Against the Dawn (12 page)

He grabbed a similar set of weapons from the wall and met me at the center of the mat. “Lead with your right hand,” he said. “And block with your left.”

I nodded in response and took a defensive stance. Raif came at me in a blur of speed, his movements precise. My blocking arm was too low and in a few short moments, he had his blade to my throat. “Keep your left arm up.” He knocked me under the elbow with a fist. “You left yourself completely undefended. And your weight distribution is off. Stay centered and on the balls of your feet.”

I readjusted and came at him again, jabbing with my right fist. He jumped back and caught me on the backswing, knocking the dagger from my hand. “Don’t lunge, Darian. Smaller steps. Precise.”

At this point, it might have been a good idea to give the daggers back to Xander and call it a day. My sword play was much better but if I got into tight quarters like I had with Mithras’s lackey last night, my sword wasn’t going to do me a damn bit of good. Teeth gritted, determination fueling every step, I came at Raif again, this time putting his instruction to better use.

We went at it for a good fifteen minutes, me failing miserably while Raif pointed out all of my weaknesses in a hard, emotionless tone. My wrists ached and my thighs were on fire from keeping a defensive stance, but I soldiered on, determined to improve by the end of our workout. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the gym door open and I caught sight of Asher’s large body filling up the frame as he leaned on the jamb, arms folded over his chest.

Great. An audience.

I put Asher to the back of my mind and zeroed my focus in on Raif. Distractions in a fight were common and if something as simple as Asher watching us could throw me off my game I was in serious trouble. I cleared my mind of all thought. No worrying about who might be watching, or the train wreck that was my personal life. There was only me and Raif and the weapons in our hands. It didn’t take long for me to find a rhythm and soon I was giving as good as I got. When I made a mistake, Raif stopped to correct me and I listened carefully, absorbing every word of instruction like a sponge.

“Keep your left hand closer to your throat where you’re most vulnerable. Higher!”

Done.

“Don’t widen your stance so much. It will inevitably throw you off balance.”

Noted.

“Darian! You might think that little move looks impressive, but you just exposed your back to me. I know you’re not a fool so don’t behave like one.”

Okey-dokey.

“Choke up on the grip with a firm hold but not too tight.”

My fingers did feel a little numb.

“The dagger in your left hand is less of an assault weapon as it is a defensive one. Use it like a shield, to deflect, while you strike with your right.”

We went at it for another hour, until our arms were almost too tired to lift. My shoulders were tight and my back ached like a motherfucker, but I knew—like every time I trained with Raif—that I’d walk out of here a better, more prepared fighter for my effort. I’d only seen Raif in action once, but I would have paid a fortune to have seen him centuries ago, dressed in full battle regalia as he decimated his enemies. Everything he did was jaw-dropping impressive.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” He tossed a towel my way and I used it to wipe the sweat from my brow and neck.

“I can’t cook,” he said with a shrug.

“That makes two of us.”

“Well, are you going to show them to me or did you expect me to ask?”

Asher pushed his bulk from the door frame and before he could even take a step closer, Raif jerked his chin toward the door and said, “Out.”

Crestfallen, Asher’s face screwed up into a look of utter disappointment as he left the gym. Poor kid. It was like someone cancelled Christmas on him. I’d make it up to him later, though. Right now, I wanted to show Raif my latest gift from his highhanded brother without any onlookers. No telling what those damn things would do when I opened the box.

“He knows how to give a gift, there’s no doubt about that,” I remarked as I retrieved the mahogany box. The daggers vibrated inside as though excited and I wondered if they realized I was about to free them from their prison. Totally sentient. My concerns about them becoming Terminators weren’t unfounded.

“I don’t recognize the box,” Raif said as he inspected it.

He reached out to take it from me and I warned, “Careful. It’s warded.”

“Really.” His brow rose with curiosity and the word hung there, not a question, not even a statement. Just…
really
. And after hearing his earlier argument with Xander, I wondered if this was about to spur a round two between them.

“Asher attempted to break into it.” I grinned. “And after I opened the box, he tried to take one of them in his hand and couldn’t. It was like a jolt of electricity ran up his arm. From the way he made it sound, it wasn’t a pleasant sensation.”

A sigh that weighed about two tons escaped from Raif’s chest.
Oh, boy
. “Show me.”

I almost reconsidered. I mean, what if he made me give them back? They made me nervous, sure, but they were also seriously cool. “They sort of…” Raif was going to think I’d lost my mind. Oh, screw it. “They talk to me.”

Both brows shot up into his hairline. Yep. I called that one. “What do you mean, they talk to you?”

It was a nice touch, him talking slowly and enunciating as though I’d be slow to catch on. I rolled my eyes and released the latches. “They don’t say actual words.” Because, you know
that
would be crazy. “It’s more of a feeling. Like they want out of the box. They want me to use them. I vibrate all over when they’re close to me. And when I touch them, I sort of feel invincible.” He gave me that blank-faced stare that drove me up the wall. “I’m serious, Raif. They’re chocked full of power.” I lifted the lid to reveal the daggers to him. “Try to pick one up.”

His expression changed from blank to full-on enraged in about a second flat. He took off in a blur of motion, the gym doors slamming against the wall and echoing like thunder with his passage.

I slammed the lid down on the box, and followed after him, one-hundred percent certain he was on his way to tear his brother a new one. By the time I caught up with him, Raif was standing in the middle of Xander’s study railing at his brother, “Have you lost your
mind
? How many more of your birthrights do you plan to give away?”

Xander looked up from whatever it was he was working on, not even shaken by Raif’s booming voice. He pursed his lips and his gaze ventured past his brother and landed on me.

“I told you to bring the daggers to me, Darian.” His tone hovered somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “Now there’ll be no living with him.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I just stood there in the doorway with the damned box cradled in my arms.

“Bring them to me,” he said.

I walked into his study, giving Raif a wide berth and set the box down on his desk. The air practically sizzled with Raif’s indignation and I was actually a little glad he wasn’t armed. No telling what acts of violence he’d be tempted to commit.

“You might as well both have a seat,” Xander said, eyeing Raif. The next words must have been meant for him alone when he added, “And if you say a single word, you are banished from my presence. Forever.”

Chapter Ten

By the looks of Raif’s ever reddening face, it was taking every ounce of self-control in his arsenal not to speak. Or shout. Or lash out irrationally. Which set off all sorts of alarms because Raif was usually the most level person I knew. And by ordering Raif to silence, Xander pretty much guaranteed that what I was about to hear was what he wanted me to hear. No more. No less.

I wanted to tell him that secrets didn’t make friends but I didn’t think he’d appreciate it.

“The daggers are relics.” Xander rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and pressed his fingers together in a steeple in front of him. “When you take the daggers into your hands, Darian, they will become yours. No other will be able to wield them as long as you live.”

Sounded like quite the commitment. “What if I don’t want them?”

“Too late,” Xander replied. “You’ve already touched them.”

“And why would you think that?”

He tilted his head to the side, one brow cocked. He didn’t have to speak for me to know what he was thinking.
I’m the king. I know
everything.

“Don’t you think I deserved to know what sort of weapons they were first?” His highhandedness wasn’t charming. At. All. “I mean, there’s some serious magic at work here. Ancient, powerful magic. I need full disclosure, Xander before I even consider taking them out of the box ever again.”

He leaned forward in his chair and reached out to me. “May I?”

As I handed over the box, Raif let out a derisive snort. “Have at it,” I replied.

He took one of the daggers into his hand without so much as a flinch. What in the hell…? “In the old tongue, they are called
stailc tintreach ar
. Which roughly translates to, lightning’s strike. They have been passed down through my family since before recorded history. A gift from a great queen and a powerful Sidhe priestess. The daggers allow he who wields them to be virtually unstoppable in battle. Likewise, any opponent you might face will feel as though the odds are stacked against him.”

“Or she who wields them?” I quirked a brow.

Xander smiled. “Or she.”

“How can you touch them but no one else?”

Raif looked about to burst and it seemed to give Xander a ridiculous amount of satisfaction that he obeyed the order to hold his tongue. “Because they’re mine of course.”

Of course. “If they belong to you, then how can I touch them?”

He gave me an enigmatic smile. “They are my gift to you. The daggers recognize you as worthy and you are now their master. But beware, Darian. The daggers are tools for you to use, but they demand to be sated through battle. Leave them idle in their box, and their power will create a store that you might not be able to manage. Use them, and you will easily master their gifts. The daggers hunger for a fight. It’s your job to feed them.”

I stared at Xander, jaw slack. He’d given me a gift that not only could I not give back, but one that demanded I put it to good use. If he thought the daggers would get us a step closer to resolving things between us, he was dead wrong. Because right now, the only issue I wanted to resolve was whether I wanted to punch him in the gut or the face.

“Well, as much as I’d like to stick around to continue this awkward conversation, I have somewhere else to be.” I was so angry with him I could barely see straight. This took the overbearing, highhanded cake. He’d saddled me with something I wasn’t even sure I wanted. Thanks a lot, your highness.

I grabbed the box from Xander’s desk and headed for the door. He had the good sense not to say another word and I headed for the foyer, my own brain buzzing with innumerable thoughts.

“Darian, wait.” Raif caught up to me at the door and stepped in close, probably to keep our conversation as private as possible. “Take care with the daggers. Xander thinks to protect you with his gift, but you know better than anyone that overconfidence—even the feeling of invincibility the daggers would give you—is a detriment in battle.”

Raif always told me it was fear that kept you alive in a fight. If the daggers nullified that fear and instead made me feel invincible, my chances of making a mistake were that much higher. “I know. Don’t think I’m not a little worried about it, either.”

By giving me a gift that I had no choice but to use, Xander had added another complicated layer to situations that already had me on my toes. On the plus side, if I was overconfident, any opponent I faced would be just as pessimistic, feeling as though they’d lost before the fight even began. A balance, sort of. Though one I doubted I’d enjoy.

“Where are you off to?” Raif and I really hadn’t had much time to catch up since I’d been home and I supposed it was time to get him up to speed, though it was going to have to be quick.

“Lorik found me,” I said. “The night I got back. He’s been waxing nostalgic and pestering me to work for him.”

“But, how?” Raif was as dumbfounded over Lorik’s reappearance as I was. “Shouldn’t he be—”

“Both feet in the grave,” I remarked. “But he claims some sorceress gave him eternal youth as payment for some really great sex. Or something like that.” Raif raised a dubious brow. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly.”

“So this is the job you mentioned earlier?” Raif asked. “This has nothing to do with Tyler?”

“It’s complicated.” Was there anything in my life that wasn’t? “Lorik is working for a supernatural that happens to be in the arms trade.”

“Mithras?”

“The one and only. Anyway, Mithras’s dirty dealings sort of wound up at Tyler’s door and he contracted me to solve the problem. I figured I could keep an eye on Lorik, find out what he’s really up to and take care of Ty’s problem at the same time. I’m multitasking.”

Raif looked almost relieved. “I have to admit, I feel better knowing that Tyler is involved. He can keep an eye on you.”

Well, that was his job, after all. “It makes me feel better, too.”

“Do you need my help?” Raif put his hand on my shoulder and he leveled his gaze on mine. “I am at your disposal.”

Raif’s sentiment made my chest swell with emotion, but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of shame. Tyler was bound to protect me, Xander had Asher following me around like a puppy, and he’d given me a set of magic daggers that were supposed to give me the upper hand in battle. And now, Raif was throwing his hat into the ring, offering to help me out if I needed him. Was I that much of a mess that no one thought I could take care of myself anymore? “Thanks, but I think your plate is full enough.” I jerked my head toward Xander’s study. “What’s going on, Raif?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said. “As far as plates go, you don’t need anything else on yours, either. Be careful tonight, Darian, and call me if you need me.”