Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

If I’d raised my chin any higher, I would have been looking at the ceiling. I stared right through him, neither acknowledging nor ignoring his words.

I’d always believed I was alone.

I’d taught myself how to fight, how to survive, how to be .

I’d never needed others of my kind to give me a sense of who I was.

And if Xander thought he could march in and change my entire universe with a snap of his royal fingers . . .

“I know you hear my words,” he said like a father to a stubborn child, “and you have much to learn. But know that you are summoned to your king’s service, and you will do the job I have paid you to do. You may go, and we will speak again.”

I stood, gaping for a moment at his casual dismissal, before I turned my back with neither a bow nor a word of parting. Throbbing heat pulsed from the gash in my side, and I drew in shallow breaths to control my anger as much as the pain. I refused to show Xander any weakness. With a sweeping motion, I retrieved my soiled shoes, walked with as much dignity as if I were myself a queen, and pulled open the heavy metal door.

“Darian,” Xander, the King of Shaedes, called from across the building.

I paused, halfway out the door.

“I enjoyed watching you tonight.”

I passed into shadow and became one with the night.

Chapter 5

Tyler was waiting up for me like a dad on his daughter’s first date. He paced the small space of my living room like a caged animal, one hand raking through his hair, the other clutching a beer. A dark expression clouded his handsome face as he picked up his pace and the amber brew sloshed around in the bottle. His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a great gust, and he muttered a curse under his breath. When I stepped into view, he stopped dead in his tracks, relief showing in the way his shoulders suddenly sagged.

Dead on my feet and pissed to boot, I wanted nothing more than to discard my bloodied clothes and tend to my wound, which had already begun to heal.

“Hey—” He cut off when he caught sight of my blood-spattered and torn shirt. Great . “What the hell happened?” he demanded, rushing toward me with an urgency that didn’t exactly mesh with the moment. “Did they hurt you? I never should have left you there alone. Damn it!” His hands balled up in tight fists at his side, and the muscle at his jaw ticked. The anger rising from his body was so intense I could smell it, and I fought my own reaction to his protective attitude. To think of him worrying about me in that way sent a warm tingle through my body that made itself at home in the traitorous nerves below my waist.

He surged forward in a rush, his face flushed with rage. “Don’t,” I commanded, holding him at arm’s length. “I’m fine; the wound’s already healing. Don’t go all mushy and try to take care of me.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“I sort of picked a fight.”

His expression softened, but only a little. “Wow, that’s really out of character for you. The dominatrix?”

His little attempt at sarcasm put a smile on my face, and I had to admit I was grateful for the levity. “I broke her nose.” Despite his outrage, Tyler knew I was no delicate flower. In fact, once he’d said that I could probably take on an entire company of Navy SEALs and kill them before they knew I was there. He was right, of course.

He wanted details, but I wasn’t saying anything until I’d cleaned up. “I need to shower,” I said. “But answer me one question first. Did you know he wasn’t human when you set up the job?”

“No,” he answered, dead serious. When it came to business, Ty didn’t mess around, and I trusted him.

“Okay. That’s all I needed to know.” I started toward the bathroom, unbuttoning my shirt as I went. Ty’s gaze burned a hole in my back, but I didn’t dare turn around unless I wanted a repeat performance of his earlier ardor. I didn’t know how I felt about what he’d done or how I’d reacted, but I wasn’t ready to think about it.

I took a quick, screaming-hot shower. The gash left by Anya’s knife looked a little worse than I’d expected, but the wound puckered where the skin had begun to fuse. It hadn’t completely closed up yet, but the flesh looked healthy and clean. Soon there wouldn’t even be a scar left to betray the injury.

After toweling off, I stepped into my robe and ventured out to check on Ty. He was asleep on my couch. Convenient. I was about to kick him out and send him on his way, but he looked so peaceful. I stood over him for a minute and found my thoughts drifting to how he’d look in the morning, with the sun’s first light on his resting face. I snapped to and realized I was obviously exhausted and delirious. So I left him alone, and, slipping out of the robe, slid between my cool sheets and let the warm air of my apartment lull me into a much-deserved slumber.

“Darian.”

Cool breath trickled over my cheek. I didn’t try to make myself wake up.

A hand brushed at my hair, sweeping it away from my forehead. A deep sigh and another wash of cool air. “Darian.”

The whispered voice spoke more clearly, and fingers traced over my bare arm, up and around my shoulder, grazing the skin at my collarbone. Shivering from the skin-on-skin contact, I rolled onto my back to give those fingers a wider canvas to paint on. This was a dream I didn’t want to wake from. Lips brushed my forehead, tracing a line down my temple to my jawline. I arched my back, and my nipples hardened as my breasts strained against the sheet. A sharp intake of breath that wasn’t mine brought me to awareness. I wasn’t dreaming and I wasn’t alone in my bed.

Tyler.

Even if I wanted him close, it couldn’t happen now. My life had taken an unexpected turn down a dangerous road. I couldn’t risk Tyler’s safety. A new world unraveled around me—and he had become a liability by association. I could hope Xander would leave him alone. But I couldn’t be sure. Whether I wanted it or not, distance was what we both were going to get. He needed to be taught a lesson, and I was more than happy to oblige him. I feigned a languid stretch with the arm not anchored by Ty’s fingers and absently slipped my hand beneath the pillow. My fingers found the hilt of the dagger and I paused, waiting for the right moment. I didn’t want to kill him, after all; I just wanted to reaffirm some boundaries.

Bending low, he took a huge whiff of my hair. Seriously— smelling my hair. I sensed him shift on the bed, straightening, and I struck.

I brought the blade around in a movement so fast that it must have been a blur in his slow human vision. The steel winked at me, the tip glinting against the hollow of his throat, and I pressed gently against his tender skin. Propping myself on the other elbow, I glanced down at his hand still touching me.

He didn’t make a sound. Actually, he didn’t even jump. I had to give him credit: The boy had balls. His mouth spread into a slow, sheepish grin, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Giving a gentle shake of my head, I pressed the blade deeper into the recess of his throat. “May I ask what you’re doing?” I didn’t move the blade. Not an inch.

“Admiring you,” he said. “You look different when you’re asleep. Softer.”

Had he known I’d been watching him last night? Rather than push him away, my actions were only drawing us closer. I wanted to slap myself for being stupid enough to let Tyler kiss me outside of that warehouse.

“You know, it’s not advisable to molest a dangerous woman while she sleeps. You might find yourself bereft of your head.”

“I would never hurt you, Darian,” he said.