”
“And then you’ll get the hourglass. So don’t act like all of this is one magnanimous gesture. Look around you, Fallon,” I said, indicating the thinning urban landscape. “You don’t think we’re going to arouse suspicion?”
“I won’t,” he said. “Glamour, remember?”
I refused to look at him. And why should his ability to glamour bother me? Fae wore glamour to hide from the human populace all the time. Maybe it wasn’t the glamour at all. Since we’d left Seattle, Fallon’s mood and personality had done a complete one-eighty. He’d been uptight, done, and demanding before. Now, he seemed relaxed, cheerful even. He hadn’t mentioned the hourglass since we’d left the city. Why? He’d been itching to get his hands on it before. The damn thing wasn’t out of his reach, though. It was right in the backseat, resting next to Delilah, who might as well have been luggage herself.
As I turned to look at him, the heavy sigh escaped my lips before I thought better of it. The next second, pain and white-hot light exploded in my skull. My head bounced against the window from the impact of the blow, and a swollen knot formed on my temple before healing and shrinking back to nothing. I shook the fog from my brain and tried to calm my suddenly racing pulse and the unpleasant memories that crashed over me like a tidal wave. Too shocked to react, I stared at Fallon in disbelief as he shook out his fist. The coppery tang of blood coated my mouth from the split in my lip, and I passed my tongue over the wound as the skin fused back together.
“You forget, I’m helping you,” he said low, the words infused with rage. “You should be grateful, and instead you’re acting like a spoiled child. I don’t want to hit you, so don’t give me reason to do it again.”
I was dazed, and my breath came in shallow drafts. My heart beat triple time to the passing of seconds, and I squeezed my hands together to keep them from shaking. I had been the victim of an abusive human husband nearly a century and a lifetime ago. Erratic mood swings came standard issue with abuse, and Fallon’s behavior was no exception. With a single punch and a warning, Fallon had reminded me of the woman I used to be and never wanted to be again.
“Lay your fist on me again, Fallon, and I’ll be more than happy to gut you right here on the freeway.” I seethed with pent-up anger, fire burning a path through my veins and pooling in the pit of my stomach. My hands clenched into fists, the urge to retaliate overwhelming. But even as I tried to raise my arm to give him tit for tat, something stayed my progress—a strange compulsion to keep my fists in my lap and my mouth shut.
“Now,” he said, his tone becoming light once again, “let’s find somewhere to settle in.”
Fallon took the next exit and followed the ramp toward a cluster of hotels and a strip mall. We pulled into the parking lot of a Best Western, and he cut the engine, leaning so close to me I could feel his breath on my face. “Stay here.” It was a warning and a command. “I’m going to get us a room, and I’ll be right back.” He took the keys out of the ignition, engaging the alarm as he walked toward the hotel lobby. As I watched him walk, his form shimmered for just a moment, like heat rising from asphalt. By his next step, he’d assumed the guise of a well-coiffed businessman, suit and all. I tried to contain my fear and amazement, but it came out anyway in a sort of half-choked sob.
My cell hadn’t rung for at least a half hour. I pulled it from my pocket, prepared to call Tyler so I could beg him to come and take me home. When I flipped open the phone, the screen flashed Low Battery before going completely black. My chest tightened, constricting the flow of air to my lungs. It doesn’t matter, I told myself. Raif knows where I am. He’ll come and we’ll get the hell out of here. Fallon might not have been bothered by our situation, but I sure as hell was. “You know what, Delilah,” I said. “I’d have been a lot better off if you’d kept your big mouth shut!”
Through the lobby window, I could see Fallon standing at the front desk. He cast the occasional glance back at the car as if afraid I would try to bolt. I don’t know why I didn’t leave. The same strange compulsion I felt around Fallon kept me welded to my seat, as though an unspoken command prevented me from actually following through. Moments later, he emerged from the hotel, smug and satisfied as ever. He tapped a plastic keycard against his palm, his face thoughtful as he kept his businessman guise.
“We’re down there.” He pointed to the farthest end of the building. “I told the front desk I was exhausted and needed some peace and quiet.” His gray eyes hardened as he took his seat, moving the car down the parking lot closer to our room. “I’ll deal with the Oracle; you retrieve my glass.”
And, fool that I was, I did exactly as he asked. I wondered at my behavior. It felt like the moment you realize you’ve had way too much to drink. And even though you know you’re acting like a complete drunken idiot and nothing like your normal self, you do nothing to stop it. I slung the backpack over my shoulder, careful not to jostle the hourglass inside. I followed Fallon like an obedient puppy while he led Delilah toward our room. She stared straight ahead, her head cocking to one side and then the other. If she had any inkling of what was happening to her, the only indication she gave was the slight shiver that occasionally shook her lithe body.
Once inside the drab and uninteresting space that was bound to become my personal hell, Fallon flung himself across one of the queen-sized beds, stretching with languid grace. I’d never seen anyone so bipolar. Just three minutes and fifteen seconds ago, his eyes had flashed with rage. And now he looked like a kid on vacation.
“No doubt Adare is hunting us,” I said, slumping down on the opposite bed. “We shouldn’t have run.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fallon answered. “Where we’re going, they won’t find us.”
Where we’re going? Uh-uh. No freakin’ way. I’d gone far enough with him. I wasn’t going another foot, let alone another mile. My phone was dead, GPS effectively shut down. I wasn’t taking another step in any direction until I saw the whites of Raif’s eyes.
My assassin’s instincts took over as I studied the layout of our room. I needed to be familiar with every corner when shit went down. And it would. The better acquainted I became with my surroundings and my accomplice-turned-captor’s mannerisms, the better my chance at escape would become. “I’m not going any farther,” I said, though the words carried little fortitude. “Release Delilah’s mind. I’ll give you the hourglass, and you can be on your way.”
Fallon stood, and I felt my head slowly shrink into my shoulders. A wild silver glint chased across his gaze as he approached and seized me roughly around the throat. “You will go farther for as long as I say you will,” he said, giving me a brain-rattling shake. “Do you understand me?”
I couldn’t speak or draw a breath deep enough to produce any kind of sound. His fingers dug into my tender flesh, bruising, nearly burning me with the contact. The emerald flared in my pocket, hot and angry, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I nodded my head as much as his grip would allow, and he pushed me away, throwing me down on the bed. As I massaged my neck, Fallon paced the room, muttering under his breath. He rounded back to the bed and hauled me up by a handful of hair, pressing the tips of his fingers to the middle of my forehead. I jerked away, but he held me. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out at the searing contact. Magic flowed over me, binding my body in a second skin.
“I can’t have you leaving,” Fallon
said, “or disappearing right under my nose.” No. He couldn’t have! But I realized as I tried to merge with the light that Fallon had, in fact, bound me to my corporeal form. “You’ve done this to yourself.” His chiding tone made me want to vomit. “You can be mad all you want, Darian. But this is your fault. Behave, and I won’t have to further punish you.”
I sat on the bed, staring in disbelief as he left my side to tend to Delilah. What the hell was wrong with me? Fallon should have been dead where he stood. If any other man had laid his hands on me, I wouldn’t have hesitated to part him from his head. So why, now, did I cower in fear of this Fae who shouldn’t have one-tenth of the power he held over me? I thought of the times I’d felt drawn to him, compelled to divulge information he had no business knowing. Could it be that his magic had played a part even then? Secretly stealing my will? The thoughts in my brain began to swirl and mull about like mud meeting a pool of fresh water. I had a feeling someone should be coming to get me, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember who.
“Darian, come here.”
I walked to Fallon despite the instinctive thought that I should keep my distance. He knelt at Delilah’s feet in an almost-meditative position, his palms resting on his knees. “Time to spill your secrets,” he said, and pressed the heel of his hand to her forehead.
Delilah came to as if someone had just doused her with a bucket of ice water. As she thrashed her limbs and gasped for air, it took all of Fallon’s strength to hold her down. You wouldn’t think a twig of a girl like Delilah could fight so hard, but let me tell you, she gave him a run for his money.
“Keep quiet!” Fallon growled. “You’ll have all of Washington down on our heads if you raise your voice.”
I waited for him to smack her across the face or kick her good and hard. But he didn’t. Apparently he saved that affection solely for me. Prick. Delilah calmed, the mere sound of Fallon’s voice enough to put the fear of Jesus in her. Not a very hard nut to crack. “Do you know where you are?” I asked.
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