I sat up in bed, awake, and looked to my left. Tyler was already gone. At least I could head to Xander’s without opposition or worry. Anya didn’t wait for me to respond; she probably hadn’t expected me to. “She’s going to be transported to the PNT’s Oregon headquarters in Portland, and His Majesty would like you to accompany the security team escorting her to the rendezvous point.”
Easy-squeezy. “I can do that,” I said, clearing any trace of sleep from my voice. “But I don’t work for free.”
Anya snorted through the receiver, and I smiled. “He expects you within the hour.”
It didn’t bother me that Ty had left while I slept in. He had to make a living just like anyone else, and he’d complained lately that by working for Xander, I’d cost him a few jobs. Though I didn’t fully understand the larger scope of all of Ty’s business dealings, the area that concerned me was his job as a “death for hire” contractor. If you wanted a sleazy criminal offed, you contacted Tyler. He brokered the deals and contracted the hits, which usually passed down to me. Always understanding, Ty hadn’t made it into a big deal that I hadn’t been as available lately. I needed a break from killing, even if it meant not taking out the bad guy to make the world a safer place for some other person. Azriel’s death had meant more to me than I’d let on, even to Raif. We’d been together; he’d saved me from a life of abuse, and for a while I’d thought I loved him. And in return, I’d taken his life.
I wondered a lot lately if Azriel’s spirit lingered somewhere near. Xander had once told me that Shaedes pass forever into shadow when they die, but he didn’t really elaborate on what happens afterward. He probably didn’t know. Did they go to Shaede heaven, where it was always lovely and dark? Did they stick around, prowling the shadowed corners of the world? Did they remain earthbound to haunt their murderers? A chill raced up my spine, spreading like icy water over my scalp. The last thing I needed right now was an avenging spirit. “Are you here, Az?” I whispered. “Watching me?”
Security detail meant I’d be decked out in black for the day. I needed to look serious, not to mention deadly, and I wasn’t going to pull it off dressed in a lovely white blouse. I pulled out my usual ensemble, nice stretchy pants, a long-sleeved nylon shirt, and, of course, my duster and black boots. I gathered my hair at the nape and braided the long strawberry blond curls before strapping the katana to my back, adding to the severe appearance I’d been looking for. I paused at a pair of black sunglasses and slipped them on, surveying myself in the mirror. “I’ll be back,” I said in my best Schwarzenegger voice before deciding I looked a bit too cliché-better to leave the glasses behind.
Raif met me at Xander’s front door and gave me a brief once-over. “I see you’re going for badass today,” he said, noting the extra set of throwing knives I wore at my waist in addition to the dagger strapped to my thigh. “I think you overdid it, though. This won’t take long.”
Sheesh. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. “Well, I don’t care if it takes ten minutes or ten hours. I wanted to look the part.”
“You succeeded. Let’s get going, then. I don’t want her under this roof for another minute.”
I wanted to ask Raif why, all of a sudden, Delilah was being hastily ushered from Xander’s care. Sure, I knew that eventually the PNT would take her, but I figured she’d be here for weeks until someone came to deal with her. “How is this going down?” I asked instead. “Are we taking her to the airport and loading her up, or are we dragging her all the way to Portland?”
Raif looked at me as though I had an eyeball hanging out of its socket. “Taking her to the airport?” he repeated slowly. “Of course not. She’s a high-profile prisoner. We’re escorting her to an exchange point, where she’ll be housed temporarily. She’ll be transported by a PNT team and taken to the Portland facility later.”
“Okay, don’t get your Calvins in a bunch, Raif. It’s not like Oracle Prisoner Transport is something I do on a daily basis. Shit.”
Raif’s shoulders slumped for the briefest of moments. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have sworn he felt bad for copping an attitude with me. But since I did know better, it was only my smart mouth, spurred by ignorance, that frustrated him. In my defense, it’s not like I could run down to the corner bookstore and buy a copy of Supernatural Existence for Dummies or What to Expect When You’re Expecting Preternatural Company. I’d been forced into a world I never knew existed, and it hadn’t been a gentle introduction by any means. I was learning as best I could, one slow, agonizing step at a time.
Delilah sat on her bed, looking as if she hadn’t moved a fraction of an inch since I’d last seen her a couple of days ago. Still cross-legged, still rocking back and forth, still muttering incoherent words to herself. If anything, she appeared more feral. “It’s time to go, Delilah,” I said, taking her wrists and fastening them in iron cuffs marked with swirling silver symbols. The silver had been woven with magic, according to Raif, and coupled with the iron to ensure Delilah couldn’t escape the manacles. Given her willowy, weak form, I doubted she’d be able to fight her way out of a paper bag.
“The Man, the Man, the Man…,” Delilah sang as I pulled her from the bed. She weighed no more than a small child. “He’s coming, coming, coming…”
“That’s right,” I said, leading her along, “and you’re going, going, going. Move along, out the door, and up the stairs.” I looked at Raif and shook my head. This Oracle was off her nut.
“Marking time, time’s Keeper weeps, along a crumbling path she creeps. Moments long and short she reaps, until the dawning seconds meet!” Delilah laughed as she rhymed, emitting a deep, guttural sound that reminded me of a diabolical cartoon character.
“Sure, sure,” I said through my teeth, pushing her up the stairs. God, could she walk any slower? “The Man is coming, and his girlfriend too. They’re probably crying because they have to follow your slow ass! I get it, Delilah. You’re one crazy bitch.”
She continued on, babbling and laughing and babbling some more. From the look on Raif’s face, he was about to spontaneously combust at any second. It was probably a good thing we were unloading her on the council. Better them than us. Besides, if he’d had to keep her one more day, I doubt I could’ve prevented Raif from granting Delilah’s wish and sending her after her dead sister.
We loaded her into a sleek black Lincoln Navigator, and I couldn’t help but feel a little “covert ops” riding around with the SUV’s tinted glass windows shutting out the world. Raif sat shotgun while I sat in back with Delilah. A Shaede I’d never met before drove us; his straight back and serious countenance in Raif’s presence told me chauffeuring us around town was the high point of his life. Raif was just one of those sorts. No matter whom he met, people wanted to please and impress him. I hated to admit, I did too.
We drove toward the outskirts of the city, away from the Sound and the noise and the people. Crowded streets became an open four-lane freeway, and within twenty minutes we were leaving Seattle behind. “Care to tell me where we’re headed?” I asked, willing to test Raif’s foul mood.
“Away from the city,” Raif said, staring out the window.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious. I could tell that on my own.”
Raif didn’t take the bait, and I folded my arms, put out that I hadn’t been able to engage him. Another fifteen minutes of our prisoner’s crazed mumbling filled my aching ears before we turned onto a paved and gated drive. Our driver stopped, pushed a button on an intercom, and waited.
“State your business,” a crisp male voice said through the speaker.
“We’ve come to deliver High King Alexander’s prisoner,” our driver said. “The Oracle, Delilah.”