Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

We loaded her into a sleek black Lincoln Navigator, and I couldn’t help but feel a little “covert ops” riding around with the SUV’s tinted glass windows shutting out the world. Raif sat shotgun while I sat in back with Delilah. A Shaede I’d never met before drove us; his straight back and serious countenance in Raif’s presence told me chauffeuring us around town was the high point of his life. Raif was just one of those sorts. No matter whom he met, people wanted to please and impress him. I hated to admit, I did too.

We drove toward the outskirts of the city, away from the Sound and the noise and the people. Crowded streets became an open four-lane freeway, and within twenty minutes we were leaving Seattle behind. “Care to tell me where we’re headed?” I asked, willing to test Raif’s foul mood.

“Away from the city,” Raif said, staring out the window.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I could tell that on my own.”

Raif didn’t take the bait, and I folded my arms, put out that I hadn’t been able to engage him. Another fifteen minutes of our prisoner’s crazed mumbling filled my aching ears before we turned onto a paved and gated drive. Our driver stopped, pushed a button on an intercom, and waited.

“State your business,” a crisp male voice said through the speaker.

“We’ve come to deliver High King Alexander’s prisoner,” our driver said. “The Oracle, Delilah.”

The gates whined, slowly opening, and we passed through with considerably less fanfare than I expected. Our driver nodded in greeting as we passed the guard station a few yards past the gate, and he waved us on. I marked the passage of another two minutes and forty-four seconds as we drove up the winding drive before coming to a stop in front of a mirrored glass building, bigger than a grocery store, but considerably smaller than a skyscraper.

“PNT Washington headquarters?” I ventured.

Raif nodded his head.

He didn’t wear a CIA-issued black suit, but the PNT’s security escort looked no less intimidating. My bones hummed in my body, a reaction to the energy projected by the man approaching us, no doubt Fae. I’d become quite astute at recognizing other creatures by the way their energy made me feel, and the Fae, well, standing next to them was like wrapping myself up in a vibrating massage pad. Not an altogether unpleasant sensation.

“Raif.” The tall Fae with auburn hair greeted us, his eyes the color of forest moss. His build was lean, though I could tell every inch of him beneath his black military-style garb was corded with muscle. A short saber hung at one side and a set of knives at the other. He reached out his hand, and Raif took it before standing aside.

“Adare, this is Darian. Darian, meet Adare.”

I stepped forward, looking him straight in the eye as we shook hands. “So, are you running this show?”

“Cordial, this one,” Adare scoffed. “Bet she’s fun to hang around.”

Raif smiled as he led the way back to the SUV, where Delilah sat, still blathering on about absolutely nothing. “She’s been like this since we found her,” Raif said. “Frankly, I’m glad to be done with her. Will you be taking her to Portland straightaway?”

Adare looked Delilah over in the way a three-year-old looks with terrified awe at a stalking tiger caged at a zoo. Little bat-shit crazy Delilah had warriors crawling out of their skin. I had to admire her intimidation tactics. Raif inclined his head, and I ducked inside the vehicle. “Come on, Delilah. The train stops here. The PNT is going to babysit you for a while.”

I reached for her arm to pull her out when she lurched forward. Her sour breath hit my face before she laid her cheek to mine, her mouth close to my ear. “You belong to the Man now. Maybe he’ll introduce you to Brakae before he kills everyone you love.”

My fingers constricted around Delilah’s bony arm. Raif was right. We should have killed her and done the council a favor. “I don’t respond well to threats,” I said. “Especially ones from bony-assed bitches like you. Threaten me again and you won’t make it to Portland to stand trial-you got me?”

Delilah giggled in my ear, the sound sending rivers of chills across my flesh. “He will become the master of time and command the Keeper. He will finish what I started. You should have let me bleed you dry. Now it’s too late.”

I hauled her ass out of the seat so fast, her head lashed back from the force. I’d had it with her smart mouth, and what I really wanted was to shut her up for good. Let her be the PNT’s problem. They could try to decipher the crazy shit pouring out of her useless mouth. Threatening my loved ones, whether directly or indirectly, had been the last straw. She could rot in hell for all I cared, dead sister or not.

With a less than gentle shove, I handed Delilah over to Adare. He caught her before she tumbled to the ground and set her right on her feet. “You are hereby taken into custody of the Pacific Northwest Territories Council,” Adare instructed. “You are to stand trial for kidnapping, in addition to conspiracy for your malicious acts against the Shaede Nation. You are forbidden to speak or take action against any living thing until the next full moon when the council will hear your case.” He touched his thumb to a spot on her forehead just above her nose, the third eye. A glittering gold spark ignited between their skin, and Delilah fell completely silent. Her eyes glazed over; her limbs hung limp. She’d effectively become a rag doll. Since she offered no resistance, Adare was able to lead Delilah toward the mirrored building.

Raif waved in parting and didn’t waste any time jumping back in the front seat of the Lincoln. Adare stood stoic at the building’s entrance, waiting for the second member of his security team. I watched his partner emerge through the glass doors, his energy hitting me as if a king-sized tuning fork had been driven right into my skull. The vibration nearly sent me to my knees, but I fought the toppling sensation, fixing my gaze on the man whose power barreled toward me like a shock wave.

He was eternally young and vibrant, his dark hair framing his face and making the gray of his eyes all the more startling. A corner of his mouth tugged into a sardonic smile, the kind that invites a challenge. He stared straight at me, ignoring his partner as well as Delilah, who shrank away from his presence, her tiny shoulders hunched and quivering.

I took my seat and quickly shut the door. An involuntary spasm shook my body as I felt the weight of his stare right through the tinted glass window. Power surged from him, as if he knew I could feel it and wanted me to know exactly what kind of heat he was packing. This guy was the Excalibur of otherworldly energy. My vision blurred, and the sound of my blood pulsed in my veins and echoed in my ears. His gaze never left mine, and my chest began to ache, as if he were staring right through my soul. “Who is that?”

“That,” Raif said as our driver pulled away from the building, “is Fallon, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay as far away from him as possible.”

“But who is he?” I had to know. No one had ever unnerved me so, not even Azriel. I didn’t like it.

“I don’t know. But Adare says he’s dangerous,” Raif said. “That’s all you need to know.”

You’d think unloading Delilah on the PNT would’ve put Raif in a better mood. It didn’t.

“Anya!” His voice thundered through Xander’s foyer. “Where the hell are you?”

I’d never seen Anya move so fast. To be honest, I don’t know how she managed, bound up in her clothes the way she was. As she rounded the corner at a dead run, her breath came hard, as if she’d sprinted ten miles to Raif’s beckoning voice. “Sir,” she said, her head bowed.