“I would say so,” Raif said, examining the Lyhtan’s security detail. “How did you know?”
I wanted to shout with glee. Finally, I knew something that Raif didn’t have to tell me first! Thank you, Levi! “I have my sources,” I said, before snapping back into business mode. “Raif, it’s obviously not safe to be here. Especially after the attack this morning.”
Xander brushed the comment aside with a wave of his hand. “This is a diplomatic meeting. No violence.”
“Then why am I here?” I asked.
Xander chuckled but didn’t get the opportunity to answer. A man—not Shaede or anything else I’d ever seen—stepped to the middle of the square near the brazier and held his arms to the sky, palms facing up. He bore a striking resemblance to the Sidhe, Moira and Reaver, but at the same time, his features were different enough that I knew he wasn’t one of them. A strange master of ceremonies, he tipped his head back and chanted something, his voice melodious and reverent, in a language that meant nothing to me.
The king and everyone else present bowed their heads. I took a step back and did the same, feeling a lot like a guest at a church I didn’t attend. When the man was done with his prayer, or whatever it was, I studied him at length.
I sensed the hum coming from his direction, making me assume he was one of the faerie attendees Raif had mentioned earlier. Even beneath the surface of his glamour, he could’ve passed for human if he’d wanted to. He’d have to hide the slightly pointed ears and do something about the long, silvery-white hair, though. That might stand out in a crowd. An ageless quality graced his face; it seemed impossible to determine if he was old, young, adolescent. . . . His skin, smooth and fair, bore no wrinkles, even when his eyes narrowed at the corners.
The hum emanating from where he stood hit me like it was being funneled right into my chest. I concentrated on the sensation for a moment. It must have been magic; that’s the only way I can describe it. I sensed power in him and felt it deep down in my bones.
He held a black velvet bag over the brazier and dumped out the contents. My breath caught as I watched the bleached-white hunks fall out. I expected them to tumble into the fire, but as if they’d been cast on a glass tabletop, the items rolled out like dice and settled on the air.
“The runes have selected the High King of the Shaede Nation, Alexander Peck, to speak first.”
A corner of Raif’s mouth tugged into a smirk, and Xander stood. “War stands at our doorstep.”
“It stands only at your doorstep, Shaede,” someone called out, eliciting nods of approval and shouts of encouragement. “Why should any of the other nations care about your coup?”
Xander placed his palms on the surface of the table and leaned down, eyeing the member of each delegation before he spoke. “If my nation is conquered, who’s to say yours won’t be next?” He pointed to the opposite table. “Or yours?” He pointed to his right. “Mine is only the beginning of a much larger problem.”
A murmur ran through the seated delegates.
“We live on the precipice of discovery. The balance between our kind and the humans could be tipped by the slightest shift in power. Can we afford discovery? Are you willing to put your people at risk?”
“What do you propose, High King?” The faerie master of ceremonies asked from the center of the square.
With his palms on the table to prop him up, Xander slowly spread his hands outward, lowering himself into a humble position. He bowed his head to show respect for the delegates seated around him. I held my breath, my pulse strumming in my ears. He was magnificent—playing to the crowd, playing to their egos, sacrificing his own pride for the betterment of his kingdom. I felt as though I would drown in the aura of his presence.
“An enemy to one of us is an enemy to us all. We have lived peaceably these many centuries. I see no reason for our lives not to continue in peace. Consider our position in this matter . . .” Xander continued to plead his case, and my gaze wandered to Tyler, who watched the spectacle with deep interest. In turn, I studied his facial expressions. And then he looked at me. He stared right at me, his hazel eyes pools of warmth and feeling that conveyed a thousand words without speaking. I saw in his eyes the words I hoped I’d never have to hear because I didn’t know how I’d respond. I’m in love with you.
I broke free from the powerful hold of his stare, and the emotions that caused my own to swirl with uncertainty, to train my eyes on the other delegates seated at the tables. Xander was gaining ground; I read it on most of their faces. One by one, I recognized a change in their attitudes with the softening of their expressions. The Lyhtan delegate shimmered in the light of day, the many facets of dancing color almost grotesque as it mocked the ugliness of the creature itself. I shuddered as our eyes locked and a trail of spittle dribbled from its leering mouth. It would have been much more appealing as the tiny glittering insect I’d seen on the day of my attack. But all the beauty in the world couldn’t mask the ugliness of their character. I continued to stare, and it snapped its strong jaws twice, the sound popping loudly in the mostly quiet building. It alone seemed untouched by Xander’s humble act.
The Shaede King straightened and his smooth, wonderful voice boomed in the huge warehouse. “My friends, I would never ask you to fight a battle that isn’t yours to fight. I ask only that if the need arises, you send aid.”
As Xander’s pomp and circumstance drew to a close, the growl of an engine announced its presence just outside. Tires squealed and came to a stop, and four figures dressed head to toe in red, complete with face masks, rolled aside the massive doors. Sunlight streamed in behind them, shading two more ominous figures.
“It seems a representative is missing from these proceedings!” one of them called out. They cast a tiny bundle to the concrete floor. It rolled once and landed like a sack of rocks several feet from where I stood. The hooded party crashers backed away from their cargo and turned to run. Car doors slammed in the distance before the screeching of tires signaled their hasty departure. We stood in stunned silence, listening as the sound of the fleeing vehicle grew fainter by the second.
A collective gasp broke the peace, and not a soul dared to move toward the bundle. I rolled my eyes. What a bunch of cowards. I drew the katana from behind my back and approached the object with measured steps. I heard a soft moan that wouldn’t have been detected by human ears; mine barely picked up the sound. I rushed the last few feet, sheathing the sword and going to my knees. Quickly, I fumbled with the ropes tied around the rough burlap sack and pulled it off a tiny girl beaten so badly, she was almost unrecognizable.
Oh, my God. I sucked in a lungful of air, and milky blue eyes rolled in her head, which cocked very slightly, moving toward the sound of my inhalation. I’d found one thing I’d been looking for.
Chapter 20
Tyler slid down beside me on his knees and bent over Delilah’s limp and almost lifeless body. His fingers glided to her throat and he sat, statuelike, while he searched for a pulse. I knew he’d found one when his body relaxed.
“We’ve got to get her out of here,” Ty said, turning to me.
“Take her to my house,” Xander said. His warm voice actually made me jump, and a moment later his palm came to rest on my shoulder. “Raif and Anya will take her in the other car. There’s plenty of room.” I could sense the reluctance in his voice when he added for Tyler’s benefit, “You can come as well.”
When Ty looked at me, his face was a mixture of rage and sorrow. Delilah had moxie, but her tiny little body couldn’t have held out for long. And she’d taken one hell of a beating. As if he were lifting a newborn child, he took her in his arms. Her head lolled back, lacking even the strength to rest on his shoulder.