him.
“Darian, speak to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” I looked away, preferring blurry scenery and car sickness to Fallon’s attempts at conversation. Why had I begun to feel more like a prisoner and less like an accomplice?
Spokane struck me as a city built upon a foundation of churches. From the freeway, they jutted up everywhere and farther out, toward the city proper as well. It was a city of old architecture peppered with new-and a variety of gods watching over it all.
I’d taken jobs for Tyler that led me to other cities, but not often. I liked to stay close to home, to what felt familiar. I didn’t like leaving my comfort zone. Despite its size, Spokane felt small at about two-thirds the population of Seattle, and in turn made me feel exposed. I blended into the Seattle scenery. Here, I stuck out like a sore thumb. There wasn’t the same press of bodies or quick pace that allowed me to go unnoticed. There was too much room to breathe. Too easygoing. Spokane had more of a Small Town, USA, feel: eye contact, open smiles, and friendly curiosity. Not that Seattle wasn’t friendly, but with the big-city pace, people just didn’t have time for much more than a passing glance. We wouldn’t blend in quite as well here. No one in our trio of preternatural fugitives needed that kind of attention.
Fallon abandoned the downtown area, continuing down the freeway toward the Idaho border. We’d be more exposed as we left the population behind, and I wondered at his choice in direction. “Where are we going?” As though it mattered. Every mile we drove was a mile too far. All I wanted was to return home.
“We’ll need to find a hotel. A quiet place where I can lift the magic that imprisons Delilah in her own mind. Isn’t that what you want? To unlock her secrets? I can’t do it from the driver’s seat of this car.”
“And then you’ll get the hourglass. So don’t act like all of this is one magnanimous gesture. Look around you, Fallon,” I said, indicating the thinning urban landscape. “You don’t think we’re going to arouse suspicion?”
“I won’t,” he said. “Glamour, remember?”
I refused to look at him. And why should his ability to glamour bother me? Fae wore glamour to hide from the human populace all the time. Maybe it wasn’t the glamour at all. Since we’d left Seattle, Fallon’s mood and personality had done a complete one-eighty. He’d been uptight, done, and demanding before. Now, he seemed relaxed, cheerful even. He hadn’t mentioned the hourglass since we’d left the city. Why? He’d been itching to get his hands on it before. The damn thing wasn’t out of his reach, though. It was right in the backseat, resting next to Delilah, who might as well have been luggage herself.
As I turned to look at him, the heavy sigh escaped my lips before I thought better of it. The next second, pain and white-hot light exploded in my skull. My head bounced against the window from the impact of the blow, and a swollen knot formed on my temple before healing and shrinking back to nothing. I shook the fog from my brain and tried to calm my suddenly racing pulse and the unpleasant memories that crashed over me like a tidal wave. Too shocked to react, I stared at Fallon in disbelief as he shook out his fist. The coppery tang of blood coated my mouth from the split in my lip, and I passed my tongue over the wound as the skin fused back together.
“You forget, I’m helping you,” he said low, the words infused with rage. “You should be grateful, and instead you’re acting like a spoiled child. I don’t want to hit you, so don’t give me reason to do it again.”
I was dazed, and my breath came in shallow drafts. My heart beat triple time to the passing of seconds, and I squeezed my hands together to keep them from shaking. I had been the victim of an abusive human husband nearly a century and a lifetime ago. Erratic mood swings came standard issue with abuse, and Fallon’s behavior was no exception. With a single punch and a warning, Fallon had reminded me of the woman I used to be and never wanted to be again.
“Lay your fist on me again, Fallon, and I’ll be more than happy to gut you right here on the freeway.” I seethed with pent-up anger, fire burning a path through my veins and pooling in the pit of my stomach. My hands clenched into fists, the urge to retaliate overwhelming. But even as I tried to raise my arm to give him tit for tat, something stayed my progress-a strange compulsion to keep my fists in my lap and my mouth shut.
“Now,” he said, his tone becoming light once again, “let’s find somewhere to settle in.”
Fallon took the next exit and followed the ramp toward a cluster of hotels and a strip mall. We pulled into the parking lot of a Best Western, and he cut the engine, leaning so close to me I could feel his breath on my face. “Stay here.” It was a warning and a command. “I’m going to get us a room, and I’ll be right back.” He took the keys out of the ignition, engaging the alarm as he walked toward the hotel lobby. As I watched him walk, his form shimmered for just a moment, like heat rising from asphalt. By his next step, he’d assumed the guise of a well- coiffed businessman, suit and all. I tried to contain my fear and amazement, but it came out anyway in a sort of half-choked sob.
My cell hadn’t rung for at least a half hour. I pulled it from my pocket, prepared to call Tyler so I could beg him to come and take me home. When I flipped open the phone, the screen flashed
Through the lobby window, I could see Fallon standing at the front desk. He cast the occasional glance back at the car as if afraid I would try to bolt. I don’t know why I didn’t leave. The same strange compulsion I felt around Fallon kept me welded to my seat, as though an unspoken command prevented me from actually following through. Moments later, he emerged from the hotel, smug and satisfied as ever. He tapped a plastic keycard against his palm, his face thoughtful as he kept his businessman guise.
“We’re down there.” He pointed to the farthest end of the building. “I told the front desk I was exhausted and needed some peace and quiet.” His gray eyes hardened as he took his seat, moving the car down the parking lot closer to our room. “I’ll deal with the Oracle; you retrieve my glass.”
And, fool that I was, I did exactly as he asked. I wondered at my behavior. It felt like the moment you realize you’ve had way too much to drink. And even though you know you’re acting like a complete drunken idiot and nothing like your normal self, you do nothing to stop it. I slung the backpack over my shoulder, careful not to jostle the hourglass inside. I followed Fallon like an obedient puppy while he led Delilah toward our room. She stared straight ahead, her head cocking to one side and then the other. If she had any inkling of what was happening to her, the only indication she gave was the slight shiver that occasionally shook her lithe body.
Once inside the drab and uninteresting space that was bound to become my personal hell, Fallon flung himself across one of the queen-sized beds, stretching with languid grace. I’d never seen anyone so bipolar. Just three minutes and fifteen seconds ago, his eyes had flashed with rage. And now he looked like a kid on vacation.
“No doubt Adare is hunting us,” I said, slumping down on the opposite bed. “We shouldn’t have run.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fallon answered. “Where we’re going, they won’t find us.”
My assassin’s instincts took over as I studied the layout of our room. I needed to be familiar with every corner when shit went down. And it would. The better acquainted I became with my surroundings and my accomplice- turned-captor’s mannerisms, the better my chance at escape would become. “I’m not going any farther,” I said, though the words carried little fortitude. “Release Delilah’s mind. I’ll give you the hourglass, and you can be on your way.”
Fallon stood, and I felt my head slowly shrink into my shoulders. A wild silver glint chased across his gaze as he approached and seized me roughly around the throat. “You
I couldn’t speak or draw a breath deep enough to produce any kind of sound. His fingers dug into my tender flesh, bruising, nearly burning me with the contact. The emerald flared in my pocket, hot and angry, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I nodded my head as much as his grip would allow, and he pushed me away, throwing me down on the bed. As I massaged my neck, Fallon paced the room, muttering under his breath. He rounded back to the bed and hauled me up by a handful of hair, pressing the tips of his fingers to the middle of my forehead. I jerked away, but he held me. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry out at the searing contact. Magic flowed over me, binding my body in a second skin.
“I can’t have you leaving,” Fallon said, “or disappearing right under my nose.”
