Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

Azriel laughed in earnest. I guess I was a regular fucking comedian. “You could have been asleep in your bed, ignorant as ever, and the change would have occurred. The eclipse was just the catalyst. That eclipse—with a little help from Fate—made you stronger. And for the trials you’ve yet to face . . . you’re going to need it.”

What a load of bullshit. Azriel was nothing more than a liar. I couldn’t trust a single word that came out of his mouth. All he was doing was buying time, cleaving to every extra minute he had on this earth. He’d told me one too many tall tales for me to believe anything he said.

“Instead of trying to pass off more of your stories as truth, shouldn’t you be worried that I might kill you right now? I could do it, you know.”

“I have no doubt,” Azriel said. “But you won’t kill me, just like I didn’t kill you. You’re too special for a paltry death.”

“Give me a break.” The effect of his dramatic flair had definitely worn off. “I can’t let you go. Not after what you’ve done.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. And after everything we’ve been through . . .”

I looked at him incredulously. “Exactly.”

“Aren’t you scared of me?” His arrogance was laughable. “It’s the gray hour, and I was once Raif’s best student.”

“What do I care about that?” I could be arrogant too. I had a right to be. “I have no more restraints, and you’re not the only one who’s spent quality time with Raif. Surrender now, and I’ll go easy on you.”

He looked to his feet, his expression contemplative. But I knew his little act was just that. Lunging toward me with immeasurable speed, he struck, his fist catching me high on my cheekbone. I spun from the impact and he used the opportunity, flinging himself from the balcony. He landed soft and soundless on the grass below.

Blood trickled from the split on my face, the skin tightening and healing instantaneously. I leapt over the railing, landed on Azriel’s back, and sent him sprawling face-first to the lawn. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest and he rolled, spinning his legs in a scissor kick, and knocked my legs out from under me. In a misty cloud of gray, I disappeared, regained my footing before he could stand, and kicked a booted foot hard into his ribs. The satisfying crack made him double over in pain.

Azriel didn’t go down without a fight. His fist made contact with my stomach, knocking the air right out of me. Gasping for a decent breath, I tried to stand tall. Without pause, he struck again, this time dagger in hand, and ran the blade along my thigh before bringing it up in a swiping motion, catching me along my hip. Inhaling lungfuls of air, I gained my wits and spun, joined with the gray twilight, and appeared at his side, my own dagger gripped tight in my right hand. A quick stab caught him just below his lung, and another made contact with the fleshy part of his side. He crumpled but continued to lash out with the weapon, catching my calf on the backswing.

“I’m done with this shit,” I said between gritted teeth. I doubled my fists, still wrapped around the dagger’s grip, and brought the pommel down on Azriel’s head. He fell to the grass at my feet, and I stomped a booted foot down onto his neck.

“Raif!” I called toward the house. “Get the fuck out here!”

“He’s secured for now,” Raif said, dark and serious.

I pushed myself from the table where I’d been pretending to eat. Xander remained in his seat, a dark look of regret marring his handsome face. He scowled and threw his fork across the dining room. It stuck in the wall just to the right of Anya’s head. It just seemed I couldn’t catch a break.

Azriel could have run. But instead he’d waltzed right into the lion’s den. He had no choice now but to face the consequences of his actions. “I want to see him.”

“I thought we’d let him stew for a while,” Raif said. “ Then we’ll pay him a visit.”

“Don’t do anything without me,” I warned, and took my leave.

The quiet dark of Tyler’s room seemed appropriate. I thought he’d like it that way, for some reason. I should’ve let the light in every once in a while, but for the life of me I couldn’t bring myself to pull the curtains aside. I wanted him back. Now. Awake and smiling and filling me with comfort I hadn’t dared to feel. Henry had left me craving affection, and Azriel had led me around by a ring in want of it. But Tyler had given it freely and without anticipation of anything in return. He’d bound himself to me, tied his life to my very existence, and had never held that fact over my head. Unconditional—that was Tyler. And when I didn’t think I was worthy of love, or contained the capacity to feel it, Tyler had taught me that I’d been wrong. I loved, deeply. I loved him.

“You know,” I said as I planted myself in a chair beside his bed, “I really want you to wake up so you can explain your little animal act to me.” I’d taken to talking to him, whether he was awake or not, hoping I could coax him from whatever held him. “Have you always been able to do that? Xander says that Jinn can change shapes, and it embodies their protection. The bear suited you. You could have saved me a lot of trouble, though, if you’d stayed in human form. Did you even think about that, Tyler? You are such an idiot!”

His wounds refused to heal, seeping blood and pus, infection pulling him closer to death every day. Rage and frustration blossomed from the pit of my stomach. I kicked the side of his bed, jostling his body. “Wake up!” I stood and leaned over him. “Wake up, damn you! Don’t be so fucking weak! Get. Up!”

“Darian,” Raif’s voice called from the doorway. “Maybe you should take a few days away from here.”

I spun around, mad as hell and ready for a fight. “He can wake up! He just won’t! Why the hell not? What did I do?”

Raif came to me and laid a comforting, albeit stiff, hand on my shoulder.

“Fuck!” I cried. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

Raif laughed quietly. “You’re feeling something,” he said. “I know you think you’re immune to such tender things, but you’re not as damn hard as you’ve convinced yourself you are.”

“I love him,” I whispered.

“Yes,” he said. “I think that’s pretty obvious. I’m going down to Azriel. Are you coming?”

I paused, looked back at Tyler’s still form on the bed.

“Let’s go.” He tilted his head toward the door. “Don’t go easy on him either.”

The corners of my mouth tugged into a reluctant smile. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t.”

Indignant and full of fire, Azriel laughed in our faces. He’d been afforded better treatment than his Lyhtan associates, given a prince’s imprisonment in a huge suite of rooms.

Though my wounds had healed since our fight, Azriel’s were still fresh. His wrists had been bound with silky strands of Lyhtan hair and tied behind him. Raif may have treated him like a prince, but he was still a dangerous prisoner. “You think this is over?” He laughed, spitting blood from his cut lip. “You think because only one of the Enphigmalé lives and the others are either dormant or dead that this is the end of it? You’re wrong.”

I didn’t need to hit him again, but I wanted to. It made me feel better to rattle his brain a little. Besides, I had a month’s worth of built-up tension to release. “That one’s for Tyler,” I said, shaking out my hand.

“The iron collar did the trick, didn’t it? Kept him locked in his animal form. He was with you all the time, and you were too stupid to see it. You actually thought Delilah was him!”

I backhanded him, nice and hard.

“Hit me again,” he said, “and again and again and again! It won’t change anything. It won’t change who or what you are! It won’t change your purpose.”