Blood Before Sunrise

computer screen, fingers flying on the keyboard. A small waiting area, complete with couches, magazines, and one of those pump coffee carafes and cups, looked, for the most part, unused. Beyond the front entrance, a row of elevators lined a far wall, and behind the receptionist’s desk were several small offices with closed metal doors. All in all, it was not an overly friendly atmosphere.

I felt Fallon’s presence behind me, the power he exuded nearly stealing my breath. He passed the reception desk toward the elevators, and I followed. One set of metal doors slid open, and Fallon stepped inside. I paused, my eyes scanning the small box and its lack of actual space. Anxiety coursed through my blood, and he met my gaze, his gray eyes burning into mine. “Afraid?” he asked.

The look he gave was an open challenge, and I wasn’t one to back down. But damned if I wasn’t off my game; he unsettled me, and I felt the sudden urge to wish out loud for Adare to be standing here with me instead. I clamped my jaw tight, as if my mouth might betray me and actually make the wish. Shooting a quick glance over my shoulder to the receptionist, I stepped inside and watched as the first floor was closed from my view. “Have you worked for the PNT long?” I asked. Raif hadn’t known him, only heard of him, and I assumed Raif to be very connected. If he didn’t know Fallon personally, he couldn’t have been here long.

Fallon pushed the button marked B for the basement floor. “No,” he said, confirming my suspicion, “I’ve been here only a couple of months. Came over from the Northeast Division. Connecticut.”

I didn’t think any of this information would be good for anything, but the small talk helped to calm my skittering nerves. “Needed a change of scenery?”

“You could say that,” Fallon answered. “Seattle holds something dear to me.”

Can you say awkward? I stared at my feet as our conversation died a quick and painful death. A million times over, I silently wished I’d stayed in bed with Tyler and wasted the day away. Instead, I was going out of my fucking mind with this stranger standing too close beside me, his unusual energy pulling my nerves so taut, I thought they’d snap.

The elevator stopped and the doors slid open, much to my relief. I wouldn’t have lasted another thirty seconds in such close proximity to my escort without clawing my way out of the elevator. I allowed him to walk in front of me, giving him a healthy head start. His gait was calm, easy with the fluid motion of a stalking cat. We made our way down a long hallway illuminated by a single row of fluorescent lights. None of the doors had latches, I noticed, but beside each on the wall was an electronic keypad. Fallon stopped at the end of the hall, turned to his right, and punched a code into the corresponding keypad.

The door slid open and Fallon announced, “The Oracle,” as if he were introducing me to the queen.

I stepped past him into the stark white cell. Sadly, this was sizing up to be one bitch of a day. Delilah’s accommodations at Xander’s house had been like the Ritz-Carlton in comparison to where she was now. I took stock of the room: four concrete walls: check; windows, or rather lack thereof: check; absence of any comfort, even the most remote-oh yeah, the PNT had that covered too. The room was empty. No furniture-not even a dirty mattress for the poor creature to sleep on. No toilet. I didn’t even want to guess how she was taking care of that issue.

Like a tiny speck of dirt on a fresh-snow-covered field, Delilah sat on the floor. She was no longer rocking, to my relief, but she was huddled close to a corner, her knobby knees drawn up tight to her chest and her arms hugging her body as if keeping it intact. She looked so young, so completely breakable, that I almost felt sorry for her. “Bet you wish you were anywhere but here right now,” I said. Delilah completely ignored me.

Fallon stepped into the room, and Delilah’s head snapped to attention like a dog hearing a high-frequency whistle. Her unseeing eyes stared straight ahead, but her head cocked in the avian fashion that made her stand out as something other than human. She must have felt his energy as well because, as soon as he cleared the threshold, Delilah began to shake all over, her tiny bare feet scuttling her back against the corner as if she could will the walls to swallow her whole. I stared from Delilah to Fallon, thinking again of Raif’s warning that he was dangerous.

“Okay, Delilah,” I said, going for my best impression of fed-up mom. “Your weak-and-frightened act is getting a little boring. I’ve got a lot of questions and not a lot of time. So let’s get down to business. If you cooperate, I promise not to hit you-much. If you don’t cooperate…well, I’ll use my fists instead of an open hand. Got it?”

She didn’t respond, though her mouth opened and closed, like a fish that had been dragged up onshore. I sighed. I wanted to get the hell out of there-fast-and Delilah was not making this easy for me. “Delilah!” I nudged at her bare foot, and she flinched. “I know you can hear me, you blind pain in the ass! Knock this shit off. Remember the night I hauled your skinny ass over to Xander’s? You mentioned Raif’s daughter. Where is she?”

Nothing. Unless you wanted to count her fish-mouth routine.

I took a step forward, bending low and wrapping my hand around the collar of her shirt. As I hauled her to her feet, her head cocked rapidly from side to side and a strangled cry escaped her lips. “Answer me!” I shouted, giving her a solid shake.

“She can’t,” Fallon finally said. “I told you, you weren’t going to get anything out of her.”

I dropped Delilah to the floor, and she scrambled back to her perch in the corner of the room. Her body shook like a hypothermia victim, her head cocking toward any sound. I folded my arms-more or less to occupy my hands- wishing I had something I could punch just to release my own tension. Fuck it all, this day was going to shit fast. “Why won’t she speak?” My voice was hard enough to cut glass.

Fallon stepped forward and passed his open palm in the air above Delilah’s forehead. A mark appeared, glowing gold at the point of her third eye. “She’s been restrained by magic,” he said. “You saw Adare cast the spell the day you brought her here, did you not? She’ll be unable to speak or act against anyone until the date of her trial. It’s standard PNT procedure.”

Oh. Just. Great.

I turned on Fallon. “You know, it might have been nice to know that before I hauled her scrawny ass up off the floor and shook her like a wet cat. And if you’d mentioned this when I arrived, I wouldn’t be down in this dungeon, wasting my fucking time.”

“Whom are you looking for?” Fallon asked, ignoring everything I’d just said.

“None of your goddamned business-that’s who I’m looking for.”

“Touchy.” He leveled his gaze, another challenge.

“You could say that.”

“Who’s Raif?”

Who’s Raif? This guy wasn’t from the Northeast; he was from another planet. Raif’s reputation preceded him. You had to have been living under a rock not to have at least heard of Raif Peck. Then again, I’d lived almost a hundred years without hearing even a whisper of his name. But I could hardly be blamed for that. The supernatural world had kept a safe distance from me all those years. And I sure as hell hadn’t been looking for them.

“Raif is…” What was he? The prince? An earl? I had no idea what the king’s brother’s official title was. “The High King’s brother. And all around badass,” I added. “I believe Delilah knows the whereabouts of his daughter, who’s been missing for quite a while.”

“Why didn’t Raif come here himself to question the Oracle?”

His tone matched the look in his eyes, an underlying command. And even as I gave up this secret information, I wondered what in God’s name would possess me to tell him. I’d had no intention of sharing this secret with anyone. Yet here I was, spilling the beans to someone who made me want to jump out of my skin. It seemed I couldn’t wait to provide information to him. I needed to leave before I started rambling on about my fabulous sex life.

“Raif doubts her.” I jerked my head toward Delilah. Shut up, Darian! “And so I decided to take up the cause myself.” Zip it, for Christ’s sake!

Something flashed in Fallon’s eyes, like lightning on a dark gray afternoon. “Perhaps I could help you on your quest?”

Not bloody likely. “I doubt that.” That’s right. You don’t need to spill your guts to him!

“What if I told you I could lift the spell before the trial?”

Oh boy. Shit. I bucked my chin up, met his steely gaze. “Do it, then.”

“Not now,” he said, lowering his voice. “But soon. Be patient, and I’ll be in touch.”