Amanda Bonilla: Blood Before Sunrise

The sonofabitch was fast, bringing the dagger up and stabbing down before I had a chance to stand. The blade nicked my thigh, and I rolled away before he could put his weight behind the action and stab through to the muscle. My legs scissored, and I caught him in the groin. He fell to his knees, his face a snarling mask of rage.

“When I’m through with you, I’m going to describe your death to your lover in detail.” Really? I’d thought we were through bullshitting. “I don’t think just your head will do. I’m going to cut you into tiny pieces and present each little bit to him on a silver platter.”

I didn’t dignify him with a response. It was what he wanted after all. And what I wanted was to keep him nice and occupied-away from the hourglass and away from Brakae. With a quick roll, I was off my back and leapt to my feet. First thing I was going to do was break his jaw so he’d shut the fuck up.

Faolán parried the blow, striking with the dagger. The blade swept down my forearm, my heavy sleeve tearing open, no longer there to add extra protection. Shit. I was going to be plated up like sushi if this kept up. I jumped back, the dagger missing my jugular by inches. I blew out a heavy breath of relief that clouded the air, mingling with the suspended flakes of snow.

Faolán had been bred for battle, a true beast of war and a goddess’s strong arm. He was a warrior right to the marrow of his bones. He fought like one too. Ruthless, with a savage instinct. Raif hadn’t been able to keep the advantage in a fight with him, and I was suffering. Blood oozed from my many wounds, and my head swam as my vision darkened at the periphery. I fought to hold on to consciousness. My arms and legs felt like lead weights dangling from my body and, damn it, I was tired .

Blow after blow, kicks and stabs, slicing into my skin over and again, Faolán made it apparent he had no intention of losing. I stumbled, then wiped the blood from my forehead to keep it from running into my eyes. He was playing with me now, like a cat with an injured mouse. Tyler, I thought, kicking out with my leg and hitting nothing but air, I wish you were here. I need you .

I caught Faolán’s foot as it rocketed toward my head, but I didn’t have much strength left, and as I tried to twist it and break his knee, he pushed against me and threw me off balance. As I landed on my back, the breath left my lungs in a jarring whoosh, and I couldn’t draw new air to replace what I’d lost. Chest aching and eyes bulging, I was desperate for a deep breath. Faolán capitalized on my distress and brought his heel down on the center of my stomach. “Bastard!” I wheezed.

I hated this place-hated it with every fiber of my being. I was weakened, nearly impotent in this fucking Faerie Realm. I wanted to go home. I wanted to throw my hands up and just-

“Surrender.” Faolán finished my thought, kneeling so he could stare into my bashed and bloodied face. “You can’t stop what’s going to happen. So don’t try. I’ll kill you quick. I owe you that much for the part you’ve played. Just lie there and be still, and I’ll put an end to your suffering.”

My mind must’ve been addled, because I thought about closing my eyes, nice and compliant, as I waited for Faolán to deliver the sweet, blissful oblivion he promised. But, as always, Fate had other plans for me. I wasn’t thinking when I let my eyes wander to the spot where Brakae had been lying unconscious-the spot that was now unoccupied.

Faolán spun on the balls of his feet, rising to his full height. Brakae stood before him, the long dagger I’d discarded held aloft in her shaking hand. Bruises marred her beautiful face, blood dried and crusted on her robes. So much for true love.

I rolled onto my hands and knees and dragged in ragged gulps of breath. My lungs burned, and I wanted to throw up. But I didn’t have time. Get your shit together . I sniffed, pulling dripping blood back up into my nose and choked as the coppery taste blazed a trail down my throat. Come on, Darian, get with the fucking program .

“What are you going to do, my love?” Faolán’s voice was tender, concerned, as if the SOB hadn’t beaten and sliced her up earlier. “Would you kill me?”

“Y-yes.” Brakae’s voice quavered, her eyes brimming over with tears that spilled down her cheeks. “If you don’t stop, I will have no choice but to kill you.”

I pushed myself back up to my knees and took a moment to stabilize before standing. Brakae had Faolán’s undivided attention, her sapphire blue eyes glistening with a steady stream of tears. Her jaw trembled as she fought to keep it raised in a defiant set. But she was struggling; I could see the almost-imperceptible breakdown of her resolve. She’d loved him. Hell, she might’ve loved him still. I knew better than anyone what that felt like. I’d taken Azriel’s life, and despite everything he’d done to me, I’d held him close to my heart.

Faolán inched closer to Brakae. Her eyes darted from side to side, frantic like a trapped animal, and she flinched as he brought his hand up toward her face. “Don’t touch me.” She raised the dagger as a warning.

“If you feel nothing for me”-Faolán edged closer to Brakae and I tensed-“then do what you must.” He made a show of bearing his chest to her and lifted the tip of her blade with his fingertip, positioning it over his heart. “Your new Guardian couldn’t protect you. It was her fault you were hurt. I never wanted harm to come to you. If you don’t believe me, take my life.”

The heavy dagger vibrated under Brakae’s trembling hand. She couldn’t kill him. Not the man she’d loved. She was Raif’s daughter, a warrior’s blood coursed through her veins, but she was no killer. If she had been, she wouldn’t have needed a Guardian to help protect the natural order.

Slowly, her fingers uncurled from around the dagger. Faolán had his back to me, but I didn’t have to see his face to know the triumph written there. He’d kill her, I had no doubt. He’d come too far, and his insanity had taken him to a place he couldn’t return from.

I no longer wobbled on my feet. My lungs rose and fell as I drew deep, steady breaths. I watched as the dagger slipped from Brakae’s hand, falling soundlessly in this place frozen in time. Faolán reached out, his hands curled into claws, and a snarl tore from his throat. I pushed at the ground, the heavy tread of my boots slipping and then catching hold of the snow.

“I’m sorry,” Faolán said as he reached for Brakae. “I will always love you.”

I jumped, arms outstretched, and shoved her out of the way before Faolán could seize her. It wasn’t a graceful maneuver by any standards as Brakae went flying, but it got the job done. I rolled in a swift, fluid motion and scooped the dagger into my grasp.

With a quick, upward stab, I aimed for the spot Faolán had laid bare for Brakae. The dagger sliced through skin, muscle, and bone as though his body were nothing more than a sheet of silk fabric. Veins of green glowed against the obsidian blade as Faolán pitched forward, knocking me backward. As he fell, the long dagger drove farther still, burying itself to the hilt.

I shimmied my legs up between us and used the leverage to roll him off me. Blood, red and bright, stained the pristine snow and covered my hands with a slick warmth that nauseated me. I’d never had such an attack of conscience before-unless you considered Azriel’s death. The tragedy of it all hit too close to home for me to feel anything but regret. Only love could drive a person so completely into the arms of madness.

“You are a Guardian worthy of the Order,” Faolán rasped. “My Enphigmalé brothers would be proud to have you amongst their ranks.”