Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

I couldn’t understand why Tyler had chosen this path. He’d known me for years. My personality hadn’t changed in that short time; I wasn’t charming or sweet or even remotely lovable. Why had he done this seemingly undoable thing? I didn’t even truly know how to break the bond. And if I could, would I want to? Tyler’s presence had begun to grow on me. I was tired of being alone, and he made me feel warm, protected, and almost normal. He’d sworn to keep me safe, but could I do the same for him? I was up to my eyeballs in danger, and I didn’t want him anywhere near it.

I couldn’t help but wonder why he’d hidden his true nature from me all this time. Did he think I’d care for him more as a hapless human? Had he worried that if I knew the truth, I’d send him away, or leave myself? I wouldn’t have—left him, that is—no matter what. Now I wondered which one of us had been enslaved.

Daybreak brought with it a drizzling, somber gray. Storm clouds hovered low over the cityscape, brushing the tops of the taller buildings, hiding them like tall turrets in a medieval kingdom. I closed the drapes over my picture window. A kingdom in any form was a grating reminder of the harsh new reality of my existence.

Raif showed up just in time to make an already bad morning worse. Dressed to blend in, he wore a pair of khaki slacks and a dress shirt. He looked ridiculous. I was so used to seeing him in his elfin getup that to me he seemed more out of place than ever. I snorted into my coffee cup and took a seat at the dining table.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he took a seat across from me.

“I’m not dead,” I said in a flat, toneless way.

“No, you’re certainly not that,” he said. “But you are feeling . . . better?”

I shrugged.

“You are to report to the king’s estate at sundown,” Raif said. “Not a minute later.”

I resisted the urge to douse his face with the hot beverage in my hand. Ty had it easy. I was the slave. “What for?”

“It doesn’t matter what for,” Raif said with a sneer. He tossed a thick manila envelope across the table. It spun twice, coming to rest by my cup. “Double your fee. I believe those were your terms. I think you’ve been paid enough now. And Alexander wants you for some . . . freelance work.”

I guessed by his attitude that Raif wasn’t exactly a morning person. I lifted a hand to my forehead and gave a crisp salute. “Yes, sir.” I would have clicked my heels together, but that would have required standing up.

Raif didn’t stick around to chitchat, but instead headed straight for the lift. “Darian,” he said as he pulled the gate shut. “Dress appropriately.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I yelled as the lift disappeared below the floor.

“Work clothes.” Raif’s voice drifted up through the shaft.

“Work clothes,” I muttered under my breath as I stalked up the winding drive to Xander’s estate. Since I was fairly certain I wasn’t being asked to Xander’s to help with the gardening, I dressed in my usual ensemble: black pants, long-sleeve black V-neck shirt, and, of course, black boots.

I looked warily at a grouping of bushes, a rustling sound causing a burst of anxiety to rush through my bloodstream. Traveling in the gray hours of twilight had left me vulnerable. I’d been considerably shaken by the Lyhtan attack, and I didn’t like being at a disadvantage. Not one tiny bit. I’d lived almost a century believing I was invincible. And now . . . now I was no more immortal than any other creature that roamed the earth.

An unusual amount of activity surrounded Xander’s house. Guards had been placed strategically at every door, balcony, and gate. The glint of steel winked from each post, reflecting the artificial glow of the floodlights that had clicked on with the last trace of gray evening. I stood by the front door, observing the many Shaedes around me, feeling the weight of their glowing stares.

“You’re late,” a bitchy voice said from behind me.

I wondered what she was wearing tonight. Black studded leather with a whip to match? “Anya,” I said, turning toward the open door. “Does PETA know about you? I mean, seriously. How many innocent cows had to die to complete your god-awful wardrobe?”

It wasn’t black studded, but it was lime green. I don’t know how she walked, let alone fought, bound up like that. She sneered and turned her back to me, leading the way. Every movement of her body resulted in a squeak or squawk of some sort, and even her gait was a little stiff. Did she realize how impractical she looked? Maybe she was planning on killing her enemies with bad fashion sense.

I wasn’t taken upstairs to Xander’s suite, but instead led into the bowels of the mansion, down a dark, wide staircase, into a vast room that looked like the type of place where war councils were held. The king sat at a long rectangular table, and to his right sat Raif. He was accompanied by eleven other Shaedes, all talking among themselves while Xander bent over a stack of papers, pen in hand.

“You’re late,” he grumbled without looking up.

Raif shot me a warning glare as if he’d already heard the sarcastic comeback I was prepared to deliver. I rolled my eyes, and in an unabashedly petulant manner, blew a strand of hair from my face.

“Your Highness,” I said, feeling utterly foolish. “My apologies.” If Xander thought I’d get down on a knee, he had another thing coming. But I did incline my head—a little.

The King of Shaedes paused in his work and looked up. A corner of his mouth tugged upward, and his eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. For that one moment he was simply Xander. But the moment was fleeting, and he returned to his stack of papers.

“Do not let it happen again,” he said, scrawling something and then setting the paper to one side.

It took a real physical effort not to roll my eyes. He was good at playing the king. I opened my mouth to speak, but caught Raif from the corner of my eye, and the slight shake of his head was good enough reason to keep silent.

Anya stood beside me like she was trying to keep me from bolting with something valuable. I so wanted to reach back and catch her in the face with my elbow, but from the looks of the seated council, they wouldn’t appreciate the show. I rocked back on my heels, inspecting the toes of my boots as if I’d never noticed them before. The only sound in the room was the scratching of Xander’s pen against the paper.

I stood there for what seemed like forever, wondering what Raif planned on using me for. A quick wish could’ve gotten me out of here in a snap, but as the thought entered my mind, I banished it. Tyler wasn’t some convenience I could use as my own personal get-out-of-jail-free card. I sighed, and it drew the attention of a couple of disdainful Shaedes. Straightening from the slumping position I’d assumed, I watched Xander with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“You’re to stay here in an official capacity tonight,” Xander said, still scratching away on his parchment. “We have several meetings throughout the week, including a Summit for the governing bodies of the Pacific Northwest Territories, and I’ll need you for that as well. As soon as we’re done here, Raif will explain your detail.”

Huh. I guess every governing body had to call itself something. It definitely had a ring to it. “Detail?” I asked.

“Yes. Security detail.” Xander set the last paper on the discarded stack and flipped them faceup before tapping them on the table to straighten them out. He handed the stack to the Shaede at his left, a dark and brooding man with a somber expression. “I think I’ve paid enough to request your services.”