Against the Dawn (36 page)

“Can you um, unfreeze them?”

“Maybe.” I mean, I’d frozen them, after all. “But not until we’re long gone. I don’t have any fight left in me tonight.”

“Fair enough. I’ll call Raif. Maybe he can spare a few people to come over and take care of the stragglers?”

“No.” I didn’t want to put Raif in a situation where he might feel obligated to call in someone from the PNT. “This needs to stay off the books, Ash. It’s how I work. Got it?” In other words: don’t you dare tell another fucking soul about what went down here tonight.

“Okay,” he said. “Sure. No problem, Darian.”

If he had any trepidation about cutting Mithras’s guys loose, he didn’t share them with me. We left the temple and once outside, Asher joined with the shadows. I looked back, twisted the ring on my finger and grazed the bear carving as I wished the men inside the temple free. A cold chill raced up my arm but other than that, I had no idea if I’d managed to release them from whatever magic held them.

I understood Tyler’s need for discretion, but when he was released from custody, we were going to have a nice,
long
chat. My boots crunched on the graveled driveway and then grew silent as I shed my corporeal form in favor of shadow. Held in the warm embrace of darkness and with the wind at my back, I chased after Asher back toward the city.

“Proof of death,” I said to Levi as I dropped the horn in his hand. His eyes were like platters, large and round as I recounted what had gone down at Mithras’s temple.

“Shit, Darian. That’s one for the record books.”

“Tell me about it.” Mithras had kicked my ass. My shoulder still ached though the damage had healed and my body was bruised from head to toe. I’d left out one huge chunk of my story, though. Levi didn’t need to know about the sixteen men I’d immobilized with nothing more than a thought. Nor did he need to know that I suspected Ty’s ring had lent me the magic to see it done.

“Hey, who was that guy who was in here earlier tonight?” I asked. “The one who’d been sitting at the end of the bar?”

“Hmmm.” Levi canted his head as though trying to remember. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember seeing anyone…” Liar. His discomfort was written all over his face. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” I rotated my shoulder and winced as the muscle pulled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow. If the client needs any more information, let me know. I’m beat. Gonna head home.”

“Okay, Darian. See you tomorrow.”

His tone was heavy with concern but I brushed it off. The thought that I couldn’t trust Levi wore on my mind. Tyler didn’t have the same misgivings, but the fact that he wanted me to be wary around Levi was reason enough for me to be suspicious of him. I headed out of the bar, unsurprised to find Ash waiting for me outside the door. I knew it was his job to keep an eye on me, but I really,
really
needed some time alone to decompress.

“Go home, ’kay? I appreciate you coming with me tonight but you don’t need to waste your time following me around tonight.”

“Xander would have my ass if—”

“Ash,” I cut him off. I kept my tone as gentle as I could, which considering how damned tired I was, wasn’t much of a stretch. “I’m going straight home and to bed. I’m exhausted. I can’t even form a coherent thought at this point. The place is warded and secured. I need to be alone. Understand?”

His lips upturned into a sad, but knowing smile. “I get it. But go straight home. And text me when you get there. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I wasn’t going to shake him. He was more stubborn than I was. But if I could wrangle even a few hours to myself, I’d take them. “Deal. See you tomorrow.”

He pulled me in for a quick hug that coaxed a lump to surface in my throat. “You really did kick some epic ass tonight. Later, Darian.”

I watched as he stepped into the shadow of the building, away from the glare of the streetlights. As smooth as a ribbon of satin, he became one with that darkness and disappeared.

The solitude was welcome, but damn it made me feel more alone than ever.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When I got to my building, I fired off a quick text to Asher letting him know I’d made it safe. It was only a few blocks after all, but I liked that he was looking out for me. I didn’t bother with the elevator, simply floated up to the second floor as my shadow-self. As I regained my corporeal form I felt like an extra from an episode of
The Walking Dead
, my boots scraping on the floor with my shuffling zombie steps.

For the duration of my three-block walk, my thoughts had been of Ty and nothing else. Was he okay? Were they feeding him? Was he warm? Comfortable? Okay, so I knew that jails of any kind weren’t designed with the comfort of the imprisoned in mind, but I wanted this to be as easy for him as possible. How much of his magic had Adare managed to nullify? All of it? None? Keeping my distance from the PNT facility was going to be tough when all I could do was worry that Tyler wasn’t okay. If anyone laid even a finger on him, I was going to make them pay.

I removed Xander’s daggers from my belt and tucked them back in their box. It seemed that each time I used them, it became harder to part with them. Which was why they weren’t coming out of that box for a good, long while. I shucked my katana and hung it above the fireplace, my eyes tracing each detail lovingly. Now that I knew the sword had been passed down to Xander through the generations, I was starting to think that I should give it back. Especially after Raif had been so outraged that his brother gave me the daggers, too. I should give them all back. Every single thing he’d ever given me. I looked around my apartment, every piece of furniture, art, and appliance courtesy of the Shaede King. Looked like I might be going shopping soon.

I needed to make a clean break from him if I was going to convince him to go home. If I didn’t, he’d use the opportunity to continue to wear me down. And the fact of the matter was, I wasn’t sure how long I’d last. I’d been truthful when I told Xander that I loved him. Part of me would always love him. But I wanted Tyler. I needed him. And when faced with the question of which one I couldn’t live without I knew the answer. Ty. It would always be Ty. God, my love life was a wreck. I had a lot to think about, but right now I needed to sleep.

With a quick kick, I shucked one boot and then the other. My duster was next, leaving me in my long-sleeved shirt and stretchy black pants. I was too tired to even finish undressing. The memory foam of my mattress called, a siren song I couldn’t resist. Mid-flop, the door buzzer went off, the annoying sound drilling straight into my already aching skull. I was going to
kill
whoever was outside my door, be it friend or foe. I hopped up off the bed and stalked to the intercom on the wall, pounding down the button with my thumb.

“Whoever the hell you are,
go
away
.”

“It’s Lorik.”

Ugh. “Lorik, I’m beat and want to go to bed.” Jeez, he was a pain in the ass. Seriously, who drops by for a visit at two o’clock in the morning? “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No. It can’t. Can I come up?”

“Fine.” I hit the button to let him in and disengaged the alarm as I expelled a low, drawn out groan. God, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open and I swore if Lorik even tried to drag me out of this apartment for whatever reason, I was going to dismember him and enjoy every minute of it.

Moments later, the elevator stopped at the second floor and opened up into the living room. Lorik stepped out, his usual neat and tidy-self looking more than a little undone.
Jesus
, w
hat now?

He strode into the living room and made himself at home, settling in on the couch. His haggard appearance made me nervous, as did the shift of his eyes that seemed reluctant to focus on me. Word sometimes traveled quickly in the supernatural world. If Lorik already knew that I’d killed Mithras, it might explain why he looked so butt hurt. But really, Mithras wasn’t the only game in town. It wouldn’t be tough for Lorik to find a new gravy train to jump aboard. I settled onto the arm of the chair opposite him. Might as well get it all out in the open now.

“I take it this isn’t a social call. You’ve heard about Mithras.”

He raised his head, gaze unfocused. “Hmmm?”

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?”