Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

I sensed someone or something, unlike anything I’d felt before, with me. A slow burn deep inside my chest, I could almost taste the sensation, acidic on the back of my tongue. My stomach heaved, and I quelled the nausea before the bile could make its way up my throat.

I blinked my eyes, crusted with blood, and the details of the boat came better into view. Midday sun shone straight down on my face, and my eyes watered. From what I could tell, the boat was maybe fifteen feet in length, a small recreational fishing vessel with an outboard motor. Wedged between two bench seats, I was invariably drawn to the center of the craft, where the two halves met in a V. I tried to turn so I had a better view of my captors, but thanks to my bound state, I could only stare at their feet. Their voices carried, more than three, and they spoke low in a strange language resembling Latin in many ways, though I couldn’t interpret a single syllable.

Helpless, I was pressed deeper into the boat by the sun, which beat down, mocking me with the weakness its presence caused. Moments passed, and the metallic echo of lapping water turned into the hard scrape of the hull against a rocky shore. The boat came to an abrupt halt and I slammed into one of the benches, adding to my collection of bruises.

The boat was pulled higher onto the shore, and my captors stepped out. Hands, small and with thin fingers, reached over the edge, wrapping around my arms and legs. I didn’t expect the strength that lifted me like a feather from in between the benches. They dumped me unceremoniously onto the wet, sandy shore. I squinted into the light until four bodies leaned over me to block out the offending sun. The burning pressure in my chest intensified.

Two boys and two girls who appeared no older than fourteen or fifteen stood above me, studying me like I was some alien life form that landed in their backyard. Their black, feathery hair curled around their pale, cherubic faces, and their amber eyes stared at me with a trace of innocent wonder. Their strength belied their slight bodies and thin, bony arms. My hands were untied and resecured in front of me, and like a fresh kill, I was hauled through the trees and foliage toward some unknown destination and, perhaps, my death.

Chapter 25

If my captors’ strength had been surprising, then their stamina was an absolute feat. They carried me for what felt like hours, weaving their way through boulders, stepping over fallen logs, and negotiating streams. At least they were kind enough to lift me high so my head wouldn’t submerge or bang against some obstacle. I supposed they were keeping me unscathed so they could kill me properly later.

“Hey! Aren’t you late for the prom or something?” I shouted, if only to hearten myself. “Shouldn’t you be off buying acne cream? When I get out of these ropes, you’re gonna get more than a fucking time-out!” They ignored me. My world was topsy-turvy as they carried me like a hunk of meat. I dropped my head back to discern my surroundings when we entered a large clearing.

The grass appeared manicured. Like a carpet of artificial turf. Its shape reminded me of an arena. I felt a sense of reverence deep within me, and I realized we must have come to an ancient, sacred place where rituals had been held for centuries. I fought against my bonds, twisting and arching my back. The creepy adolescents moved forward, unconcerned with my struggles. A gray figure caught my eye, and I twisted my head to get a better look, noticing first the large stone feet and then the bodies of nine statues. Almost as large as mature bulls, and much more menacing, the beasts stood at attention with claws dug into low stone pedestals, as if waiting to pounce. Snarling mouths gaped wide in a silent roar. Tongues curled in frozen waves within their mouths. Gargoyles, ferocious and ghastly. They faced the clearing, bent toward its center, watching with vacant, staring eyes the size of softballs. Their batlike wings wrapped protectively toward their bodies like billowing capes, and sharp, fanglike canines jutted down from their jaws. In groups of three they spanned the clearing, leaving an opening between each grouping.

In the first of the open spaces sat a large cage, and inside paced a huge, golden-furred bear. The poor animal bellowed to the sky and thrashed its head wildly before snorting and pawing at a large metal collar secured around its neck. It took two long paces back and rammed its massive shoulder into the cage before flopping to the ground, tucking its muzzle beneath its paws.

The second space was occupied by a low stone dais. Moss grew up the sides, covering three-quarters of the table, giving it the appearance of an ornate and wonderful bed. I could picture a faerie princess sleeping there, her silver hair flowing to the green earth.

In the third space from where we’d entered the clearing stood a bower of willow branches growing up from the ground, bending over one another to construct a green, leafy archway. Like a gaping black hole that opened to nothing, it was something I could neither see through nor beyond.

My kidnappers tossed me to the ground and stepped back a few paces, and the burning sensation in my chest eased. Relief washed over me until a new sensation took its place. I found it difficult to draw a breath with the invisible Lyhtan spectators weighing down the atmosphere around me. Slowly they took form, their glistening, praying mantis bodies leaving the light, becoming solid. I’d never seen the creatures en masse to this extent. Not even by the fountain did I feel their presence as severely as I did now. Their wide smiles and drooling mouths watered in anticipation of bloodshed. Looking me over with greedy eyes, they sniffed the air with anxious noses and fought among themselves. Several of the snarling creatures left the clearing to lick their wounds. The air tasted of violence.

A breeze cleansed the awful Lyhtan smell from my nostrils and replaced it with a welcome, comforting aroma. A scent that spoke to my soul filled me with emotion I didn’t understand. My chest swelled, and I said a silent prayer of thanks, my spirits instantly bolstered.

Tyler never disappoints.

He walked into the clearing of his own free will, and my heart, which suddenly floated near my throat, dropped into the pit of my stomach.

“What’s going on?” I said, slow and disbelieving, as my brain struggled to keep up with my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, walking past my child guards to stand before me. “I had to.”

My body grew cold and I felt like I wanted to throw up. I’d been betrayed by everyone in my life. My parents when they’d dumped me on Henry. And, of course, by that same human husband, who’d used me as his personal punching bag. Even Azriel, who’d once claimed to care for me, and Xander, who’d proclaimed his desire for me, had both used me to suit their needs. But not him . God, please, not Ty. Not the one person I’d grown to trust. Not the only man on this earth I didn’t think I could live without. “You used me?” I choked on the words, forcing them past my lips. He’d professed his love, tended my wounds, and bound himself to me just so he could . . . kill me?

A dark, black hole opened in my heart, emptying a place I never realized existed. He said he loved me. No man had ever said those words to me before. I couldn’t help but remember how it felt to have his hands on my skin, caressing me, giving me pleasure. The connection, the sense of rightness between us, as if it has always been meant to be. I thought we’d joined on a level that transcended the physical. Tyler made me feel safe, protected. For the first time in my life, I’d felt complete. My soul ached from his betrayal. I rose on my knees, and Tyler ran his fingers through my tangled hair. I couldn’t bring myself to look into the hazel eyes that had so easily fooled me. Instead, I reached out and swung at him with my bound fists, catching him in the ribs. He grunted, rocking back on his heels before standing straight and taking a cautious step back.