Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

After resigning myself to sleep, I lay in bed, tossing and turning and tossing some more. I wasn’t used to staying in at night. I guess I didn’t go out because I expected company. Since no one cared enough to stop by, I wasn’t about to go looking for either one of them. After a few more angry tosses, I finally found a forced sleep that had about as much to do with rest as knitting had to do with swimming.

Something startled me awake. I lay unmoving to better listen, smell, feel the air for any distinct changes. Besides the scurrying sound of an insect across my floor, nothing betrayed who—or what—stirred me from slumber. The sound persisted; it must have been one hell of a busy bug. My eyes began to slide shut, and I allowed them to close all the way, thinking any danger was beyond me.

The sound of voices drifted to my ears sometime later. The strangest thing was not the voices, but the fact that they were all facets of the same voice. An echo of sorts, it called out to me in different tones, but spoke as if from one mouth, one throat, and one being. I would have thought I was dreaming if I hadn’t felt its breath on my face.

“Darian.”

The moment brought to mind Tyler stretched out beside me in bed, whispering my name while he stroked my hair. His words had been spoken tenderly, though, and the voice speaking my name now seethed with menace.

“Darian.”

My eyes were closed, but my senses were as sharp as the katana I wished I still had. A suffocating pressure, like being trapped under a fallen log, pressed all around me. Since my night at the warehouse, I’d come to realize that in the presence of a Shaede the air becomes palpable, dense. I felt this other creature, just as I had my newfound brethren, though the sensations were like night and day. Aside from that, I didn’t know who—or what—it was.

“Darian.” Again, my name floated to my ears, carried by myriad tiny voices melded into one. I shivered at the whispering sound and wrinkled my nose in distaste as a foul smell reached me.

“Who’s there?” I asked stupidly. I mean, it wasn’t like the disembodied voice was going to answer, Oh, sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m George . . .

The voice didn’t answer—what a shocker—and I slowly inched the covers from my body, readying to defend myself if the need arose. The flutter of something touching my face sent my heart hammering against my rib cage. Like the kiss of sunlight or the stirring of air, I felt the microscopic hairs on my cheek move, sending a tingle deep into my flesh.

“I’d like nothing more than to suck your innards out through your nose. I bet you taste as sweet as honey.” The words, whispered from the many-faceted voice, stretched my nerves taut, leaving a hollow ache I was desperate to escape.

“You can try,” I said, cranking up the bravado. “But maybe I’ll surprise you and make you sorry you ever stepped foot in here.” The pounding inside my chest intensified. “If you’re so goddamned tough, why don’t you show yourself?”

“Perhaps after the eclipse,” the voices sighed. “I wonder, will it change the way you taste? No harm is to come to you until then. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you in the meantime.”

Invisible claws, like shards of broken glass, scraped me from head to toe. I clamped my teeth together and pushed my tongue against them, determined not to cry out. I squeezed my eyes tight, feeling the moisture escape from my lids as I lay as still as possible.

The encounter lasted only seconds, though it felt like agonizing hours. By slow degrees, I unclenched my jaw, fingers and toes relaxing, followed by arms and legs, and finally my core. Again, I heard the scurrying, like mouse scratches in the wall, fading into silence. Alone . No one here but me, my heavy breathing, and pain . Lots of pain.

Early-morning sun shone in through the skylights, casting a lemon yellow glow on the white coverings of my bed. My pulse picked up its beat once again. What nature of creature could have come to me invisibly in the light of day? I wasn’t going to burst into flames if I walked outside at high noon, but I was confined to my solid self. This creature didn’t seem to share my restraints. No Shaede, that was for sure. And talk about creepy. What the hell . . . Eating my innards? Eclipse? Whatever it was, it had its Vincent Price impression down pat.

I plucked my phone from the table beside the bed. In a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, I dialed.

“Ty, can you please come over?” I said.

“Give me ten minutes,” he said, and hung up.

Tyler never disappoints.

I don’t know if it was the lingering fear that kept me marooned on the mattress, or some other, simpler reason. Weak and wary, I hadn’t an ounce of energy I could devote to leaving the bed. The adrenaline rush had taken everything out of me.

“Darian,” Ty called out. His footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor. Quiet steps, not his usual elephant stomps. I didn’t answer him. Sick with shame and fear, I stayed immobile, huddled beneath the blankets.

He touched my cheek. Remnants of fear coated my mouth, and the words came thick. “Someone was here.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Not like me. Sun was already up. The thing was in the air , Ty.”

He sat down beside me. I didn’t turn to look at him; my sudden frailty was a disgrace to my nature. Embarrassment kept me from meeting his eyes.

“What happened?” His gentle voice soothed me, assuring me it was okay to be scared without having to say it out loud.

“The voice, I can’t describe it. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It touched me, and it wasn’t any tickle either.”

Tyler tugged at the covers burying my body. I resisted at first, unsure of what his next move would be. Insistent, he pulled harder, and I finally relented, too shaken up to do anything about it. As he peeled back the blankets, he examined the skin that my tank top and shorts didn’t cover. He rolled me gently from my side to my back. My eyes met his. The hazel orbs grew wide, and he sucked his breath in sharply. An angry frown marred his features.

“Welts,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Your skin is welted,” he explained, tracing a fingertip over the raised marks.

I have to say the news came as a relief. I half expected my skin to be ripped open. “I didn’t see anything; only felt a presence.” Fear was washed away by confusion. Anger approached on its heels. “When I find the creature that did this, I’m going to slice it into a million bloody pieces.”

Expressing my anger felt good, as if I were reclaiming a bit of my flagging nerve. I put my palms down on the bed, pushed myself to a sitting position, and drew my knees up a little. Closer to eye level with Tyler, I read both worry and fury in his expression. His normally cool body temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees.

“They’re only welts, right? I’ve healed from worse.”

“Yeah.” He ran his hands over the miniature roadways of raised flesh along my arm. “Do you think it has anything to do with this job you’re training for?”

He stopped stroking my arm, and though his gaze didn’t detach from mine, his hands continued with their exploration of the marks on my skin. He moved a palm under my calf, cupping the flesh before traveling up and over my shin. I shivered.

“I don’t think so,” I answered honestly. “If Xander had a creature like that in his service, he sure as hell wouldn’t need me. I quit that job, anyway. It’s a non-thing.”

“What do you mean, you quit?” His fingers traced each one of my toes. “You never quit anything.”

“I quit this,” I said. “I was starting to feel like a possession, and I don’t like that. And I still don’t know who the mark is.” I looked away, distracted by the warm, masculine scent that was one hundred percent Tyler.