Amanda Bonilla - When Shadows Call

Azriel sighed, clearly disappointed. “For a moment, I thought you would actually do it. Alas, you showed the fool mercy.”

I turned, and before I could stop myself, slapped Azriel with all the strength I could muster. He grunted, not exactly in pain, but I hoped that I had at least caught him off guard. “You are stronger, faster than him! There’s no possible way he could have overpowered you. You let me believe you were unconscious when you could have stopped him at any time. . . .” the words died in my mouth, too angry and hurt to form coherent words. “You are no—”

“Ah, but I told you last night; I am no gentleman,” Azriel said, interrupting my tirade. “Besides, you obviously didn’t need me for protection.”

My body hummed with pent-up energy. Or was it anger? Both, more than likely. I tried to slow my breathing, but my chest burned with the effort. “This was a test?”

“Call it . . . a demonstration.”

My voice quavered with each word. “It was a cruel thing for you to do.”

“No.” Azriel’s tone became serious. He gripped my shoulders and locked his gaze with mine. “I promised to never treat you with cruelty. This was a lesson, Darian. One you had to learn. You are no longer a weak, susceptible human. You are Shaede, deadly and cunning. Never bow to that mortal weakness again.”

I had defended myself. I could have easily killed that man. Azriel was right. I was no longer human. No longer frail or weak or incapable of protecting myself. I was something more. Something powerful.

Shaede.

Chapter 6

We traveled back to the hotel under the cover of darkness. Nothing more than a whisper, our shadows twined and sped as the wind down the cobbled streets. I tried to hold on to my anger at Azriel for the games he’d played, but how could I when his very presence dazzled me so? After all, he’d kept to his word. He hadn’t treated me with cruelty, no matter what I’d thought at the moment. My new existence was a far cry from my human life, and he was teaching me the only way he knew how.

My mind swirled with innumerable thoughts, too many for me to give voice to any of them. Instead, I left Azriel in the main room of our suite and took my leave of him in favor of a bath. With no fear of the dark and vision just as sharp in the night as in the day, I didn’t bother to illuminate the room with anything but a single candle. Its warm glow cast beautiful shadows which danced in time with the flickering flame. And I sat, enthralled for a moment before I turned my gaze to the wide, deep bathtub. As I watched the water pour into the porcelain tub, I was reminded of the night I’d thought of ending my life. Henry had done one single thing right in our five years of marriage: he’d saved me from death so that Azriel could give me new life.

I passed my hand beneath the running water, realizing that the temperature felt so much cooler than it should. I turned the cold water knob tighter and tighter until it shut off entirely. While the water was still steaming, I stripped bare and dipped a tentative toe in what should have been scalding water. But rather than burn me, the water felt deliciously warm to my new, preternatural skin.

With a deep sigh, I sank chin-deep into the tub. How people survived before the invention of the water heater, I would never know. The warmth of the water soothed me, mingled with the shadows dancing across my skin. So engrossed in my own thoughts, and the new sensations I was still getting used to, I didn’t pay much attention when I heard the door open. The sound was little more than a sigh, and I could not be bothered to notice as I rested my neck on the high back of the claw-foot tub to let my head loll back.

Azriel’s fingers ghosted across my skin, tracing a line from my collar bone across my shoulder. My head jerked to attention, and a sudden heat flushed my body. But whether from shock or something more erotic, I did not know. I sank deeper into the water in an attempt at modesty.

“Shhh,” Azriel’s warm breath blew close to my ear. “Just relax, Darian, and let me admire you.”

“One admires with their eyes, no?” I tried to hide the nervous tremor in my voice. Pleasant chills followed the path of his fingers, so light against my skin. My breath halted in my lungs as I wondered if he could hear the frantic rhythm of my heart.

“Oh, no,” Azriel said, laying his mouth to the pulse-point beneath my ear. “I would admire you with more than just my eyes.” His tongue darted out and traced from my earlobe to the tip of my ear. “And I would worship you with my mouth.”

My lips parted in surprise, and his warm laughter in my ear caused chills to ripple from my head right down to my toes. “Darling,” he whispered. “You’re blushing.”

I tried to form a coherent thought as he placed tiny, languid kisses up and down my neck. “Sit up,” he said against my skin, “and let me wash you.”

If our behavior was sinful, I didn’t care. I only knew that I felt a rightness in the moment, and I did as he asked, pushing myself up and drawing my knees to my chest. I heard the rustle of fabric as he removed his shirt and discarded it somewhere behind him. Reaching over me, Azriel retrieved the bar of soap from the tray at the side of the tub and dipped it into the water. He worked the bar into a lather between his hands, and I stared, transfixed, as the muscles in his arms flexed with the simple motion.

I barely paid attention as he set the bar back in the tray. But when his slick, soapy hands slid across my back . . . I noticed . Azriel took his time, as if he savored every moment of contact with my flesh. Down my spine and back up again he traveled, over my shoulders and around until his fingertips brushed the swell of my breasts. He paused to lather his hands again and washed my arms with a strong downward caress, his fingertips weaving with mine where they rested at my knees before he pulled away and traveled up again, under my arms this time, grazing my breasts on either side.

Never in my entire life had I envisioned such a delicious torture. Once he’d finished with my arms, he guided first one leg, and then the other, to the rim of the tub. I sank deeper, the murky water offering me some cover, but as Azriel’s strong hands passed from each of my toes, over the arch of my foot, up my leg to my thigh, I couldn’t have cared less about something as silly as modesty.

My lips parted and my breath came heavy. He lifted my leg and gently lowered it back into the water. Heat rushed like quicksilver through my veins as he worked his way back up my body, his fingers passing slowly over each of my ribs. And a moan worked its way up my throat as his fingers meandered over the swell of my breasts. My eyes drifted shut and I allowed my head to rest against the back of the tub. I gripped the porcelain edge as if to keep me anchored to the world, lest I float away on a cloud of pleasure. Azriel plunged his soapy hands beneath the water and cupped my breasts. His thumbs grazed my nipples and I drew a sharp breath as an electric rush chased through my limbs, to my center, and settled between my legs.

“Azriel,” I whispered. “I . . . Henry never . . .” I clamped my mouth shut. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I’d never been with a man. Henry had never wanted to consummate our marriage. I was twenty-five years old, a married woman with no more carnal knowledge than a girl of thirteen. I wanted Azriel’s hands on me, craved his touch like I craved the shadows. But I neither understood my desires nor knew how to tell him what I wanted. Again his fingers brushed my nipples, but this time he lightly rolled them between his thumb and finger. I arched my back into his strong hands, desperate for more.