Blood Before Sunrise (5 page)

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Authors: Amanda Bonilla

BOOK: Blood Before Sunrise
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I left my chair and rounded the table to stand behind him, my hands kneading the tense muscles above his shoulder blades. “Ty, if I wanted to find someone, could I just wish for it?”

Tyler craned his neck around so he could look me in the eye, and he sat up a little straighter. “That depends on who you’re looking for and why.”

“Well,” I said, peering at him through lowered lashes, “let’s just say I want to find someone who isn’t human. Could you deliver her to me if I wished for it?”

I pulled a chair right next to his and sat, rubbing the tip of my nose along his cheek, rough with stubble. I inhaled and held the scent of him in my lungs. His warm, spicy aroma had a homey quality and reminded me of comfort and trust.

“First of all,” he said, his voice thick and husky, “if you don’t stop that, I’m going to have you—right here on the kitchen table. Secondly, what are you up to?”

I smiled and took his earlobe between my teeth before gently pulling away. He groaned, and the sound sent a pulse of excitement zinging through my veins.

I knew the rules for making wishes, more or less. Tyler had spelled them out for me when I’d first become aware that he’d bound himself to me. Wishes, just like everything in the natural world, were regulated and restricted—balanced. So wishing for a million dollars or world peace was out of the question. I could wish only for something I needed. Just wanting something wasn’t good enough to justify wish granting. I couldn’t wish the dead back to
life, or the living to be dead. I couldn’t wish to change the natural order of things, so that secret desire of being able to shoot laser beams from my eyes was a definite no-go. And I could never wish to break the bonds of others, no matter what they might be. As far as our own bond was concerned, though Tyler had made the bond, only I could break it. He could choose to bind himself to another only three times in his life, and I had no idea if I was number one or three.

What I was about to wish for definitely fell under the “want” category. But someone I cared about needed it. So I thought maybe by virtue of the loophole, I’d get my wish. “It’s just a simple question of finding someone,” I said, building the framework for my request. “Can you do it if I ask?”

A curling strand of my strawberry blond hair drifted into my line of sight, and I huffed it away before fixing my gaze on Tyler’s face. I tried not to stare directly into his eyes. They’re gorgeous, and I sometimes lose myself entirely in the hazel orbs. What can I say; I’m a sucker for pretty eyes.

“Could you find a Shaede if I wished for it?”

“Maybe,” he answered slowly. “There might be extenuating circumstances that would prevent me from granting that wish.”

I leaned back in my chair and deposited my legs onto his lap. “Such as?”

He smiled, a good sign, and began to massage one of my calves. “Well, this particular Shaede might not want to be found. Or there could be magic stronger than mine protecting him or her. Also, is this something you need? Or just a passing whim?”

I raised a dubious brow.

“Who are you looking for, Darian?”

I sighed as I felt a tightening in my center that branched outward toward my limbs—the barest perception of the heavens shifting. The noon sun had reached its zenith, dipping lower into the sky. I pushed the sensation to the back of my mind and tried to focus on the matter at hand. How I hated unceasing time.

“I want to find Raif’s daughter.”

Tyler paused in midmassage, the dark shadow returning to his eyes for a fleeting moment before he shook it off. “Raif has already tried to find her, Darian. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Besides, didn’t he tell you she died?”

“Yes,” I murmured as he moved to my other calf, artfully rolling it in his palm. “But I think she’s still alive. Delilah said something. Well, she said a lot of somethings actually, mostly incoherent ramblings, but I know she had her shit together when she told me Raif’s daughter is alive.”

“Did she tell you how she knew?”

I bit my bottom lip. “No. Raif thinks she’s lost her mind.”

“He tried to find her,” Tyler insisted. “He couldn’t.”

“But he didn’t have a genie.”

“Do it,” he said abruptly. His tone became serious, almost a dare. “Make the wish.”

I stared into his eyes, momentarily absorbed by the brownish star that surrounded Ty’s pupil. Something shimmered there, looking like an oil slick on water. My breath hitched. A wish was what I wanted, after all. He’d offered. Thrown it right in my face, actually. I tried to avoid making wishes; it felt too much like exercising control. But it wouldn’t be an order, just a simple desire spoken aloud.

Swallowing down the bitterness that coated my mouth, I found it hard to speak the words. The last time I made a wish, I’d been a sacrificial lamb, my blood dripping into nine bowls to awaken nine dormant gargoyles. I’d needed Ty’s help, and so I’d wished again and again for it. I needed his help now. “Tyler, I wish Raif’s daughter were standing here right now.”

Ty closed his eyes, thank God, and I could finally look away. A shudder passed along his body, and he inhaled sharply, every muscle in his body going rigid. I held my breath in anticipation as much as worry. I’d never seen the physical effect of the wish. Did it hurt him somehow?

Still silence consumed the apartment, but within me, time marched its steady cadence. Though the suspense was killing me, I waited while Tyler did his thing—whatever that was. His eyes flew wide open, and I felt the stirring of air as an invisible force ghosted past me. Startled, I pushed the foot resting in his lap against him, and my chair teetered on its back legs before coming down again on all fours. He exhaled an unsteady breath, his eyes watering.

“Nothing,” he said. “If she’s alive, she’s protected far beyond my scope of power. I’m sorry.”

He looked a bit shaky, and I cursed my selfishness. Had this happened every time I’d made a wish? Even the times before I’d known he was forced to obey my simple commands? “I’m sorry,” I said, the shame welling up like bile. “I won’t do that again.”

Ty reached over and squeezed my hand. The reassuring gesture did little for my blossoming guilt complex. “It’s part of the bond, love. No apologies. It’s about damned time you started making wishes anyway.”

Wrestling my hand free, I stood, the chair screeching against the floor as I pushed it back. Things had been a lot goddamned simpler when I was alone. For starters, I didn’t have to worry about hurting the man I loved. “Delilah’s got something up her sleeve,” I said, crossing to the kitchen. “I don’t know what, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, I want you to be more careful. Maybe you should keep a low profile until I’m sure it’s safe.”

A low snort of disgust answered me. Typical. Ever the knight in shining armor, Ty would never go down without a fight. “Keep a low profile,” he replied in a caustic tone. “Yeah, right.”

It was worth a try anyway. But I had ways of slipping through his fingers, and I refused to put him in danger again. I’d almost lost him forever when the Enphigmalé attacked him. And his only sin had been protecting me.

“Whatever.” The smart-ass remark I’d prepared evaporated into the one word. I didn’t want to fight with him.
Not right now. I had other things on my mind. “I smell like a locker room. I’m taking a shower.” I walked toward the bathroom with a slow, languid gait, my hips screaming an invitation. A satisfied smile curved my lips as I heard Tyler’s chair slide back.

I peeled the tight white T-shirt up the length of my body and over my head, tossing it behind me. I didn’t hear it hit the floor, but I heard Tyler’s breath catch. I paused, kicking off my boots, toeing both of my socks down and over my feet. Cool fingers traced a path up my spine, causing delicious shivers to race along my flesh. He worked the clasp on my bra with ease, pulling the straps down over my shoulders. His breath tickled against my ear.

“I’ll help you wash,” he whispered.

As I led the way to the shower, I heard items of his clothing drop to the floor.

I’d keep him out of trouble, all right. And if that meant using my body and all of my feminine wiles to do it—then so be it.

Chapter 4

T
y lay softly snoring in my bed. He was one tuckered-out genie. I admit, keeping him sedate with sex wasn’t the best plan in the world, but I didn’t have much else in my arsenal at the moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about this mysterious Man. Azriel and Delilah could have been in on the secret, sure. But that didn’t explain my dream. Had my subconscious conjured the Shaede girl and her warning? Who was this Man? Why did he want me? And what the hell did he plan on doing with me once he found me? I wasn’t willing to draw Tyler into any of it. Wishing him out of danger was out of the question, even if it was for his own good. I didn’t own him, regardless of what the bond said to the contrary.

I wriggled my feet into my familiar black boots, feeling a little more like myself. The sun had been past the horizon for an hour, and no matter the advantages my evolution brought, I still felt more comfortable at night.

Shrugging into my black duster, I tossed a note on the empty pillow, where I should’ve been sleeping. Ty would follow me when he woke up, but at least I’d have a head start.

Gone to talk to Levi.

If The Pit had been open twenty-four hours a day, I’d have moved in. I felt absolutely inconspicuous there—a feeling I cherished. Though the bar’s clientele wasn’t exactly limited to those of the human persuasion, it was just normal enough for me to blend in. Most nights I sat
in the darkest corner of the place and people-watched to my heart’s content.

Levi bartended two or three nights a week—mostly weekends. His college-boy looks made him stick out like a sore thumb in the decidedly rougher atmosphere of the bar, but it did wonders for his tip jar. Clean-cut and all-American, Levi had vapid frat-boy written all over him. Looks can be deceiving. Levi was a walking supernatural encyclopedia. If it wasn’t human and walked the earth, he knew something about it. But his services weren’t cheap; even information came with a price tag. Probably how Levi funded his Abercrombie wardrobe and teeth-whitening sessions.

“Don’t worry about bringing a shit storm down on this place,” Levi said, sliding a Midori sour across the bar. “This is neutral ground. You’re safe here. What’s after you this time?”

I sipped the froufrou drink, wrinkling my nose at the syrupy-sweet tang. He served me something new every time I came. First one of the night was always on him. “I wish I knew,” I said, leaning into the bar. “Looking for someone to help me shed a little light on that. Want to throw your hat in the ring?”

Levi poured three shots of vodka and passed them over to the cocktail waitress. “I’ll give it a go.”

I leaned in even closer so I wouldn’t have to shout over the music pumping overhead. The DJ was in rare form, House music being the flavor of the night. I less than loved his selection. “What do you know about a Man from The Ring?”

Levi pulled away and studied me for a second as if trying to decide whether I was joking or not. He didn’t bolster my spirits much. “Could you get any vaguer, Darian? Please tell me that’s not the only bit of information you’re working on.”

Fantastic.
Hunter: one. Hunt
ed
: zip. I was getting nowhere, fast. “It’s all the information I have. You don’t have a clue?”

He thought it over while he mixed a few drinks. You
have to be a multitasker-and-a-half in his line of work. He could probably write a dissertation and juggle at the same time. “Ring,” he finally said, shouting over the heart-stopping bass of the music. “It could mean anything. That’s the problem. It could literally be a ring, like a spirit trapped in a ring. Maybe even a crown. Or it could be something else entirely. A place, or the notion of a place. I’ll need more to go on before I can be any help.”

Disappointed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt about Levi’s lack of knowledge. I’d formed the opinion there wasn’t anything he
didn’t
know. I guess it wasn’t like I could just pop a quarter up his nose and have an answer spit out of his mouth. It would’ve been nice if it worked that way, though. “Sorry, but I’m pretty sure that’s all I’m going to get.”
Considering I killed the asshole who might know more than that little snippet. And my other lead is mad as a hatter.
“What am I looking at here? Can you ask around, see if any of your contacts know anything? Or am I basically fucked?” I slid a hundred-dollar bill across the bar, and he stealthily scooped it up and stuffed it into his pocket.

Levi laughed, showing perfectly straight white teeth. He reminded me of a toothpaste commercial. “You’re not fucked, yet. Give me a few days. I’ll rattle some chains and see what I can come up with. In the meantime, you’d better find a table. Drama’s coming your way.” He jerked his chin toward the entrance.

I recognized Tyler’s shock of coppery curls as he fought through the crowd at the entrance. Even from across the bar, I could tell he was pissed. My jaw set, ready for a fight, I gave Levi a little toast and hauled my ass to my favorite dark corner. I sat with my back against the wall, the open area of the club visible from all sides. No one was going to sneak up on me here.

I sipped the girly green drink, which was starting to grow on me, and innocently trained my eyes on the dance floor. With Ty following my every move, I wasn’t going to get anything accomplished. If I hadn’t cared
about him so much, I would have wished his ass permanently in my apartment. But, just like the drink in my hand, Ty had grown on me as well.

“Sneaky, aren’t you?” he said, throwing himself into the chair across from me. He slapped his palm down on the Formica tabletop, the sound cracking, even above the blaring music. “Think you can just screw me into a coma and run?”

I pretended not to hear him, though my preternatural ears picked up every syllable. Well, I
had
thought screwing him into a coma would keep him safely out of trouble. Bringing the glass to my lips, I drained it in a couple of gulps, then ran my tongue over my now-sugarcoated mouth. Something stronger was in order, and I raised my empty glass to a cocktail waitress who changed course for our table. “Bourbon, neat.” I turned to Tyler. “You want anything?”

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