I’d been lying on the ground for twenty minutes before he returned. Again, I felt a strange weight in the bottom of my gut, and the atmosphere sparked as if in warning. In the blink of an eye, Ty stood beside me, his expression that of barely controlled rage. My own mood had become less than hospitable, and during Ty’s absence, I’d graduated from wanting to give him a few scrapes to wanting to give him a black eye. With another sweeping motion of his hands, he traced the air above me, and the invisible dome lifted like the weight of too many blankets. I filled my lungs with air, preparing to give it to him with both barrels.
“There’s no sign of the shooter,” Tyler said through gnashed teeth. “Anywhere! How did the fucker get away?”
I drew my dagger and pointed it dead center at Ty’s sternum. Ain’t love grand? “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” My voice dripped with poison. “You understand?”
He took a step toward me, his arms outstretched and palms facing upward as if he were pleading for understanding. Sorry, buddy. That well’s all dried up. Tyler’s love was absolute, uncompromising-just as strong as the bond he’d secured when he pledged himself as my genie. And his protection extended to the point of near obsession. Any other girl would have been swooning over his gallant display.
I am not any other girl.
I put my free hand out to stay his progress while I kept the dagger’s tip held high in front of his face. He walked right into my palm, and I felt the beat of his heart even through the thick fabric of his coat. Strong, steadily slowing from the previous exertion of the chase. “Darian, I-”
“Never again, Ty,” I said. “I’m not fucking around.”
I could have listened while he apologized and spilled his guts about how he’d only been trying to protect me, how much he loved me. I could have forgiven him on the spot, and we could’ve gone back to my place, arm in arm, a perfect loving couple.
Instead, I joined the night air and left him right where he stood.
Under the cover of shadow, I came around to the front entrance of the bar. The thrumming pulse of supernatural energy danced across my skin, something familiar and powerful. A woman darted across the street and paused on the sidewalk, glancing anxiously toward the alley I’d just come from. I recognized her from the PNT Summit a few months ago: She was a Sidhe, one of the oldest and most powerful species in the Fae lineage.
Moira.
What the hell was she doing here?
Her gaze settled across the street, on the exact spot where I stood. Eyes narrowed shrewdly, she smiled as if she could see me through the cover of shadow before taking off at a run. She moved so fast, in fact, that I lost sight of her before I could even think of chasing after her.
Sunlight tingles like tiny pinpricks of sensation when it joins with my skin. The gray indifference of dusk and dawn leave me feeling too warm and suffocated, like I’m wearing a scratchy wool sweater in the middle of August. Nothing appeals to me in the way that welcoming darkness does. Like cool satin flowing over my flesh. Despite what I am now, I have always loved the moonlit hours. Even in my human life, I preferred the night. So I suppose I’d always been a Shaede in my heart of hearts.
Was I still?
I stepped from the cowl of darkness into my solid form. I had no desire to travel unseen, though my near brush with death-or something worse-suggested that traveling under the cover of shadow might have been the wiser choice. Ignoring my better judgment, I walked with a swagger that would have set a gangbanger back on his heels. Throwing myself out there like a fresh piece of meat was a fuck-you to whoever had slung a magic arrow at my head. A big fuck-you. I was pissed and didn’t care who knew it.
It wasn’t quite midnight, and Seattle was barely gearing up. I cut across First Avenue, hit Stewart Street, and headed toward the Market. Along with the Space Needle, Pike Place Market is one of Seattle’s most notable icons. Probably why I always felt compelled to go there, no matter the time of day. Humans had always drawn my curiosity, as well as the places they frequented. I was intrigued by the normalcy of their actions, the sense of safety that prompted them to operate with their guards down. False comfort. I knew from experience that ignorance was bliss. I envied them that ignorance, and I wished like hell I could get mine back.
The tails of my duster bounced against my heels as I walked. Heavily scented air caressed my face-a musty smell of brine, fish, and green things-the waterfront making its way to me. My steps against the cobbled sidewalk ticked in precise rhythm to my internal clock. I counted the seconds: one, two, three, four…until my anger had finally begun to subside. I stared up at the Public Market sign glowing bloodred against the backdrop of darkness. Blood…A shiver ran up my spine like tiny insects. My blood happened to be special. It had brought Tyler back from the brink of death. I was so unique, in fact, I’d become the prey of an unknown hunter. Tonight’s near miss had been proof enough of that.
Tall buildings loomed to my left, their mirrored windows winking in the glowing light of streetlamps, the tops swallowed by dark night. As I paused midstep, the feeling of insects traveling the highways of my skin intensified. Someone, or something, was watching me. Instinctively I reached with my right hand for my left shoulder blade, where my katana usually hung. I’d left it at home-lovely-so I fingered the hilt of my dagger instead. I never used guns. Too impersonal.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are…,” I whispered, standing still as a statue as I tried to gauge the location of my hidden admirer. A breeze rustled my hair, bringing with it a tang that burned my nostrils. The scent was unfamiliar, but that didn’t mean anything. Friend or foe, I’d learned months ago that creatures scarier than I roamed at the edge of the shadows.
What happened next is still hazy in my memory. Surreal is the best way to describe it, but time meant something different to me. And though I’m sure everything passed in real time, to my perception it passed in the blink of an eye.
A falcon appeared out of the shadowed night, its white belly nearly scraping the top of my head in passing. Something glowed in the grip of its talons, a bright green gem dangling from a silver chain. The keening sound, like a war cry, screeched from the bird’s beak, and it dropped its cargo, tinkling at my feet before coming to rest. I looked to the sky, determined to track the bird’s passage. Climbing high above the streetlamp’s luminescence, it landed atop a nearby building as if waiting to see what I’d do.
The remnant left by the falcon cast a dull green glow at my feet; heat slithered up from the cobbles, warming my ankles through the heavy boots. And as if I needed a distraction-the protesting whine of tires sliding across pavement-a horn blared in warning, followed by the crunch of metal and plastic. Goddamn it.
Once the chain reaction started, it could only end in one place-right at my feet. I dipped and scooped the glowing green gem up in my hands and pushed, hard, with both feet, catapulting myself a good ten yards in the air. Shadow joined with flesh, consuming my physical body and concealing me in the safety of my Shaede form.