Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

The woman’s lids fluttered before opening to reveal beautiful blue eyes. Memorable in both color and the intensity of her stare, I sensed something in this woman that called to me.

“Raif,” I whispered, wondering why that name would come to mind.

A hand gripped my own, squeezing hard for how frail she looked. “I trust you,” she murmured. “And I’m sorry I stabbed you.”

Holy shit, she had stabbed me! Brakae. Fuck . Brakae was bleeding all over the pristine white of the snow, used like a slab of meat while Faolán doled out his cruel punishment on her flesh. I tore my eyes from her scored skin, brought my gaze to his, and fought like hell to keep my mind closed to his intrusion. “You sonofabitch!” I seethed. “I’m going to kill you for this.”

“Not if she kills you first,” he said, jutting his chin toward the outer ring of stones.

Resist . Moira’s thoughts pushed into my mind as she approached, weapon drawn and ready. He’ll pityou against me. And you know what I’ll have to do. I can’t allow him to mend the glass .

She sure as hell wasn’t wrong. Already I felt the impulse, the idea being planted in my head: Attack. I didn’t have a weapon, but that didn’t seem to matter as I left Brakae’s side and headed straight for the outer ring of stones. Darian! I ignored Moira, my pace quickening at Faolán’s urging. Stop this! My arms pumped as I ran, my boots kicking up snow behind me. This is insane! How can you forget your purpose? My breath clouded as I labored, my lungs ached from the cold. I will kill you! She would, I had no doubt. Faolán would keep us both occupied with fighting, and Moira would kill me, doing his dirty work for him. Fight him!

The toes of my boots dug into the snow and turf, and I launched myself at Moira as I closed the last few yards between us. Time slowed as I cut through the winter air, and by sheer will I forced my mental barriers into place.

I hit Moira with a jarring impact that sent us both skidding through the snow. “Make this believable,” I said close to her ear.

Holy hell, what had I gotten myself into? The first crack of Moira’s fist to my jaw had me reeling; by the third, I was spitting blood. I had the feeling she was enjoying herself a little too much. I’d wanted it to be believable, though, so I had to grit my teeth and bear it while she attempted to beat me to a pulp. On the plus side, Faolán wanted me to initiate the attack, and it wouldn’t have seemed realistic for the scales to be tipped in Moira’s favor. So I gave her a decent beating as well, kicking and throwing punches as if I had nothing to lose. And at this point, I didn’t.

As Moira and I rolled around on the ground, pounding each other for the sake of entertainment, I noticed Faolán from the corner of my eye. He’d lost interest in our tussle and left Brakae lying in the snow. From my backpack, he produced the broken halves of the hourglass and brought his treasures to the centermost part of the ring of stones, the heart of O Anel . I shifted, rolled, and kicked, maneuvering our fight closer to the real action, and Faolán paid us no mind. He set Reaver’s half of the glass on a stone pedestal, the golden sands swirling like the snow falling from the sky. Moira had eased up on me, her blows more acted than real by this point. Let’s face it-neither of us would have been worth a damn beaten to shit.

The atmosphere seemed to quiver, a ripple in the fabric of time. And as my attention was drawn away from my pseudo-fight to Faolán’s actions, a glint of silver caught my eye, and I froze. Sitting at the top knuckle of his forefinger was a ring, old and worn. My ring. The ring Tyler had given to me. God damn him. I was going to tear his head right off his fucking shoulders. I dodged Moira’s already misguided punch and started off toward Faolán when she grabbed my arm. Not yet!

Bullshit. I pulled free from her grasp and lurched forward, but she jumped in front of me. Wait! We need him to be distracted! Blind rage guided my fist, and no one influenced my actions now. I swung hard-frustration, anger, and lust for revenge fueling the impact as I made contact with Moira’s face. She spun full circle and fell to the ground, snow flying up around her like feathers as she landed.

Faolán’s gaze met mine, the silver of his eyes dead and devoid of emotion. His eyebrow cocked, and he plucked the ring from his finger, holding it up for my inspection. He brought it to his lips, blowing gently, and the silver glowed bright as a star. “No!” I shook my head as I left Moira’s unconscious body on the ground and took off at a dead run. No fucking way was he going to use my ring , the only thing I had of Ty, to destroy the world.

That ring was my lifeline to Tyler, to my own heart. My pulse pounded in my ears as I charged Faolán, anxiety burning through my bloodstream like liquid fire. I didn’t have a weapon, but I’d rip his head off with my bare hands if I had to. The ring, carved with Tyler’s bear, was the embodiment of his love and undying protection.

His name was a war cry as I advanced, building momentum with every push of my legs. The bastard was going down, once and for all. But when I took the final step and bent down low to throw my body into his, his power hit me like a wrecking ball, and I stopped still in my tracks, my head whipping back from the jarring halt.

Stop.

The command was too strong to resist.

Be still .

Like a fucking statue.

Quiet .

Not a peep.

“Love is such a powerful thing,” Faolán mused as he twisted my ring between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve seen what your Jinn would do for you and what you, in turn, would do to protect him.”

Thoughts swirled in my head, a torrent of vile curses I reserved for only the lowest of bastards. But thanks to Faolán’s control, my mouth wouldn’t open so I could let the word vomit out.

“In the blood, you will find the most ancient of magic.” His voice dropped, becoming soft, almost tender. “But in love you will find power in its truest form. And you, my dear Darian, you have harnessed that power.”

Oh. My. God.

Faolán slipped the ring on top of the broken neck of the hourglass. As it made contact, the band of silver glowed white-hot. The snow, swirling into blizzard proportions, stopped in the air, just as still as I was, as if waiting for the command to move again. Even the wind seemed to bow at Faolán’s feet, along with the naked tree branches and blades of grass poking up through the snow-covered ground.

All of O Anel held its breath, and I was really starting to regret knocking Moira unconscious. Frankly, I could have used her help right about now. My mind was sharp as a razor’s edge; obviously Faolán wanted me completely lucid for this particular trick. I imagined the horror of billions of humans disintegrating into dust, a madman’s revenge exacted on innocent souls. This was exactly why I only took jobs that involved ridding the world of the dirtiest scum. Faolán wasn’t interested in being anything but a blight on the world. It didn’t matter whom he killed or whose heart he broke in the process. All he cared about was his burning need for revenge.

My muscles rebelled against my brain’s own commands as I fought to move. Snowflakes remained suspended in midair, and the still silence became almost palpable. Two worlds teetered on the brink of collision, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening on the other side, in the mortal realm.

But in the midst of impending chaos, of death, retribution, and sorrow, I did the one thing that seemed utterly impossible.