Against the Dawn (19 page)

“Kieran is at the gaming table.” My escort pointed out the male sitting relaxed at a large triangular table covered in midnight black felt. The surface was covered in bright runes that appeared to glow against the dark backdrop of the table and the players used a set of multi-sided dice with more of the same unidentifiable symbols etched into each side. Maybe it was the equivalent of supernatural craps. Hell if I knew, anyway.

As though he could sense we’d been talking about him, Kieran looked up from his game and a corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. I didn’t recognize his energy signature, but that didn’t mean much. I’d never seen a werewolf in the flesh until the other night, no doubt there were countless other supernaturals I’d yet to encounter. This one looked like trouble, though. I’d learned over the course of my existence that you can tell anything about a person from the look in their eyes. Maybe there was something to that whole “windows to the soul” shit. Kieran’s gaze was keen, calculating, and predatory. No doubt he’d been in his fair share of sticky situations and from the looks of him, he always came out on top. I wondered how Lorik ever got mixed up with these guys. I mean, he was in way over his head with the likes of Kieran. No wonder he’d sent me to collect on a debt. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against this guy, and suddenly, I wasn’t super confident of my own chances at this point.

The daggers vibrated at my sides, a sort of
rah! rah! rah!
cheer to get me revved up for the job. It was sweet, really. I gave myself a mental shake as I approached the table. I needed to quit thinking of the daggers as pets and more like weapons. Because that was seriously effed up.

My first indication that this shake down wasn’t going to go my way was the way that Kieran kept his gaze locked on mine and sat relaxed in his chair. I wasn’t even a blip on his radar. As I walked toward him, he continued to lounge, that same amused smirk curving his lips. I would have expected him to at least straighten in his chair; it was a natural reaction to being approached by a stranger. But not him. I held in the sigh that threatened to escape my chest.

“Tell me, what brings Darian—Shaede, assassin, and favored pet of Alexander Peck to my door this night?”

Well, hell
. I clamped my jaw down tight lest it drop to the fucking floor. I found it seriously disconcerting when someone I didn’t know knew me. At least to the point that they felt they could refer to me as someone’s
pet
. Which, for the record, I did not appreciate. “I’m no one’s pet, but I can definitely show you how I earned my title as assassin.” I rested my hands on the daggers, enjoying the boost of confidence they gave me.
Danger? Ha! I laugh in the face of danger
.

Kieran’s smirk grew into a full-fledged smile and he slung one arm over the edge of his chair as he regarded me. The closer I came to him, the more convinced I was that he had Sidhe ancestors in his lineage. His energy reminded me of Moira and Reaver. And of Asher who was half Sidhe. I wanted to kick myself for not getting a little more background on him before coming over here tonight. I was usually better prepared, but for some reason, I let Lorik boss me around like he was truly in charge and I was nothing but a clueless grunt.
Ugh
.

“Pet or not, I find it interesting that someone with such…
regal
affiliations would choose to do business with as foolish and blundering a human as Lorik. Perhaps you’re slumming?”

Lorik wanted to be the big fish in a small pond, but I had to agree with Kieran that he was definitely barking up the wrong tree by dipping his toes in supernatural waters. His smile grew and I erected a mental barrier to shield my thoughts. Some Sidhe could read minds, it wouldn’t surprise me if Kieran could, too. “He says you owe him a debt and I’m here to collect it.” No use getting into whether or not Lorik was a blundering idiot. So far, he pretty much was. “Let’s make this easy. Pay the debt, and I’ll be on my way. You can resume your game and enjoy the rest of your night.”

“Why would I do that? Having you here is bound to be much more interesting than anything happening at this moment.” I didn’t think the other guys at the table shared Kieran’s sentiment because they all looked pretty damned antsy to get back to what they were doing. “But, since I’m a fan of games of chance, how about we make a wager? I win, you owe me one day of employment, no strings attached. If you win, I’ll give you something to take back to Lorik. Deal?”

Did I look stupid? “Nah. I’m not much of a gambler. Here’s the deal: you owe Lorik a debt. I’m here to collect it. You give me what I came here for and I won’t poke you with the pointy end of my sword. That’s the only deal you’re going to get from me tonight.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, assassin.” Anticipation lit his violet-blue eyes and he sat up a little straighter in his chair. “My house. My rules.”

Chapter Sixteen

A thousand curses against Lorik ran through my head as I regarded Kieran with what I hoped was a bored expression. He ran around the city, willy-nilly making all sorts of messes that were left for me to clean up. I wanted to tell the Fae to keep his damned money. I’d settle up with Lorik myself if I had to. As I opened my mouth to say just that, Kieran chuckled and tapped his fingers on the felt surface of the table.

“Too late to talk your way out of this, I’m afraid. Besides, I’m bored. “Raheem!” Kieran bellowed. “Fetch Kaii.”

I swear, if the daggers at my sides could have jumped out of their sheaths and done cartwheels on the marble floor, they would have. Bloodthirsty little bastards.

From a room to Kieran’s right, a figure swathed from head to toe in white emerged through the doorway, face covered with a balaclava. All I could see of this mysterious Kaii were a pair of eerie citrine eyes that sparkled like canary diamonds against the backdrop of dark lashes.

Kaii approached Kieran’s table and a wave of dark energy crashed over me, one that stirred every self-destructive emotion I’d ever managed to lock away. Odds were, Kaii wasn’t very fun at parties. As I tried to suppress the urge to cry, or cut myself, or both, I contemplated the mysterious individual that bent close to Kieran’s ear. Was this Kaii female or male? It was impossible to tell, and since the power signatures that I felt in preternatural creatures didn’t specify gender, I had to assume that the head to toe coverings served a purpose in keeping Kaii’s identity—as well as gender—a secret.

“Darian, meet Kaii,” Kieran remarked. “Kaii is a Reaper. Handy to have on the payroll if you know what I mean.”

Um,
no
, I didn’t. What in the hell was a Reaper? Kaii’s energy was dark and depressing, and damned spooky, like a cemetery at night. A tremor ran the length of my body and I wrapped my palms around the grips of the daggers to help banish the sensation of fear that I felt in the Reaper’s presence.

“And Kaii, Darian is a Shaede.” Kieran paused. “Sort of. She’s also the consort of the Shaede King and an assassin for hire. Isn’t that interesting?”

Again it unnerved me how much Kieran knew about me. Though, I’d never been Xander’s consort. How did these rumors get started? Kaii’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch before narrowing dangerously. Maybe the Reaper wasn’t a fan of Xander. God knew he had a tendency to rub people the wrong way. Either way, I wasn’t about to deny anything at this point. I needed whatever upper hand I could get. “Look, this is fun and all, but I’m not really in the mood for games. My patience is running sort of thin. Pay what you owe so I can get the hell out of here. Okay?”

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy having you on the payroll. Even if it is for only one job.”

It always made my day to be disregarded. And no matter what Kieran had up his sleeve, I was going to be sure to come out on top. Because there was no way in hell I was doing a damned thing for him now or ever. “Yeah, well, don’t count on it. I don’t usually lose.”

“Since you’re the guest, Darian, I’ll let you choose the weapons. It shouldn’t matter; Kaii is proficient with just about everything.”

He expected us to fight? Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I pulled one dagger from the sheath and it sang as the blade scraped against the leather scabbard. My corporeal form dissolved in a cloud of dark shadow and I regained my body right behind Kieran’s chair, the dagger held to his throat. “My house. My rules.”

The abalone chip burned in my pocket, searing my skin through the fabric. I pulled away with a hiss, stuffing my hand in my pants to pull out the chip before the damned thing burned a hole clean though my leg.

“Lorik really should have explained the rules to you, Darian,” Kieran remarked as he reassumed his relaxed position in his chair. “The chip allows you entrance, but in accepting it into your possession you made an unspoken agreement to follow the house rules. My rules. You fail to do that—” he exchanged a knowing, yet intimidating glance with the other players at the table “—let’s just say the chip exacts a less than pleasant punishment on the holder.”

I was
so
going to connect my fist with Lorik’s jaw when I saw him tonight. No way was I willing to find out what sorts of
less than pleasant
punishments the chip would dole out. “Seems a little barbaric, doesn’t it? A fight to the death over something as trivial as a debt.”

Kieran shrugged his shoulders. “Not to the death. I’m not a complete barbarian. But I am bored and I have to admit, I’m curious if the rumors about you are true.”

Again with the rumors. What was this, supernatural high school? “If not to the death, then how will you determine a winner?” Seriously? I needed to shut up before he changed his mind. Note to self: do
not
help the sociopathic asshole put you in the ground.

Kieran shrugged. “A test of skill, that’s all. I’m sure you can restrain yourself from the delivery of a killing blow.” He gave Kaii a pointed look. “Both of you.”

That look didn’t instill me with a lick of confidence that Kaii knew a hell of a lot about exercising self-control. But since I didn’t have much say in the matter, I supposed voicing my concerns wouldn’t do me much good.

“Weapons?” Kieran asked.

My lips curled into a sweet smile. “Daggers.”

Kaii’s eyes narrowed, only accentuating the Reaper’s feral appearance. Head cocked curiously, I had a feeling that if Kaii could sense the magic in my daggers, I was about to be called out for cheating. But much to my surprise, I was answered with silence. Thankfully, Kaii wasn’t much of a conversationalist.

As though duels like this occurred on a daily basis, a random henchman appeared moments later carrying four daggers laid out on a gleaming silver tray. Since I was the guest, the weapons were offered to me for first choice. I waived the guy away and said, “Brought my own. No worries.”

He shrugged his indifference and approached Kaii, holding the tray aloft for the Reaper. With much the same disinterest, a pair of gold daggers with onyx black handles was chosen and Kaii gave them a few practice swings, testing the weight of the weapons in a series of flashy tosses and twirls that boggled the mind.

Welp, so much for having the upper hand.

With a shallow nod, Kaii accepted the weapons and in an instant, the Reaper took a defensive stance, left leg bent and the right stretched out in front. I stood, mesmerized at the grace of Kaii’s stance, the fluidity of movement reminding me of a sleek cat stalking through tall grass. I suddenly felt clunky and awkward in my combat boots and I shrugged off the length of my duster and katana to give me a better range of motion. There was no point in trying to intimidate with my long coat and big boots, Kaii managed to show me up with nothing more than a few artfully placed footsteps. So much for my badass attire.

I drew the second dagger from its sheath and a thrill of raw magic traveled the length of my arm. Invincibility: plus ten. Holding both daggers was an instant power-up that I tasted on the back of my tongue—a metallic tang of awesomeness that trickled down my throat and into my belly, spreading outward into my extremities as though some mystical force was juicing up my internal batteries.

It probably wasn’t the best time for an earworm, but as Kaii sidestepped me in a predatory circle, all I could think about was the Blue Oyster Cult’s
Don’t Fear the Reaper
. I swallowed down the laughter that threatened—I couldn’t help myself, the daggers made me feel almost tipsy—as I entered into the circular battle dance Kaii had initiated.

Around us, a crowd began to gather, the sick anticipation of the spectators thickening the air. Raif’s instruction banished the song playing in my head, and I relaxed my fists, letting the daggers rest naturally in my grip. A weapon was merely an extension of the warrior and I needed Raif’s guidance to remain sharp. “I’m curious, how do you breathe all wrapped up like that?” Maybe I could distract Kaii with my smart mouth while I allowed myself to adjust to the strange sensation of magic as it traveled the invisible conduits of my body.

My opponent was unflappable. Those canary yellow eyes zeroed in on my face, an unrelenting stare that I found more than a little unnerving. The daggers infused me with another burst of confidence and I abandoned all hope of luring Kaii into distraction as I prepared to win this damned fight so I could get the hell out of here. “Are you scarred under all of that?” I waived the daggers around to indicate the Reaper’s face. “Or maybe you have an extra nose or something weird that you don’t want anyone to see?”

Kaii continued to circle me, completely unfazed. Damn it. “I know,” I said, as I moved in tandem. “You have a secret identity. You’re like Bruce Wayne. Gotham royalty by day, dark knight by…well, night.” Kaii’s step waivered and a surge of triumph chased through my veins. “I’m right, aren’t I? What are you protecting under that mask?”

Kaii came at me in a graceful rush, the wide sweep of the Reaper’s arms almost as distracting as the gold glinting from the daggers heading straight for my face. Guess I’d touched a nerve. I became one with the shadows, releasing my corporeal form the moment Kaii launched at me in one of those Matrix-type moves that defied the laws of gravity. I regained my corporeal form at Kaii’s back, but my opponent had me beat in the intuition and reflex department. The Reaper spun, a whirlwind of limbs and flashing gold, both daggers poised, blades crossed, at my throat and stopping short of slicing my head right off.