A thousand voices laughed in my ears. I fought the urge to cover them with my hands, to block out that evil sound.
“We will lure them with our beauty, and then we will rip their souls from their flesh! We’ll have some fun with them!”
I brushed my fear aside and tried to decipher the nonsense from actual threat. I had to hope one of them would be stupid enough to identify the mastermind behind their little coup. Everyone suspected Azriel, but I had to be sure. Driven by basic instincts and simple emotions, these Lyhtans could be easily controlled by the right individual. They appeared to be brainless creatures with only base desires, though Raif had proclaimed differently.
“Who is your master?” I asked as I fought to keep moving.
I was answered by another round of cackling laughter. “Our master wants you,” they said.
Ambiguous answers aren’t my favorite. Wants me what? Dead? Alive? Tortured? Stripped naked, doused with honey, and set on an anthill? I was so over this unwelcome escort. “Look, ladies . . . fellas . . . whatever. Are you planning on doing something here, or are you just going to talk me to death? I’m pretty fucking tired, and I’m not in the mood for your bullshit this morning. So if you’re going to do something, get on with it. If you’re not, then get the hell out of here!”
I waited, my pulse pounding in my ears, for their next move. I was sure I’d invited an attack, and I stood ready to defend myself, no matter how wasted the effort might be.
Their laughter grew louder, and they pushed with their invisible forms, tossing my body this way and that. I tried to stay straight, but they were too strong and I listed, stumbling as they shoved. The sound of their mirth intensified until I thought I’d go crazy from the laughter. The density of the air changed, and I cried out as many clawed hands scraped against me. Blood oozed from the gaping wounds, and I fell to the ground. I reached over my shoulder, gripped the hilt of the katana, and ripped it free of the scabbard. On my knees, I held it out before me, ready to fight, though unsure how or where to aim the slice of my blade as flashes of light shone before me, too fast for the human eye to track, becoming solid for a split second before disappearing entirely.
Laughter turned to screeching. I felt the power of their screams deep in my chest, my heart threatening to explode at any minute. I swung the katana at the air, slicing and cutting down over and over.
The screams stopped. The laughter was gone. The air became easy to breathe, and I no longer felt the pressure of their presence. I fell face forward on the concrete, and I heard the metal blade ring as it struck the ground. Blood gushed warm and sticky from my many wounds, the pain almost unbearable, and there I lay, a mere block from my apartment.
Goddamn, I needed help. Needed it right fucking now. I tried to form the sentence that would save me, “I wish . . .” But I didn’t get past the first two words. Darkness swept down on me, and it was welcome.
“Darian, don’t move,” Tyler’s voice was soft next to my face. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch, but you can’t move or you’ll pull the stitches.”
Stitches? What would I need stitches for?
Something cold and wet made contact with my skin, and a jolt of pain like liquid fire shot through me. I jerked but did as Tyler asked and tried to keep as still as possible. Dragging a ragged breath between tightly clenched teeth, I didn’t dare open my eyes. I didn’t want to see the damage that was so bad it would require my quick-healing skin be sewn together. A string of curses sat at my tongue, distracting me from the searing pain. For comfort, I visualized the many ways I could kill my Lyhtan attackers in the gray hours of twilight.
Soon the pain ebbed, and my breathing slowed. I allowed my tense body to relax by fractions of inches, slowly sinking into the soft comfort I recognized as my own bed. The delicious scent that clung to Ty drifted toward me, helping me to calm. I wasn’t safe, but I felt better just being near him, my personal wish granter.
“How did you find me?” I croaked.
“I knew you were about to make a wish,” he said as he propped another pillow beneath my head. “I get this tingly feeling that’s a precursor to the actual wish. When you didn’t follow through, I got worried and went to look for you. Luckily, you were close.”
“Why do I need stitches, Ty? What the fuck?”
He brushed my hair away from my forehead. His touch felt cooler than normal. “Raif came by to check you out. He was pretty pissed—mentioned something about bottled shadows and your inability to obey an order. He says you’ll heal, but the Lyhtan venom prevents your skin from closing up like it should. If I hadn’t closed the wounds, you may have bled out.”
“I thought they could only kill me during the gray hours,” I mumbled, ignoring the I told you so Raif had delivered by way of Tyler.
“Are you dead?” Tyler asked.
“No,” I moaned, “but that’s not saying much.”
He bent over and pressed his lips to my forehead. I breathed deeply, taking in his scent as if I’d never smell it again. How many times had he gotten me out of a jam? How many more opportunities would he have to come to my rescue? Which of those times would kill him?
“Tyler.” I worked to lean up on my elbows. It hurt like a sonofabitch. “You need to go. It’s not safe for you here.”
“Darian, I’ve dealt with nastier things than Lyhtans,” he said, laughing. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What are you, Tyler?” I asked. Nearly delirious from the Lyhtan venom, I felt groggy, drugged.
“I’m yours,” he said.
I mumbled a few incoherent words and lost consciousness again.
Angry voices roused me from a dark abyss. Two of my favorite voices, actually. Xander arguing with Tyler. I couldn’t make out the words, but it was a heated discussion nonetheless.
I wanted to speak up, but my mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. I tried to run my tongue over my lips, but it just stuck to the roof of my mouth like I’d glued it there. I wrestled with producing enough saliva to dislodge my tongue for a couple of minutes while Tyler and Xander continued to argue. I couldn’t even wish they’d stop.
I abandoned trying to talk and instead let out a loud groan. I didn’t need my tongue for that, and it managed to interrupt whatever was going on between the two men. I heard the shuffling of feet and maybe a shove or two, and then felt their presence beside me. I pried open my heavy lids, and the blurry room and occupants slowly came into focus.
“Hey,” Ty said, obviously jumping in to be the first to speak to me. “How are you feeling?”
My tongue popped loose from the roof of my mouth and I parted my dry, cracked lips. “Water,” I whispered.
The room blurred out of focus and I heard more commotion. Their voices low, they’d begun fighting again.
“Here,” Xander said. I felt a depression in the bed where he sat beside me. “I’ll help you drink.”
I managed to clear my vision and caught sight of Tyler, arms folded in front of his chest. He snorted derisively.
Xander lifted the glass to my lips and I drank. It had to be the best-tasting water I’d ever had. Not too cold, not too warm, and it loosened up my dry mouth. Delicious. Xander pulled the lip of the glass away and I leaned back onto the pillow, exhausted from just the small task of drinking.
“I feel like shit,” I grumbled. “When is this damn Lyhtan venom going to wear off?”
The bed shook with Xander’s laughter. Tyler entered the fray and took a seat on my opposite side. He gave my hand a light squeeze. “Soon,” he said. “It’s already wearing off. It won’t be much longer.”
Xander grabbed my other hand. What was this—a battle for Darian’s appendages? I didn’t like it. “You’re healing faster than we expected,” he said. “We’ve already had to remove the stitches.”
I clenched my stomach muscles and tried to sit up to see the extent of the damage. The cuts pulled and stung, piercing my side with a sharp pain. I sucked in a quick breath and eased myself back d
own onto the pillows.
“What were you two fighting about?” I asked.
Their voices answered in unison. “Nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass,” I said.
Tyler took the high road, just like I knew he would. “There was another attack just after sunset. Two more Shaedes were killed.”
“And . . .” I said, prompting him along.
“And Xander thought that you should move into his house. I told him no.”
“And I told him to stay out of matters that don’t concern him,” Xander interjected.
“Darian is my business,” Ty said, gripping my hand a little too tight.
“No more than she is mine,” Xander shot back.
“You’re the reason she’s in this mess,” Tyler hollered.
“If you were more adept at protecting her, this never would have happened!” Xander yelled.
“Both of you shut up.” I wanted to yell too. But I couldn’t muster the energy; it only sounded weak. “You know, Xander, for immortal creatures, we sure are easy to kill, aren’t we?”
I sensed his chagrin, but I didn’t care. I’d been lied to. I had no clue what my true limitations were, the extent of my invincibility, and the actual length of my life. He could suck it up for a while and come clean.
“We’ll talk,” he said. “But not while the Jinn is here.”
“I have a name, asshole,” Tyler said.
“Stop it!” My voice had a little more to it that time. Good. I needed to kick my ass into gear. “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Tyler.”
Gloat rolled off Tyler like a soft wave. Xander tensed, and I sensed another row about to begin. Jesus. I couldn’t take the testosterone anymore.
“Tyler,” I sighed. “Could you give us a few minutes?”
Hazel eyes widened and then narrowed. His body straightened, and I sensed the hardening of his form, his hurt at being asked to leave.
“Come on, Ty. Don’t be like that.” I wasn’t strong enough to worry about his ego right now. “I don’t have it in me to sit through another pissing contest. Just a few minutes.”
He stood, his body still tense with anger, and he walked to the lift without a word. The gate slammed down in front of him and he left.
Xander relaxed beside me and smiled. Great. Hurt one; encourage another. Not exactly what I was going for. “Listen, Xander,” I said. “This doesn’t mean I like you better. In fact, you’re at the top of my shit list. Just say whatever you need to say and get the hell out.”
His smile grew. I really hated the way my anger encouraged him. He was a no-means-yes kind of guy all the way around.
“I hate to burst your bubble, Darian,” Xander said, “but invincibility is a concept best left to comic books. There is nothing in the natural world that is unkillable. Including you. We heal incredibly fast; therefore, most injuries that would be fatal to another creature do not affect us in the same way. We don’t succumb to illness, though as you can plainly see, toxins can weaken us and make us vulnerable. We hold dominion over one another when bonded by love, magic, or blood. Therefore, no matter the hour or the circumstances, we have the power to send one of our own forever into shadow. And we can live for generations, ages. Is that what you want to hear, Darian? Is this what you’re so bitter about? The fact that it’s not laid out for you in simple terms, black and white?”
“The natural world,” I scoffed. “Do you really think we’re a part of the natural world?”
“Yes.” His answer was simple, definite, final.
Xander smiled and stood. No matter how much I hated him, I couldn’t deny he was something to look at. His blond hair had been pulled neatly back and secured with a band at the nape of his neck. And his eyes sparkled against the darker backdrop of his face, which was angular and strong, a kingly face if I ever saw one. I wondered at his outfit—a silk T-shirt and slacks, both black. Hmm. An homage? Or maybe just a somber color for the somber tone of his visit. Oh yeah, he was something to look at all right, but he was Azriel’s father, for chrissake, and my own personal tormentor. At the moment, I didn’t think the line between love and hate was fine enough for me to feel anything for him but insufferable frustration, and no amount of beauty was going to change that fact.
“I suppose I’ll leave,” Xander said, as if leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. “Your slave is no doubt pacing the sidewalk right now and is eager to see to your care.”
My slave? Laughable. “He’s anything but a slave, Xander.”
He raised a challenging brow. “Oh no?”
“What do you know about him?” I asked, my suspicions aroused.
“The Jinn has bound himself to you, Darian.” He almost sounded sorry for Tyler. “Everything, even his own life, comes second to your wishes.”
“Well, I never asked him to do that,” I said, defending myself for something that wasn’t my fault. “I don’t need a genie.”
“Oh no?” Xander said again, daring me to contradict him. “Don’t be so sure. Heal quickly, little assassin. I need you.”
The last traces of gray light must have been swallowed up by dark night, because Xander passed into shadow and disappeared from my presence.
Chapter 16
Xander’s comments about Tyler left a sour taste in my mouth. I didn’t want to think that by binding himself to me, Ty had given up his free will. It made me sick to think of anyone giving themselves over in that way, so completely, without reservation. I’d done that a century or so ago when I’d given my life over to Azriel, and look where that decision landed me. Slave. The word was degrading, disgusting, weak. Tyler wasn’t weak. He was shrewd, handsome, and loyal. He didn’t have to be flashy about his power; you could see it in his eyes. Tyler may have looked like a harmless sidekick, but only because that’s what he wanted people to see. He wasn’t weak—not by a long shot. And he was no slave.
I couldn’t understand why Tyler had chosen this path. He’d known me for years. My personality hadn’t changed in that short time; I wasn’t charming or sweet or even remotely lovable. Why had he done this seemingly undoable thing? I didn’t even truly know how to break the bond. And if I could, would I want to? Tyler’s presence had begun to grow on me. I was tired of being alone, and he made me feel warm, protected, and almost normal. He’d sworn to keep me safe, but could I do the same for him? I was up to my eyeballs in danger, and I didn’t want him anywhere near it.
I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d hidden his true nature from me all this time. Did he think I’d care for him more as a hapless human? Had he worried that if I knew the truth, I’d send him away, or leave myself? I wouldn’t have—left him, that is—no matter what. Now I wondered which one of us had been enslaved.
Daybreak brought with it a drizzling, somber gray. Storm clouds hovered low over the cityscape, brushing the tops of the taller buildings, hiding them like tall turrets in a medieval kingdom. I closed the drapes over my picture window. A kingdom in any form was a grating reminder of the harsh new reality of my existence.
Raif showed up just in time to make an already bad morning worse. Dressed to blend in, he wore a pair of khaki slacks and a dress shirt. He looked ridiculous. I was so used to seeing him in his elfin getup that to me he seemed more out of place than ever. I snorted into my coffee cup and took a seat at the dining table.
“How are you feeling?” he asked as he took a seat across from me.
“I’m not dead,” I said in a flat, toneless way.
“No, you’re certainly not that,” he said. “But you are feeling . . . better?”
I shrugged.
“You are to report to the king’s estate at sundown,” Raif said. “Not a minute later.”
I resisted the urge to douse his face with the hot beverage in my hand. Ty had it easy. I was the slave. “What for?”
“It doesn’t matter what for,” Raif said with a sneer. He tossed a thick manila envelope across the table. It spun twice, coming to rest by my cup. �
�Double your fee. I believe those were your terms. I think you’ve been paid enough now. And Alexander wants you for some . . . freelance work.”
I guessed by his attitude that Raif wasn’t exactly a morning person. I lifted a hand to my forehead and gave a crisp salute. “Yes, sir.” I would have clicked my heels together, but that would have required standing up.
Raif didn’t stick around to chitchat, but instead headed straight for the lift. “Darian,” he said as he pulled the gate shut. “Dress appropriately.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I yelled as the lift disappeared below the floor.
“Work clothes.” Raif’s voice drifted up through the shaft.
“Work clothes,” I muttered under my breath as I stalked up the winding drive to Xander’s estate. Since I was fairly certain I wasn’t being asked to Xander’s to help with the gardening, I dressed in my usual ensemble: black pants, long-sleeve black V-neck shirt, and, of course, black boots.
I looked warily at a grouping of bushes, a rustling sound causing a burst of anxiety to rush through my bloodstream. Traveling in the gray hours of twilight had left me vulnerable. I’d been considerably shaken by the Lyhtan attack, and I didn’t like being at a disadvantage. Not one tiny bit. I’d lived almost a century believing I was invincible. And now . . . now I was no more immortal than any other creature that roamed the earth.
An unusual amount of activity surrounded Xander’s house. Guards had been placed strategically at every door, balcony, and gate. The glint of steel winked from each post, reflecting the artificial glow of the floodlights that had clicked on with the last trace of gray evening. I stood by the front door, observing the many Shaedes around me, feeling the weight of their glowing stares.
“You’re late,” a bitchy voice said from behind me.
I wondered what she was wearing tonight. Black studded leather with a whip to match? “Anya,” I said, turning toward the open door. “Does PETA know about you? I mean, seriously. How many innocent cows had to die to complete your god-awful wardrobe?”
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