Against the Dawn

by amanda bonilla

  Lorik wasn’t even pretending to pay attention. Good Lord, what was his deal? “I should have told you, but I couldn’t risk anyone finding out. Someone took out a contract on him. He was a scumbag piece of shit who killed an innocent woman to protect his business interests. I killed him, Lorik. I know you were looking forward to a business relationship with him, but it’s not going happen. I’m sorry.”

  He gave a slight shake of his head as though trying to dislodge a thought. “What? I don’t care about Mithras, Darian. My time is up and my stay in Seattle has come to an end.”

  What happened to wanting to put down roots? Reestablishing himself in the city? Lorik had been full of big plans and boastful claims. Now he simply sat on my couch, defeated. A total sad-sack. Talk about a total one-eighty.

  “You’re leaving,” I said. “Just like that.” True, I’d been preoccupied the past couple of weeks with putting the pieces of my life back together—not to mention focused on taking out Mithras—but there was so much I wanted to ask him. “So, what? You’re going to blow out of town like you breezed in without any sort of explanation? Jesus, Lorik. Where have you been all this time? What happened to you? Why did you quit sending the postcards? What’s the real reason you came back?” I had to pause to catch my breath. “You can’t show up here like no time whatsoever has passed without rhyme, reason, or explanation and then bail.”

  I had a hundred more questions. Questions I wasn’t ready to ask out loud. Did he ever cross paths with Azriel after he’d abandoned me? Did he know about Azriel’s plans to overthrow Xander’s throne? Or had Az kept him as much in the dark as he had me? What else was out there? What supernatural things did he know about? And why had he waited in the city for me when I’d gone off the grid six months ago?

  “Do you ever get tired of this endless existence, Darian?” Nervous energy licked up my spine at the dark tenor of his words. “I mean, it just goes on, and on, and on.”

  “Lorik, what’s this about?”

  He opened his fist and resting in his palm was the onyx poker chip. It gleamed in the low light of my apartment like moonlight shining on dark water. “This, Dariana, is what it’s about.”

  I stalked toward the living room, my arms folded across my chest. “You didn’t meet a sorceress who gifted you with immortality, did you, Lorik? That chip is a death marker, right? You owe a life debt.”

  He studied the chip as he rolled it along his knuckles, the act almost hypnotic. “How did Azriel die?”

  Back to this again? He was a master of deflection, that was for sure. Well, I could give as good as I got. “You’re trying to changing the subject, Lorik.”

  “You see, Darian, that’s the problem. I’m not.” His eyes finally met mine and they were hollow, void of emotion. “How did Azriel die?”

  What did he mean that was the problem? What did Azriel have to do with his life debt? “Leave the past in the past, Lorik. How he died isn’t important.”

  “I’m afraid it is. So please, tell me now before I lose my temper.”

  His voice was dead calm. The sort of calm that precedes a storm. My heart kicked against my ribs, internal alarms flashing red. I took a deep breath, couldn’t seem to muster the saliva necessary to moisten my dirt-dry mouth. “Why do you even care?”

  His eyes flashed with an angry fire and his lip curled into a sneer. “Why do you ask so many questions yet refuse to answer any?” The words hissed through Lorik’s clenched teeth and my nerves pulled taut at his mounting anger. “I asked you a goddamned question, Darian. Answer it.”

  Silence descended like a heavy mantle, stifling me with its heat. My face felt flush and acid churned in my stomach with the swiftness of a river current. I tried to take a deep breath, but my lungs seized up, too constricted for a decent breath. “I killed him,” I said barely above a whisper. “I cut his throat and he bled out in front of me.”

  Saying the words out loud gutted me. I felt like I was back in that moment. Standing in that room in Xander’s house as I watched Azriel die. Every ounce of air vacated my lungs in a painful rush that left me feeling hollow. The guilt of what I’d done, whether for the right or wrong reasons, was like mountain of rock slowly crushing me.

  Lorik let out a long, drawn out, sorrowful sigh and rose from the couch, crossing to where I lounged, one hip on the arm of the chair. He held out his hand. I laid my palm in his, wondering at his sudden offer of comfort. With his opposite hand he reached across us and before I could process what he was doing, fastened a golden cuff around my wrist. “Never gamble with what you can’t afford to lose,” he remarked. “Especially your soul.”

  Confusion swept over me as I jerked my hand out of his grasp. I shot upright and buckled, crashing to the floor as my knees gave out underneath me. “What is this thing?” I pulled and clawed at the cuff—no, manacle—circling my wrist, unable to remove it. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t move. My arms hung, lifeless at my sides, and my legs were iron weights holding me to the floor. “Lorik, answer me. What did you do to me?”

  “I always liked you, Darian. But I had no choice.”

  No choice in what? Dark spots swam in my vision as my anxiety mounted, a feeling of helplessness seizing me in an iron grip. I grasped for the power in my ring, willing a wish to form in my brain, but either I was slipping past the point of coherent thought, or the gold bracelet was negating the ring’s power.

  Lorik loomed over me, his face a mask of shame as he squatted down beside me. “I’m sorry, Darian. I hoped that it wasn’t true. That perhaps Azriel had died at someone else’s hand. I prayed that you weren’t to blame, or that you would at least lie to me. But you were always so damned truthful. There isn’t an ounce of deception in your blood.”

  He’d eat those words if he knew what a fuckup I’d turned into over the past couple of years. I opened my mouth to reply, but even my jaw refused to work right. Lorik produced a second gold manacle and slapped it on my opposite wrist. I damned near swooned as it drew on my power, further weakening me. I never should have trusted him. Never. I should have killed him the second he stepped foot back in Seattle…

  “The Rakshasa take their games of chance very seriously, Darian.” His conversational tone was unsettling considering the fact he was tying my arms and ankles with thick rope. “You don’t bet in currency. You gamble with your life. I admit that I got in a little over my head. And in the course of it, lost my soul. But my debt will be paid as soon I deliver you.”

  Dark spots swam in my vision and I had the sense of being pulled as though a string had been tied to the center of my chest as was slowly drawing me away. Fatigue pulled at my lids, and as I succumbed to the darkness, I heard Lorik say, “The Rakshasa Queen wants you, Darian. You have to pay for murdering her son.” My body lurched and suddenly I was falling through the blackness, tumbling into the unknown.

  And then, there was nothing.

  Epilogue

  Xander

  “Have you found her?”

  The boy stared at me, regret and fear reflected in the depths of his eyes. “No.”

  Rage pooled in my gut, spreading outward to my limbs. I turned and swept the contents from the nearest desk with both arms, the force sending objects flying into the opposite wall. I rounded on Asher, my fists clenched as I fought the urge to strike him. Pummel him without mercy until my fear, my unmitigated sorrow numbed to a manageable degree. “You were to stay by her side at all times.” Another swell of emotion surged in my chest and I released it in a bellow that left me trembling. “You allowed her to be taken!”

  He went down on one knee before me and bowed his head. Asher’s own voice cracked with emotion and was heavy with regret. “I accept full responsibility, my liege. She sent me away and I thought—”

  “You didn’t think,” I said from between clenched teeth. “And as a result, handed her over to her captor.” Asher bowed his head lower but had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. I turned my back on him to once again face the wall of monitors, one o
f which was connected to the video feed outside of Darian’s building. “Take yourself from my sight and do not show your face here again until I bid it.”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  My gaze cast downward to the floor. The pattern of the carpet blurred out of focus and I continued to stare until my eyes burned in their sockets. Another wave of unrestrained rage swelled within me. So helpless, despite my position and power.

  “You were too hard on the boy. This is not his fault.”

  Raif. The ever present voice of reason. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter.” From the rubble on the floor, I retrieved the remote control and replayed the footage recorded a week ago. I studied the face of the man waiting at the top of the steps for Darian to let him into her building. With the press of a button, I switched to the feed inside her apartment, watched as he slipped the gold cuffs around her wrists. Watched as she stumbled and fell to the floor.

  My steps were measured as I approached the monitor. I reached up, traced my finger over the image of her face on the screen. The air squeezed from my lungs at her expression of disbelief and then the hurt as she realized she’d been betrayed. When I found the man who took her, I vowed to slowly choke the life from his lungs with my own hands. I wanted him to see his death reflected in my eyes and know that I deliver a swift punishment to those who think to hurt the ones I love.

  “We’ll find her. I promise you that.”

  Raif’s voice echoed my own distress. He loved her as well. Worried for her. Felt the same rage that someone had dared to take her from us. “What do you know?”

  Finding Darian had become my sole focus, every resource at my disposal committed to that task. At this moment, Raif’s designated teams were scouring the city—the entire state—for any sign of her.

  “If Lorik was in contact with anyone else during his time here, we’ve yet to find them,” Raif replied. “It seems as though his purpose in returning was to fetch Darian. Though for what reason, or for who, I do not know.”

  “The cuffs?” Only a coward could have acted in such a deceptive manner, luring her into a sense of security only to shackle her. Her strength was immeasurable, her power greater even than mine. Those damned gold bracelets had done something to her. Weakened her. The bastard couldn’t have taken her otherwise.

  “I’m looking into it. So far, I’ve uncovered nothing.”

  “Nothing.” The word grated on my ears. I launched the remote control at the wall and it shattered into pieces. “Come to me again with that word on your lips, Raif and I’ll banish you from my sight as well. Do you understand me?”

  The very air became permeated with my brother’s ire. “Treat me as though I’m nothing more than the dirt clinging to your boots, brother, and you’ll have one less ally. Do you understand me?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and released a sigh that did nothing to ease my pent up anger. I’d been pushing Raif for weeks—no, months—testing his patience with my stubbornness. And now this… Darian’s disappearance was a burden I wasn’t sure our already tenuous relationship could bear. I couldn’t afford to lose his support, not when so much hung in the balance. “I apologize.” Though it went against my nature—my very station—to apologize, I did so with grace and honesty. A king apologizes to no one, even when he’s in the wrong. Even if he’s offended his own blood. Raif deserved mine, though. His value was without parallel, his loyalty unquestioning. And I realized that, like me, the lack of any concrete knowledge ate away at him.

  “We’re working on retrieving audio from the surveillance footage. We’re lucky we have what we do. Darian has a tendency to turn off the camera, or audio, and sometimes both. If we can salvage that, there’s a chance we’ll know where she’s been taken.”

  Exhaustion weighed heavily, each individual muscle of my body strung taut. I hadn’t slept well in months, but now…I rarely slept at all. “I’ll be in my suite. You’ll tell me if—”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” Raif said, cutting me off.

  The trek up the stairs from the small security office in the basement floor was as steep and taxing as a climb to the top of Mount Everest. The main floor of the house was quiet. Too quiet. The stillness prickling the hairs on my neck. When I reached the stairway that led to the second floor, I paused as memories assaulted me. A vision of her, soft and willing in my arms, as we tripped and sprawled out on the stairs. The wild curls of her hair tumbling over my shoulder as she kissed me with abandon. Her skin, so soft and fragrant, her voice in my ear, rich and decadent as sweet cream.

  There wasn’t an inch of my body that didn’t ache with want of her.

  The trek up the stairs to my private rooms proved as arduous a task, each step an insurmountable obstacle. I wanted privacy, but every moment spent in this space was a torture that tore through flesh and cut through muscle, leaving the nerves in my body raw and exposed. I went to my knees in front of the plush sofa where, months ago, she’d stretched her body out for me like an offering. She’d belonged to me that night. Mine.

  I splayed my fingers over the fabric, buried my face into the cushions and inhaled deeply. My fingers curled, clawing at the upholstery. Not a trace of her scent remained…

  “Alexander.”

  Gods, as though the humiliation I felt at being laid low by a woman wasn’t enough, Anya bore witness to my weakness firsthand. She’d been a witness to it every day for the past six months. And yet, I didn’t order her to leave. Didn’t move a muscle to pick myself up off the floor.

  Anya’s footsteps were light as thistledown as she crossed the room, her weight insubstantial as she lowered herself to the sofa beside me. I peered up at her gentle countenance and my gaze landed on the swell of her belly, a pang of regret stabbing at my chest as I was reminded of the loss she’d suffered. What a foolish, selfish son of a bitch I was.

  She laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, her warmth permeating the fabric of my shirt. “It is unfitting for a king to put himself lower than his subject.”

  “I am not a king in this moment,” I said. “I am nothing.” I never spoke so freely with anyone. Not even my own brother. Anya was my friend, my confidant. To her, I laid myself bare.

  “You are a fool.” And neither did she pull any punches with me. Her voice was soft and rich with emotion, though. Not pity. She knew how I felt because we shared a similar pain. “A sad, relentless fool.”

  “Is that all?” I said with a snort.

  “No. You’re also stubborn and deluded.”

  “Such compliments,” I replied. “My head will swell from the praise.”

  “Get up off the floor and sit with me.” Anya tugged my arm. “If you don’t I’ll have to lower myself to the floor and once there, I might not manage to get myself back up.”

  Her pregnancy was nearing its end, and she complained often about her awkwardness. She compared herself to a penguin daily. I wouldn’t allow her to sit on the hard floor and so I dragged my body from its kneeling position and settled down beside her. “Does this suit you?”

  “Much better,” she replied.

  “What would you have me do, Anya?” My kingdom was in turmoil, my life unraveling at the seams. But I couldn’t leave here without her. I wouldn’t.

  “Find a woman to service you,” she suggested. “Someone beautiful, witty, and pliant. Lock yourself in a room with her for a week and fuck Darian out of your system.”

  Most days I appreciated her lack of subtlety. Today was not one of those days. “And simply abandon Darian to her fate?”

  “Send the Jinn after Darian. He wants her, let him have her.”

  “We don’t even know for sure where she is or who has her.”

  “He’ll find her,” Anya replied with a sneer. “He scents her like a hound on the hunt.”

  True. The bastard had a way of sensing her no matter where she might be. A result of their bond, no doubt. A bond I wished I could cut like a length of ribbon. She would never be truly mine as long as she
was connected to him in that way. I’d taken the first step to severing that bond by having him arrested. If Anya thought I’d arrange to release him now, she didn’t know me very well.

  “The Jinn are an abomination to the natural order. I won’t suffer his presence for a moment longer.” They were unnatural creatures, the lot of them. And too powerful for their own good. Gods in the guise of men whose egos were so great that they humbled themselves to the world in the name of selflessness and protection. I almost laughed at the irony of it all.

  “She could die without his help. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

  “How can I prove myself worthy of her if I can’t even protect her, Anya? If I run to that piece of shit for help, I am admitting I’m the lesser male.”

  “It is she who does not deserve you,” Anya murmured. “And I do not doubt your capability to not only find her but protect her. But Alexander, you have more pressing matters to deal with.”

  Indeed. Saben, that treasonous son of a bitch. Ready and willing to step into my shoes, it seemed. He was already pressing his case by using his status as my first cousin to establish a blood tie to the royal line. His claim could be considered legitimate by some. “Saben plays with fire,” I said absently. “He’ll need more than a quick mind and ambition to usurp my throne.”

  “A male needs little more than ambition, Alexander, to achieve his goals. Are you not walking proof of that?”

  “I can do both,” I remarked. “Find her and protect my throne.”

  “Truly?” Anya said with disbelief. “I didn’t know you were capable of being in two places at once. You are indeed impressive, my liege.”

  She placed a comforting hand in my palm and I gripped her fingers, twining them with mine. “I beg you, Xander. Leave Darian’s recovery to Tyler. Tend to your house, put your kingdom in order. And send a message to your detractors that thoughts of treason will not be tolerated. Now, before Saben gains any more traction.”

  I turned to face her, her bright violet eyes shining with concern. Pregnancy had changed her. Softened her somehow. She would make an excellent mother, of that I was certain. There were days in my foolish imaginings that I pictured myself a father. Cradling a babe in my arms. And for the past year, there was only one woman in my fantasies when I pictured that conjured child’s mother.