Blood Before Sunrise

Chapter 13

“You look like death warmed over.”

Tyler shrugged as he stuffed his foot into a tennis shoe. “I’ll be fine.”

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” In all the years I’d known Tyler, I’d never seen him sick-not once. Aside from the injuries from his recent attack, and his reaction to the Enphigmale bites, he’d never had so much as a head cold. Now, he looked haggard, his usual glowing complexion was ashen, and a sheen of sweat was breaking out on his brow. Anxiety twisted my stomach into a pretzel.

Tyler slumped back in his seat, averting my gaze. “Something’s screwing with our bond, I think.”

“Something?”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Or someone.”

“I don’t feel anything. Are you sure?”

Tyler’s sad smile clawed at my heart. “You wouldn’t feel anything. The bond flows through you into me. You’re like a conduit. I just need to find out who, or what, is causing this. And why.”

Screw the whos and whys. All I cared about was Ty’s safety. “Can this hurt you?”

“Not really. It’s just thrown me off, messed with my emotions. I feel a little out of whack. But I need to get to the bottom of this. I’ve got a contact that might be able to help. The thing is…”

I held my breath.

“I can’t exactly let you come with me.”

And I exhaled.

“Will you be all right on your own tonight?”

Perfect.

“If not, I can wait-”

“No, Ty. I’ll be fine. Go take care of business, talk to whoever it is you need to talk to. I want to know what’s going on as much as you do. I don’t like to see you like this, whether it’s just making you feel a little off or not.” I couldn’t believe my luck. It was as if someone had handed the night to me on a silver platter. Tyler could work on fixing his problem while I went to meet Fallon.

Too perfect.

Seven wasn’t your run-of-the-mill club. More of a place to engage in unrepentant debauchery. With areas sectioned off and devoted to each of the deadly sins, you could eat, drink, gamble, and screw yourself straight to hell. Of course, that was just the tip of the iceberg. There wasn’t much you couldn’t get away with inside the walls of Seven, and I wondered at Fallon’s choice of meeting place until I walked through the doors.

An assortment of Seattle’s supernatural partied alongside unsuspecting humans. Curious stares followed me through the club while fingers pointed in my direction. My career as an assassin would be shot to hell if my notoriety didn’t die down soon. I even noticed a few humans tapping shoulders, asking over the music who I was and what all the fuss was about. I’d become pretty popular since I’d returned from the island. It wasn’t every day you came back from a kidnapping a completely different creature than the one you had left as.

The club was made up of a series of rooms more or less. High archways like wooden canopies marked off each area, and at the top of each canopy was a word written in red neon flames. An ambitious partyer could take a tour of hell’s temptations all in one night. Under the Wrath canopy, brawlers swung their fists without fear of being removed from the premises. Within the boundaries of the Greed room, gambling tables enticed many a player to build and lose their fortunes. The Sloth canopy protected the partyers coming down from their highs, strewn about the room like garbage littering the sidewalk. Pride showcased rows of large mirrors, and beautiful creatures showcased their bodily assets. Gluttony provided endless food and drink, and from the center of the club, a raised room ringed with glass provided occupants of Envy with a bird’s-eye view of all the things they coveted.

I spotted Fallon in the area of the club marked Lust. Over the haunting beats of Marilyn Manson’s rendition of “Sweet Dreams” and through the energy of the other inhuman creatures, I could feel him. That inexplicable burst of power stole my breath, and I considered running for the door and never turning back. But I thought of the rushed and fierce hug Raif had given me two nights ago, and I strengthened my resolve. I could grow a pair and deal with my discomfort-for a while.

Red velvet and black silk curtains lined the small room. Instead of booths or tables, I was welcomed by an assortment of beds piled with pillows and dressed in shiny satins. Keeping my gaze straight ahead, I tried not to look at the occupied spaces, but I could tell by the writhing bodies in my peripheral vision that these people weren’t too particular about who watched their nocturnal activities.

Fallon seemed to be enjoying himself. Surrounded by Fae-as far as I could tell-with a female at each side and a sweet-faced male behind him, he lounged while many sets of fingertips and mouths caressed his skin. I shivered in the dim light and gripped the handle of my dagger for comfort. Though I could tolerate a lot, public orgies were not on my list of things I cared to witness.

As if he’d only noticed me standing at the foot of his…bed, Fallon dismissed his groupies with a wave of his hand. He could have given Xander a run for his money with his regal behavior. His admirers glared my way before bestowing some over-the-top pouty and pleading faces. Fallon answered with a stern expression, and the trio hopped off the bed as if it were on fire.

“Have a seat,” he said.

I took a step forward, feeling that strange pull to do whatever he told me. I steeled myself against the compulsion and ground the balls of my feet into my boots as if they could keep me planted to the floor. “I think I’ll stand.”

Fallon’s eyes narrowed, but he quickly erased the menace with a smile. “Don’t you like it here?”

“I’d rather hang out in a public toilet,” I said. “Whatever you have to say, say it fast so I can go home and sanitize. No telling what I might catch.”

He shrugged as if to say, Suit yourself. I already didn’t like his taste in entertainment; how I’d be able to cooperate with him was beyond me. Delilah’s information had better be gold, or I’d kill her just for making me go through all of this. A waitress, clad in nothing but a skimpy push-up bra and a thong, brushed by me. The heels of her stilettos were high enough to kill her if she tripped, but by the way her ass jiggled when she walked, I got the impression she didn’t care as long as she looked good while she fell. She placed a drink on a table beside the bed and traced her fingers down Fallon’s arm before scooping a twenty from his palm. Flashing an aren’t-you-jealous glance my way, she meandered away to other beds and other customers.

Fallon wiped the hand the waitress had touched on the bedsheets as if he’d just dipped it in a bucket of chicken fat. “Humans,” he spat. “How do you stand them?”

I didn’t justify his prejudice with a response. I’d been human once, after all, and as far as I could tell, some of them far outweighed Fallon on the respectability scale. “What do you have for me?” My patience had stretched very thin. “Either you can help me with Delilah or you can’t.”

“Oh, I can help you,” he said, patting the empty space next to him on the bed. “But nothing in this world is free.”

An unpleasant shudder passed from the top of my head down my spine. My foot slid across the floor, pulling my body closer to him. The other foot followed, and I pressed down on my heels to keep my feet planted right where they were. I found the man utterly repulsive; yet something beckoned me closer. “What’s your price?” I asked through gnashed teeth. My foot twitched impatiently. “I’ll need to know if it’s worth my while.”

“Sit,” Fallon said.

“Fuck. No.”

His eyes hardened; his full mouth became a tight line. “Sit. Down.”

The force of that last word snapped my resolve and, against my will, I stumbled toward the bed. As if I had no control over my actions, I lowered myself on the edge, my feet still on the floor, and Fallon smiled. “That’s better. Really, Darian, you should try to relax. Enjoy yourself.”

“This is as relaxed as I’m going to get,” I said more to myself than to him. My pulse picked up double time as I wondered what could have made me act against my will. No way in hell was I going to let my body rebel against my mind again.