Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

“Don’t speak unless you have something worth saying,” Raif snapped from near the doorway. “Repent now, Azriel, and perhaps this will end well for you.”

“This is only the beginning,” he said. “My father can’t stop it, and you can’t stop it either, Uncle . The floodgates are open. And if you think Delilah’s failure is the end of it, you’re wrong. She has more reason to hate you than I do.”

Raif shrugged, quirked a curious brow.

“Why did my father send the pair of you to deal with me?” His voice became cold, detached, hollow. “Not man enough to face me himself, I suppose. I’m insulted, actually, that he sent his servants to clean up his mess.”

Beating him wasn’t going to do any good. Keeping him captive seemed futile as well. He’d gone mad with his need for vengeance and power. A need founded from years alone, separated from his own people. I knew just how he felt. He’d done the same to me. “I’m surprised at you, Darian,” he said, spitting more blood. “This is the thanks I get for everything I did for you. You would have remained a human punching bag if it hadn’t been for me. I saved your weak and sorry ass.”

“Get out, Raif,” I said, low.

“Darian—,” he warned.

“Now. You don’t need to be party to this. Leave.”

I waited for Raif to close the door, which he did reluctantly. I’d been paid to do a job, and it was finally time to go to work. “Listen, you slimy sonofabitch. I don’t owe you a fucking thing. You got that?”

Azriel gave a crooked, swollen-lipped smile. His eyes narrowed in calculation, and that was enough to earn him a black eye. I shook out my fist, looked at the tiny cuts on my knuckles, which closed before the blood could spill over my skin.

“Delilah left you high and dry,” I said. “Your little coup failed. You’re all alone, and it’s time to settle your tab.”

“Do you want me to beg for forgiveness?” he asked, his voice turning seductive and sweet. “Is that what you want, love ?” He approached me slowly and warily, his eyes roaming hungrily over my body. “Well, it’s not going to happen. I refuse to beg him for anything!”

Jesus, I wish he’d shut up. How I’d spent twenty years in his company, I’ll never know.

“You’re still as stupid and ignorant as you ever were. You and Raif. Serving my father like his lapdogs.” He snorted in disgust. “But he’ll trip up sooner or later, and you’ll both regret your allegiance. Fools, both of you.”

At least now I knew where Azriel had gotten his dramatic tendencies; seems it ran in the family. My fingers caressed the dagger’s hilt, protruding from the sheath at my thigh, and my conscience hitched for a brief, intolerable moment.

“You can’t talk your way out of this one, Az.” I wondered what could have made him hate his father so much, what skeletons lurked in his closet. “Besides, I don’t give a shit about Xander’s kingdom. When I finish this, I’m done with him.”

Azriel laughed again; his rope was seriously unraveling. “You know, now that I think of it, I should have killed your little pet. He fell hard for you, though I don’t blame him. You are extraordinary. But you—you surpassed my expectations. Delilah knew your love for him was deep, and I doubted it. You were right—I am jealous. You certainly didn’t love me as much. How’s your true love doing, by the way? Not much of a wish granter anymore, I hear.”

I never said my moral compass pointed due north. My own skeletons needed a walk-in closet. I’d been paid, plain and simple, and I always followed through on a job. Always.

The dagger slipped from the sheath, quiet as a lover’s whisper. I choked up on the grip, the guard biting bitterly into my skin. Twenty years I’d spent with him. He’d seduced me and I’d thought I loved him. He could have been honest with me. If he’d told me the truth all those years ago and defied Xander, I would have taken his side. I would have followed him anywhere, and we might’ve been happy. Looking into the cold light of his eyes, though, I saw the truth. He wanted me dead. Me and every last person who’d wronged him. He could never be stopped or restrained or imprisoned. Raif was right. He was simply too dangerous, and I held to my standards: Never kill the innocent. I sucked in a breath, looked deep into the fathomless depths of his black eyes, and reached behind him, my face brushing his as I cut the Lyhtan hair with my dagger, freeing his hands.

“I’d rather die by your hand than live by anyone else’s,” he said, almost too low to hear. He reached for his boot, for the knife I’d seen hidden there.

Mercifully quick, I stabbed at his jugular, severed the carotid artery.

Bright crimson gushed from the wound, and the air tinged with copper. Eyes large and disbelieving, Azriel stared. He twitched, bent forward, and lurched upright. “That’s . . . my girl,” he said in a gurgling breath. The spark drained from his eyes, and he slumped to the floor.

I stumbled and found my back against the far wall. Sliding to the floor, I sat with my knees drawn up and the bloody dagger dangling from my hand. I’d always thought he was dead. And now he was. Once and for all, Azriel was gone. And my hand had dealt the blow.

Anya rounded the corner at a full sprint. She wore a canary-yellow jumpsuit in her signature leather. I wondered how much I’d have to pay her to get her into a nice pair of cotton Dockers. “What happened?” she asked, curiosity watering down her usual condescension. “I’ve never seen Raif so unsettled.”

“It didn’t go well,” I said, using the wall as leverage to push myself from the floor.

“You think?” She motioned to the door.

Three Shaedes entered, looking more afraid of me than the mangled and bloodied body lying on the floor. They skirted me by way of the opposite wall, and I did them a favor by getting the hell out of there.

Not confined to time of day, I became one with the very air and appeared at Raif’s back as he hurried toward the second flight of stairs. I drifted into my corporeal form and laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Raif, there wasn’t any other way for this to end. You know that, right?”

“Do I?” he said, taking my hand and removing it from his shoulder. “I’m not so sure. Do you think he was telling the truth in there?” He jerked his head toward the stairs. “I always knew that Azriel had designs on Xander’s throne. But more than that? ‘This is only the beginning.’ That’s what he said. I was stupid to hope that merely killing the fool would put an end to this. And, frankly, I don’t need the headache.”

“Azriel was a liar. We both know that. There’s always hope, Raif,” I said.

“Oh, really?” His jaded tone screamed hardened, battle-weary warrior. And, perhaps, grieving uncle? “Do you have hope now? You’ve been wandering around this house for weeks like some sort of damned ghost, waiting for Tyler to wake up. Is that hope? Knowing there’s not a single thing you can do for him, but staying here anyway—is that hope? Living for a dead man—is that hope? Or is it just pathetic?”

Ouch, Raif. He’d stung me with his words, but deep down I knew I wasn’t pathetic. I did have hope. I hoped that Azriel’s plans died with him. I hoped we’d have some peace and quiet for a while. And I had to hope Tyler would be okay. And as Raif’s words came back to me, my hope transformed into a plan.

“I’ll show you what hope can do.” I disappeared, and like the ghost they all thought I was, drifted up the staircase to Tyler’s room.

I burst through the door and knelt beside him, put my mouth to his ear. “Tyler, I’m not letting you leave me. I’ve been alone for too goddamned long, and I refuse to allow you to break our bond.” I’d told Delilah, disguised as Tyler, that I loved him. But had I told the real Tyler? “You said I didn’t have to love you back, but I do. I love you, damn it. I love your smile and your smell and the annoying way you follow me around. I love that you love me despite my faults, what I’ve done, and who I am. And I love that you’re not afraid of me.” I laid my lips to his temple. “I. Love. You.”