Amanda Bonilla - Shaedes of Gray - A Shaede Assassin Novel

I could almost hear the rhythm of his heart increase as he devoured every inch of me with his eyes. He showed amazing restraint as I fought my own urge to reach out and run my fingers through his hair. Tonight was for Tyler as much as for my own peace of mind. I had to do something to cool the slow burn between us before it raged into a fully involved fire. I’d take care of this mystery client and slap Tyler with a dose of reality, and, hopefully, myself as well. Perfect. I’d be killing two birds with one stone.

“We’d better get going.” He breathed close to my face and ventured toward the car door.

He moved to open it for me, but since I was going all out to shake him up, I slid through the solid metal like a warm breeze and appeared in my seat, staring serenely out the window at him.

Tyler stood on the sidewalk, gaping. His hands hung limp at his side, resembling the wax figures you see in museums that depict a Cro-Magnon man.

Good. I’d gotten my point across. It took a minute for him to snap out of it, but he regained his composure and took the driver’s seat. He didn’t utter a word after that, which suited me just fine because I’m not what you’d call a conversationalist.

At five minutes to midnight, we pulled into the parking lot of an old warehouse. This place looked more like what I expected in my line of work. I suddenly longed for a nice pair of stretchy black slacks and my boots.

I was unarmed. Stupid? Maybe. Arrogant? Absolutely. But I didn’t need a blade to be deadly.

I left the car the same way I’d entered. My shadow form slid through the metal, plastic, and glass that made up the door, and I gathered myself into a solid form right outside the vehicle. I waited for Tyler with my back turned to him, to show him I wasn’t afraid.

He took my arm this time. Desire rolled off him like sweat. His fingers tightened against the gauzy fabric of my shirt, and the contact sent a thrilling pulse through my bloodstream. I kept my distance, knowing anything besides a work relationship would crash and burn. But my heart jumped in my chest every time he touched me, and I wanted more. I took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand.

But, damn, he smelled good.

Just before the warehouse entrance, he stopped. I kept walking, but he pulled me back. I recoiled and ended up face-to-face with him. His nostrils flared and he gripped my other arm, not cruelly, but with enough purpose that I could sense he was about to do something rash, spoiling all of my well-thought-out plans in the process.

“I know my timing sucks,” he said in a ragged voice, “but I have to do this.”

Even though I was substantially stronger, I let him pull me closer. He slid his hands from my arms and placed one at the small of my back. The other wound through my hair. He dipped his head to mine, his tongue tracing his bottom lip. My stomach clenched as I was hit with a longing I’d been suppressing for far too long.

“Darian.” He paused a fraction of an inch from my mouth, and my breath came heavy as I waited for him to follow through.

His mouth tasted just as delicious as I’d imagined it would, cool compared to my warmer temperature. Like a tall glass of ice water after a five-mile run. His arms tightened around me. My tongue darted inside his mouth and he returned the gesture, a moan escaping from deep within his throat. His head slanted, urgency playing out through his mouth, lips, and tongue, and his arms wrapped tight around me in a way that made me feel both protected and possessed.

The echo of footsteps on concrete made its way to my ears through the haze of desire fogging my brain. Tyler couldn’t hear it, but I could. That cooled my jets as effectively as a cold shower. I didn’t want to get caught with my pants down, as it were.

I broke from his embrace. His breathing came in ragged gasps. The spark of passion in the depths of his eyes raged. A guttural, almost growling sound bubbled up from his throat and he lunged at me, taking me once again and bending to resume where we’d left off.

“Take it easy, tiger,” I said, putting my hand on his chest, pushing him away. He tried to pull me back, but I used my real strength against him, and he might as well have struggled against a boulder. “Someone’s coming to the door.”

A trace of sanity crept back onto his face. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you.”

Thankfully, I didn’t get the opportunity to reply in kind. The door swung open, and I couldn’t believe my preternatural eyes.

Ho-ly shit.

A woman, most assuredly Shaede, greeted us, and I rolled my shoulders to release the sudden tension that had settled there. It seemed Shaedes were coming out of the woodwork like carpenter ants. Where had they come from? Surely I would have picked up on something, their scent at least, if they’d been in the city for long. Xander’s scent had stunned me from the moment I’d entered his town house. If Shaedes had been running willy-nilly through the city, I should have noticed. My lips spread into a wry smile as I looked her over. If Tyler had been worked up by me, this one should have sent him into an absolute lather.

She looked like hot sex wrapped in leather. Literally dressed from head to toe in red leather pants, boots, and a bustier, she gave the impression she’d be quite at home in a dungeon, whipping a desk jockey into submission once or twice a week. Her sleek, dark hair was pulled into a severe ponytail that sat at the topmost part of her head and cascaded down to her ass.

Tyler looked her over and his smiled faded, leaving an expression that was a strange mixture of controlled anger and shock. He placed an arm in front of me, tried to shove me behind him. “Wait,” he said, becoming serious. “Stay here. I’ll go in alone.”

Okay. I hadn’t expected such a strong reaction. Tyler’s level gaze reminded me of that of a wild animal, like a wolf protecting his mate. My nerves ratcheted up a notch as I considered my circumstances. I trusted Ty; we’d worked well together for five years. He never took money for a job that didn’t involve ridding the world of a drug dealer, flesh peddler, or worse. And, believe me, there was a whole hell of a lot “worse” out there. Something had him on edge, and I didn’t like it. He’d be an easy target for a Shaede who wanted to do him harm—badass reputation or not. For once, I was going to take the lead with a client. “Ty.” I gently pushed his arm away. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going in there.”

An exasperated sound escaped from under our hostess’s breath before she settled her gaze—which looked like she’d just scraped something unsavory off the bottom of her boot—on me.

Violet eyes, gorgeous and fringed by thick black lashes, locked with mine. Hers glowed even brighter, glittering with an adversarial edge. “You don’t look like much.” Her disgusted tone told me we wouldn’t be braiding each other’s hair at a slumber party anytime soon. “I don’t see what all the excitement is about.”

I’d pushed Xander’s talk of kings from my mind, focusing instead on the very real danger of the identity of the client who’d hired me to kill him. But now, in the presence of yet another Shaede, I wondered if I should have taken his speech so lightly.

With a curt inclination of her head, she moved aside so we could enter. Her lips stretched in a proud sneer, and she snorted, shaking her head as she walked just in front of me. I may not have been acquainted with my own kind, but that didn’t make me some unsavory outcast either. I could tell just by her bitchy swagger that this Shaede thought she was better than me. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s a snob.

The space was vast, dark, and empty, save an ornate chair at the very far end. Blue-dyed concrete floors gleamed beneath our feet, and the high beams of the trusses were crafted from large logs that had been shaved, burned, and varnished. Even the windows lining the high walls were not the industrial sort typical of a warehouse, but framed cottage style in rich wood.