Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

What happened next is still hazy in my memory. Surreal is the best way to describe it, but time meant something different to me. And though I’m sure everything passed in real time, to my perception it passed in the blink of an eye.

A falcon appeared out of the shadowed night, its white belly nearly scraping the top of my head in passing. Something glowed in the grip of its talons, a bright green gem dangling from a silver chain. The keening sound, like a war cry, screeched from the bird’s beak, and it dropped its cargo, tinkling at my feet before coming to rest. I looked to the sky, determined to track the bird’s passage. Climbing high above the streetlamp’s luminescence, it landed atop a nearby building as if waiting to see what I’d do.

The remnant left by the falcon cast a dull green glow at my feet; heat slithered up from the cobbles, warming my ankles through the heavy boots. And as if I needed a distraction-the protesting whine of tires sliding across pavement-a horn blared in warning, followed by the crunch of metal and plastic. Goddamn it .

Once the chain reaction started, it could only end in one place-right at my feet. I dipped and scooped the glowing green gem up in my hands and pushed, hard, with both feet, catapulting myself a good ten yards in the air. Shadow joined with flesh, consuming my physical body and concealing me in the safety of my Shaede form.

Both cars ground to a mangled halt where I’d stood, one stunned driver gripping her steering wheel. The other flew from his seat with adrenaline-infused speed, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he searched the space around and beneath his car. “Shit!” he hollered above the mounting commotion. “Did anybody see that? There was a girl standing right here! Right fucking here! What the hell happened to her?”

Feathery wisps, shades of my corporeal form, drifted to the street a good fifty yards from the crash scene. Red and white flashing lights bounced off the surrounding structures as the first fire trucks arrived on the scene. Emergency personnel swarmed their patients, and the man’s voice drifted down the street, echoing toward me. “…Right in front of my goddamned car. No, I haven’t been drinking! Jesus!”

The contents of my hand warmed my preternatural skin. Fist facing the sky, I slowly opened my palm, fingers unfolding like flower petals under a summer sun. A green gem, humming with energy and buried in a nest of pale silver rope, it shone like moonlight bouncing off a green sea. I took the delicate silver between my fingers, letting the gem dangle. Fathomless . The stone had an unmistakable depth to it that I could neither understand nor explain. As I looked deep into the softly glowing stone, infinity lay stretched out before me, with no beginning and no end, only endless green.

I’d never been hypnotized, but warmth seemed to blanket me. Calm blossomed from my chest, and the sound of time passing in my soul quieted for the barest moment. My mind went blank, and I felt as though I stood at the end of a long, dark tunnel, staring out at a tiny point of light. It was a universe away, yet just within my grasp.

The sense of peace passed like a breaker rolling in toward shore, and fear welled thick and hot in my throat to replace it. Fingers relaxed, the silver ropelike chain slipped from my grasp, the chiming tinkle of gem and silver against cobbles awakening me from my trance. Strobes of red and white light had been joined by blue, pulsing in my vision like a heartbeat. Green warmth radiated from the ground at my feet. I looked down, retrieved the pendulum in my fist, and stuffed it into my pocket. It didn’t want to be ignored, this bauble; its warmth soaked through my pocket and spread to my thigh.

Time to go home . This had been one hell of a night.

Stepping out of the old freight elevator that served as an entrance to my apartment, I found the studio empty. Tyler had stayed away, and that was saying a lot, considering how he preferred to be stuck to me like Super Glue lately. I was basically over the whole episode, but having a knife held to the chest by a loved one sends a pretty strong message. Though I regretted doing it after my temper cooled, I wasn’t quite ready to eat crow. He’d been wrong, plain and simple. And when I’ve been offended, I’m not a run-away-and-cry-in-my-pillow type of girl. I’m a jab-someone-with-something-sharp kind of girl, and if he wanted to be with me, he’d just have to get used to that.

I discarded my duster, hanging it on a dining room chair, and absentmindedly shucked my boots. I let my feet sink into the deep pile of carpeting that marked my living room and slid down onto the overstuffed chair, propping my feet up on the coffee table. Warmth pulsed at my thigh, and I dug in my pocket, pulling out my strange new bauble by the chain. The gem had grown dark, its previous glow a tiny twinkle of light somewhere in the fathomless center of green. What was this thing? It looked like a pendulum. The gem was a pointed teardrop, and the fastener of the chain was a large silver loop and toggle. Unfastened, the gem dangled from the toggle, allowing the chain to be held by the loop. It hummed with energy, a powerful magic, indeed.

I couldn’t just leave it sitting out, and I couldn’t trust anyone with the knowledge of its existence quite yet, so I shuffled to the kitchen, my socks skating across the polished oak floor. A quick jimmy loosened the bricks that made up the false wall, revealing my safe. After a turn to the left, right, and left again, I pulled the heavy door open wide, staring inside at all of the meager keepsakes of my long life, along with a few bundles of emergency cash. I placed my newfound trinket amongst all of my other secrets and on impulse reached deep into the safe, pulling out a stack of postcards rubber-banded together.

The heavy stock was yellowed with age, and the individual cards stuck to one another even after I’d removed the band. I flipped through the images, pictures of landmarks frozen in time, that started coming sometime around 1932. Las Vegas, Atlantic City, the Grand Canyon, San Francisco, New York…Lorik had bounced around a lot while running from his father’s murderers. I flipped the cards over. My address had been the only thing written on the cards, along with a single message: Wish you were here! It pissed Azriel off to no end that Lorik sent the damned things, and he never knew I’d kept them. But it connected me to someone else in the world besides just Azriel. Grounded me when I had no footing. And now, decades later, all Lorik had to show for his life was stacks of old postcards. I rewrapped the cards with the rubber band and shoved them to the back corner of the safe. As I shut the door, the pendant glowed bright green, as if in protest. I turned the lock, secured the loose bricks back into the wall, and tried to forget about not only the past, but the way that glowing stone had calmed the rush of time, if only for a moment.

I had no doubt the mysterious gift had been meant for me. But why? And the identity of my benefactor had me stewing. Could it have been the same person who’d killed the Lyhtan and tried to kill me? Hardly. Why would someone attempt to kill me and then give me a gift? Hey, great job not getting killed. Here’s a token of my admiration! No, whoever had sent the falcon to me had not been my alleged assassin, but the two were more than likely related. And my gift giver obviously had no intention of revealing himself. Otherwise he would have given me the pendulum in person. I leaned against my kitchen counter, massaging the worry line from the middle of my forehead with my fingertips as I racked my brain for some clue.

The studio felt barren-so empty, in fact, the feeling seeped right into the marrow of my bones. I shouldn’t have been so testy with Ty. He’d been trying to protect me, foolish though it might have been. And what had I done to thank him? I shoved my knife at his chest. Good job, Darian. Way to go . If I felt abandoned, I had no one to blame but myself. I’d been an arrogant ass, and I probably deserved to feel like shit. But it didn’t mean I had to like it.