If the cloud of my shadow-self could have generated lightning and thunder from my rage, the apartment would have been toast.
“I’m not doing this with you now,” own breath raced and my voice shook with emotion as I regained my solid form. “Go home, Xander. Cool off.”
A crease dug deep into Xander’s regal brow, his teeth clenched to the point that it squared his jaw. Myriad emotions flashed in his expression and they burrowed into my skin, my very soul until I felt each and every one of them. I’d really stepped in it this time. Of all the mistakes I’d made in my long life, toying with Xander’s affections was the one I regretted the most.
He took a step toward me and I held out my palm. “Don’t.” Tears stung at my eyes as the anxiety I felt threatened to eat me alive from the inside out. I forced the words out in a choked sob. “Please, Xander. Just, don’t.”
His gaze wandered to my outstretched hand, trembling like an autumn leaf in tumultuous wind. His expression softened, if only a little. “Your Jinn’s time has run out, Darian. I will give him no quarter for the disrespect he paid me last year. It is time for him to be brought to justice.”
Without another word, Xander’s corporeal form evaporated, blowing my hair back in a gust of fragrant wind. And with that final declaration, he was gone.
I’d played with fire. But Tyler would feel the burn.
After Xander’s dramatic visit—and exit—sleep wasn’t only impossible, it was downright laughable. My stomach churned with nervous energy, roiling like angry thunderheads and my brain buzzed as I formulated a plan of attack. I was beginning to suspect that Tyler’s power surpassed any supernatural I’d ever encountered, but it was the pesky rules created to keep him in check that had me worried. The Shaede king was no fool. Xander would exploit any weakness in Ty’s armor. And you could bet your ass, he’d be searching for every single chink.
With two days free from Lorik’s hovering presence, I didn’t have much time to mop up the sloppy mess of my personal life. But I planned to use my time constructively. First up was a visit with Reaver, then I’d figure out a way to temper Xander’s vengeful anger. With any luck, Raif could give me a hand in that department. Though his loyalty to his brother—and his king—was unwavering, I had to hope that he could recognize why this ridiculous hostility had to come to an end.
Not far from Xander’s mini-palace in the heart of Capitol Hill, was Reaver’s impressive, though slightly more modest house. As I stepped up on the covered porch, his protective wards swirled at my feet like sniffing hounds and finally retreated like an ebbing tide once they recognized I wasn’t a threat. ADT would have killed for the type of protection some supernatural creatures were able to create with nothing more than a few spoken words and a flick of the wrist.
Reaver greeted me at the door before I even had the opportunity to knock. Odds were, he could hear the thoughts banging around in my head before I’d even cleared the front steps. Sidhe were unsettling creatures to say the least. Old, powerful, and probably in possession of three-quarters of the world’s mysteries, they put out this sort of vibe that warned, Keep your distance.
This particular Sidhe and I were on the same team, though. Sort of. Reaver was the Timekeeper of the mortal realm, one half of a pair entrusted to keep the natural order in line. Reaver wasn’t mine to protect, that particular task was the responsibility of his sister, Moira. I looked after the flip-side of the coin, the Timekeeper of the Faerie realm, Raif’s daughter, Brakae.
“What’s shakin’, Reaver?” I strode right past him and into the foyer. He wasn’t going to dismiss me at the door like some sort of vacuum cleaner salesman. Nope. I wasn’t leaving until I got some answers.
“Is there a problem with the wards at your building?” he inquired as he quietly closed the door behind me. His stiff, formal presence always put a smile on my face. Like me, I had a feeling that Reaver had a hard time cutting loose. “A simple phone call would have sufficed.”
“The wards are fine.” I strolled into his living room and threw myself down into a chair. “Thanks, by the way.” I really did feel safer with them in place. From the corner of my eye, I spied Reaver making his way into the room, lips pursed, eyes narrowed. Someone didn’t appreciate social calls.
“Then to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” He took a seat on the opposite chair, his grace a complete oxymoron to my own awkward flop. One ankle came up to rest on his knee and his elbows lighted on the armrests of the chair as he steepled his long fingers in front of him. His ice-blue eyes drilled into me as he dug around inside my brain. After a moment, one corner of his full mouth tilted into a half-smile. “Ah. I see.”
Creepy.
“So? What do you know?”
“I know you’re a fool for inquiring in the first place,” Reaver replied. “Especially after agreeing not to. You should abandon your search for answers now, while there’s still hope to save your neck. My sister finds you an adequate protector and Brakae seems to like you as well. It would be a shame to have to induct a new guardian now.”
Hey! Low blow. I’d show him adequate. Reaver’s eyes crinkled with amusement and I let out a huff of breath. Stupid mind readers. “Are you saying that the Synod is dangerous?”
“I’m saying that any being with the power to decimate worlds should be regarded with respect, and not a little fear.”
Whoa. Back the truck up. “Decimate as in—” I made an explosion motion with my hands and added sound effects to match. “Kaboom!”
Reaver hiked an indifferent shoulder. “More or less.”
Jesus. I always knew Ty was packing some serious mojo, but this went way beyond my imaginings. “For the record, when I think of a being with the power to decimate worlds, one word comes to mind.”
“You can call them gods if you wish,” Reaver remarked. “Though most would cast off that label. The Jinn don’t want to be worshiped, after all. They’ve chosen an existence of servitude.”
Jesus. Like, literally.
I knew my jaw was hanging open like a baby bird waiting to be fed but for the life of me, I couldn’t get my damned trap to shut. Reaver lowered his hands and regarded me with that same mild amusement that made me feel like I’d come over for the sole purpose of giving him a good laugh. “I think this is the first time since I met you that your mind is as absent of thought as your mouth is for words.”
I felt like there was an insult in there somewhere but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. “So basically what you’re telling me is that Jinn are these omnipotent god-like beings who could blow up the planet in the blink of an eye. And since they had the good sense to realize that probably wasn’t a good thing, this Synod created all of these rules and regulations for them to follow in order to keep them from becoming power-hungry overlords?”
“More or less,” Reaver said. “Even as old as I am, I can’t boast much knowledge of their kind. I only know what’s been passed down through the ages and before I met your Jinn, I’d never had occasion to come in contact with one before. They’re few. And elusive. They mask their power in order to remain hidden.”
I’d suspected that for a while. Ty’s energy rippled over me like tropical ocean waves. It didn’t scream power. “That night, when he came here to get me, what sort of vibe did he give off? You know, power-wise?”
Before I realized that Reaver and I played for the same team, Faolán had convinced me to steal from him the half of his hourglass that kept time in the mortal realm in order. Needless to say, he hadn’t been very happy about it and Moira had nearly taken my head off before Ty showed up to save the day.
“He is powerful, Darian,” Reaver answered. His gaze locked with mine. “Dangerously so. And his love for you makes that power volatile.”
We’re not meant to love the ones we protect.
Adira’s words flashed in my mind, drawing a curious expression from Reaver. I wasn’t going to justify his eavesdropping with an explanation, though. “Is there anything else you can tell me?
Anything at all?” I was so tired of the cloak and dagger bullshit. Didn’t anyone outside of the Jinn population have any reliable intel?
“Darian, you truly have a knack for demanding more of the universe than it is willing to give. There are mysteries in this world. Questions that will never be answered. Your greatest flaw is your lack of faith.”
I had many, many flaws, but I’d never considered my lack of faith to climb to first place. It was easy for Reaver to preach about faith and trust. He’d probably never been lied to, deceived, kept in the dark for a century or so, without a single clue as to the scope of his existence.
His sad laughter hit a nerve that sent a jolt of pain through my gut. “Do you think the humans, wandering about their lives have a clue as to the scope of their existence? For that matter, do you think Brakae does? Or me? Or even your Jinn? You are not alone in your doubts and fears, and likewise, you cannot hope to achieve the level of control you yearn for. Let the misdeeds of the past go, Darian. Holding on is as futile as trying to capture the water in your palm that has already passed downstream.”
I’m sure we could’ve spent most of the day pulling back all of my dysfunctional layers. I wondered, did the supernatural community have therapists? Because I probably needed one. Reaver kept his trap shut on that particular thought and I bypassed talking about my shortcomings for the real reason I’d come here today.
Reaver cocked his head to the side, as though confused by my thoughts. Well, that was unsettling. I was hoping to find someone, anyone besides Tyler who could shed a little light on my ring.
“May I?” Reaver extended his hand.
I pushed myself from the chair and crossed the room to where Reaver was seated. “It doesn’t like to come off,” I said with a shrug. “Adira, another Jinn, called it Nys’Asdar. Have you ever heard of it?”
“I’ve lived for millennia, Darian, and I’ve never heard mention of such a thing. A Jinn relic, perhaps?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“And you say that you can’t remove the ring?”
I held out my hand and Reaver inspected the simple silver band on my thumb without touching. “Well, not exactly. It’s hard to explain. It’s not that it won’t come of per se, it’s just that when I try to take it off, I…can’t.”
He gave me a look that indicated how helpful my explanation was. Reaver took my hand in his and he passed his thumb over the ring. One tawny brow arched curiously and he ran the pad of his thumb over the silver once again, this time lingering. “I sense a great deal of power in this ring, but this is no relic, Darian.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I do not know. I will tell you that I sense life within the metal. Living, breathing, thriving.”
“Alive?” The thought almost made me want to shake it from my thumb and throw it across the room. After today I was laying down the law: no one was allowed to give me strange or otherwise enchanted gifts ever again. “Is it like this?” I pulled one of the daggers from its sheath and held it out to Reaver, hilt first. He reached out and I pulled back just a bit. “Don’t touch it. It’s warded against anyone but me. It feels alive sometimes. Like it’s conveying emotion, urging me to fight or defend myself. And sometimes it gives me this mad burst of confidence and levels me up skill wise.”
Reaver pulled his hand back but didn’t seem as concerned about the dagger as he did my ring. “I know this dagger. It has a twin, no?”
“Yeah…”
“They’re nothing,” he said with a flick of his wrist. “Enchanted, yes. Helpful in battle, of course. But your daggers are not sentient, Darian. They merely project a reflection of your own will and emotions.”
I supposed that was good to know. I would have liked to know how Reaver came by his info but since he gave me a look that indicated that his lips were sealed, I didn’t bother giving voice to the thought.
“The Shaede King must hold you in high esteem to pass yet another of his forefather’s weapons to you. I would imagine his brother wept at such a loss.”
Another? I’d had a feeling that the daggers were a family heirloom, what with Xander and Raif referring to them as birthrights and all. But the only other weapon Xander had given me was… “Wait. Are you saying that my katana belonged to one of Xander’s forefathers too?”
Reaver merely flashed me an infuriatingly calm smile. Looked like I had more than Xander’s issue with Ty to discuss with his royal pain in the ass. “I wish I could be of more help to you Darian, but I will say this: Do not treat the power inherent in that ring lightly. I sense that you’ve yet to unlock even one of its many mysteries, and do not forget that whatever has been trapped in the silver might not be happy with you should it find its way out.”
Can you say ominous? A ripple of anxiety rolled in my stomach as I sheathed my dagger. The bounty of today’s visit hadn’t been quite as fruitful as I’d hoped, but I hadn’t come away empty handed, either. “Thanks for the warning, Reaver. I’ll be careful. And thanks for the information. I appreciate that you leveled with me.”
“One more thing, Darian. I would suggest keeping everything I’ve told you here today a secret. Of the very little I know about the Jinn, I do know that the Synod is not to be trifled with. Take care not to draw their attention.”
“Got it.” I’d already attracted the attention of a collector. I didn’t think I wanted to Synod on that bandwagon as well.
“Collector?” Reaver asked. Ugh! Stupid mind readers.
“It’s not important.” Yet. “A story for some other time.”
“Of course. My door is always open to you, guardian. But might I suggest sticking to a schedule the next time you choose to visit?”
Okay, so maybe I was every bit as bad as a vacuum cleaner salesman. “You got it, Reaver. See ya on the flip side.”
Chapter Twenty
Luckily, I didn’t have far to go to get to Xander’s house. That’s not to say that when I got to his front door, I wasn’t ready to tuck tail and go back the way I came. This was bound to be a very awkward, hostile, and uncomfortable conversation. A turning point between us that we might not bounce back from. A profound sense of loss settled on me as I turned the knob and stepped into the foyer. I did love Xander in my own dysfunctional way. And I considered him my family.
Right now, I didn’t have that many people in my life that I could spare to petty arguments and feuds.
I passed Raif on the way to Xander’s study. My friend didn’t utter a word as I passed, only gave me the saddest, most apologetic look I’d ever seen. Shit. Goddamned Xander and his heavy-handed, overzealous, entitled bullshit! Sensing the need for a little urgency, I picked up my pace, hoofing it for the Shade King’s study. The door was closed but I was past the point of pleasantries and barged right in, throwing the door open with a crack as it bounced off the opposite wall. Standing in front of his ornate desk was one very pregnant, very shocked looking Anya.
When I’d left this plane for the Faerie Realm, Anya’s pregnancy hadn’t even begun to show. What a difference six months made… And though she looked like she was sporting a large watermelon under the flowing linen of her billowing shirt, I couldn’t deny that she was absolutely radiant.
“Darian, have you lost your mind? You can’t just walk in on the king like this.” Time might have shown a change in her body, softening her strong, lithe form, but a prickle of the animosity between us gave her one sharp edge. She was entitled to it, though. I’d failed to keep her husband alive. I would bear the brunt of whatever she wanted to throw at me for as long as she needed to.
“I have to talk to Xander.” Just because I was turning the other cheek didn’t mean I was backing down, though. “And unless you want a front row seat to one hell of a tiff, Anya, I’d suggest you leave.”
Anya deferred to Xander who said, “You may go. I’ll leave the matter we discussed in your hands.”
She bowed her head. “It will be done, my liege.”
And though I kn
ew she was still angry with me, blamed me for things that were out of my control, even Anya looked at me with pity as she left Xander’s office.
My stomach bottomed out and hit my heels like a boulder dropped from a thousand feet. “Would you care to explain why everyone is looking at me like I’ll be attending a funeral soon?”
I was met by the same cold hurt I’d seen in Xander’s eyes last night. The vengeful gleam that hinted of a coming storm. “Is there something I can do for you, Darian? I really am busy this afternoon and—”
“Stop!” The word burst from my lips. “Just stop this. I don’t know what you want from me, Xander. But I can tell you that hurting Tyler isn’t going to do anything for our relationship.”
His eyes narrowed and I took a step back. I’d never felt threatened by Xander. His cocky demeanor had always been playful and even when I managed to piss him off I knew he took it in stride. He pushed out his chair and stood, palms flat on the surface of the desk, his powerful arms bracing him. “Close the door.”
Did I really want to be shut up in a room with an angry Xander? Probably not. But I decided that the last thing I needed was to make him angrier than he already was, so I crossed the room and quietly closed the door. Besides, if he got too rowdy, I was pretty sure Raif would come to my rescue.
At least, I hoped.
“There are days, Darian,” he said on a sigh, “where I believe that you will be my undoing.” I swallowed down the lump that had risen in my throat as my stomach turned and twisted in on itself. “I told you on the night that we sent Dimitri’s soul into the shadows that I could not be perceived as unable to rule. That my detractors would scent blood in the water and exploit any weakness without a moment’s hesitation. Do you remember?”
Of course I did. To my perception, the conversation had taken place mere weeks ago. I remembered thinking that I had all the time in the world to change Xander’s mind. That once I took down Kade, I’d be able to temper his rage and need to make Tyler pay. Boy, was I ever wrong. “I would never ask you to do anything that would jeopardize your kingdom, Xander. Justice is one thing. Punishment, another. I saw it in Raif’s eyes when I walked through your door. Anya’s when she walked past me a moment ago. You’re not planning to bring Tyler to justice. You want to punish him.”
Against the Dawn Page 18