Read Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel Online

Authors: Amanda Bonilla

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Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel (12 page)

BOOK: Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel
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Raif spent the better part of six hours teaching me a painful lesson. He used every opportunity to lay his blade against my skin. I paused to survey a new gash, realizing this was punishment. I would not be permitted to speak with a loose tongue in regard to Xander again. It didn’t matter that I thought of him only as a client and didn’t regard him as king of anything. He was Raif’s king a thousand percent, and in his eyes, my king by virtue of my very existence. Let me just say that didn’t sit well with me.
I ducked as Raif’s fist swung for my face, turned and swept my leg in front of me. I managed to knock him off his feet, but he scattered in a cloud of dark air, reappearing behind me. His dagger at my throat signaled the end of another embarrassing training session.
“You’re improving,” he said. “But don’t let your head get too big just yet. You’re far from ready.” Raif inspected the tip of his dagger before sheathing it at his waist. “He’s stronger than you, faster than you, and a thousand times more deadly.”
I opened my mouth to ask the million-dollar question:
Who’s the damn mark?
But he’d vanished, leaving me alone. Again.
 
As I stood in the shower, allowing the water to cascade down my battered body, I regretted having no real confidant. Ty could have filled those shoes, but he was human and probably couldn’t relate to my unusual existence. But I needed advice, or, at the very least, an outside opinion. This
job
, if that’s what it still was, had become a little more complex than what I was used to.
I thought of Azriel. He’d been my confidant, listened to me talk for hours on end. Though he’d never answered any of my questions. I hadn’t become a proper warrior in his care, but he’d taught me stealth and how to slide a blade along a target’s throat. He’d taught me how to lie low. It’d been his idea, killing for money, though he was less discriminate as to our clientele and marks. In his opinion, we were perfectly suited for that particular line of work, and it paid well. Enough to keep us more than comfortable. He’d lined up the jobs and did most of the legwork. I’d been nothing but an apprentice, someone he brought along for amusement. Until he vanished. Then I had no one but myself to rely on. My mind wandered to one of many kills.
 
“Shh,” he whispered against my ear. “He’s nervous tonight. Knows someone’s following him. You need to wait and pick your moment.”
“He’s human,” I whispered back. “Shouldn’t be hard.”
His low laughter rumbled in his chest, making me tremble. It never took much for him to get a rise out of me. “True. But you won’t be worth a dime to anyone if you can’t do a job without remaining completely unseen. Humans can be insufferably curious. You never know who might be watching you—watching him.”
I nodded slowly, tucking a stray piece of hair up in my cap. I hated the fact that I couldn’t just wear the pants, button-up shirt, and vest, and leave my hair down. But Azriel said it would draw too much attention. Women just didn’t wear pants, and there was no way I could work in a dress.
“He’s coming this way,” he whispered.
Our mark for the night had been a poor slob who’d gotten in deep with the mob. He’d raped the bookie’s daughter and gambled a little more than he could pay back. Now his creditors were taking payment out on his hide. And I was the debt collector.
Obviously a little on the drunk side, our man stumbled and swerved, crashing against a trash can. Looking around, he opened the front of his pants and turned to the wall. Lovely. Just what I wanted: to kill the guy while he took a piss in the alley.
“Do it now,” Azriel whispered.
Melting into glorious shadow, I appeared, poised and ready, the dagger gripped firmly in my right hand. I leaned toward my mark and whispered the words I’d been paid to deliver with the death blow: “Jimmy the Shark says, ‘This is for Maggie.’ Now he’s paid in full.” My movement blurred from speed, a merciful action, I hoped, and the blade slid across his throat.
He didn’t even have time to be surprised.
“That’s my girl,” Azriel said, appearing beside me.
“Too easy,” I complained. “It’s not even interesting anymore. I want to learn how to fight, not how to sneak up on people and kill them like some kind of coward.”
Azriel’s cold laughter bounced off the brick walls of the alley.
“Have you ever fought another Shaede?” I ventured. “When there were others?”
He took the dagger from my hand and cleaned it on a rag before handing it back. “Of course. I was trained by the best. The fiercest warrior among us. No one could best me. Not even him, after a while.”
“Teach me!” I exclaimed. “Please, Az. I want to fight. I’ll do everything you say. I won’t whine. I won’t complain even a little bit. Train me.”
He laughed again. “Then you’d be deadly, indeed. Wouldn’t you?” He laid his lips to my temple. “Maybe someday, my love. Maybe someday.”
 
Of course, that someday never came. The asshole left me high and dry, and wound up dead. Or so I assumed.
The way I saw it, I helped the world with the work I did. One less drug lord meant one less supplier for the dealers. And in turn, if I managed to take out the dealer before he could entice some stupid kid into trying his product, then little Sonny might not turn out to be a junkie. Let’s face it: Criminals don’t exactly enhance society. There’s too many of the morally defunct running loose on the streets as it is. I don’t mind taking out the bad guy, but I don’t do it for free either. A girl’s gotta eat. And that’s where Azriel’s philosophy deviated from mine. He never cared who we killed. Not me. I’d never take out a housewife for her life insurance or a witness to a crime just to keep him silent. I had standards. I refused to kill an innocent. But I have no fucking problem killing a man who beats his wife and sells meth to kids. The way this crazy world works, I am far too busy. Decent people are few and far between.
Which made me wonder about Xander’s unknown target. Was
he
one of the bad guys? And in who’s opinion? The thought of servitude left a sour taste in my mouth. Whether I’d been paid or not, Xander considered me one of his subjects. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted him out of my life once and for all. I’d been seduced by the idea of what my training could do for me, the status it could bring me. What if Xander’s motives were altogether more devious? Momentarily blinded by the dollar signs I saw whenever I thought about working for the king, I needed to consider the possibility that he wouldn’t pay me for future services. Or, worse, use me and keep me as another one of his little pets. Just like Anya, bound in a sexy catsuit and purring for a bowl of milk. If Raif considered me simply another subject of his Lord and Master, wouldn’t it stand to reason that Xander considered me in the exact same light? Had he perhaps wooed me with payment for services rendered, only to jerk the rug out from under me? I had to think past the job. What about after it was done? It made me sick to think of how fast I had fallen under his spell.
I would not, under any circumstances, become a pawn. I wanted answers to the questions of my existence, and serving Xander was one way to get them. Would he give them to me? Or just continue to string me along, keeping me in the dark, just like Az? My mortal life had been out of my control. I would never again allow anyone to keep me under his thumb. Xander was just going to have to make Raif or Anya or some other idiot do his dirty work, because this girl was taking herself off the market.
I returned the katana to its mahogany case, though it pained me to do so. Next to the sword, I placed the envelopes of money Tyler had given me. Returning the money wasn’t as big as giving back the sword, but I did what I had to do. I couldn’t spend eternity being Xander’s ignorant strong arm. So I returned to the warehouse in the harsh light of day. I set the case inside the door, certain the right person would find it and return it to the king.
I expected to receive a visit from the High King himself. The sun sank into the western horizon, but he didn’t come. Night came on the heels of twilight, and still my threshold remained uncrossed. Tyler stayed away as well. I was almost positive he’d make an appearance. He didn’t.
Pensive, and maybe even a little insulted, I sulked around my own space. Where the hell
was
everyone? Xander obviously didn’t give a shit that I wasn’t interested in serving him, and Ty must have snapped out of puppy-love mode. I should have been relieved. Somehow, I wasn’t.
After resigning myself to sleep, I lay in bed, tossing and turning and tossing some more. I wasn’t used to staying in at night. I guess I didn’t go out because I expected company. Since no one cared enough to stop by, I wasn’t about to go looking for either one of them. After a few more angry tosses, I finally found a forced sleep that had about as much to do with rest as knitting had to do with swimming.
Something startled me awake. I lay unmoving to better listen, smell,
feel
the air for any distinct changes. Besides the scurrying sound of an insect across my floor, nothing betrayed who—or what—stirred me from slumber. The sound persisted; it must have been one hell of a busy bug. My eyes began to slide shut, and I allowed them to close all the way, thinking any danger was beyond me.
The sound of voices drifted to my ears sometime later. The strangest thing was not the voices, but the fact that they were all facets of the same voice. An echo of sorts, it called out to me in different tones, but spoke as if from one mouth, one throat, and one being. I would have thought I was dreaming if I hadn’t felt its breath on my face.
“Darian.”
The moment brought to mind Tyler stretched out beside me in bed, whispering my name while he stroked my hair. His words had been spoken tenderly, though, and the voice speaking my name now seethed with menace.
“Darian.”
My eyes were closed, but my senses were as sharp as the katana I wished I still had. A suffocating pressure, like being trapped under a fallen log, pressed all around me. Since my night at the warehouse, I’d come to realize that in the presence of a Shaede the air becomes palpable, dense. I felt this other creature, just as I had my newfound brethren, though the sensations were like night and day. Aside from that, I didn’t know who—or what—it was.
“Darian.” Again, my name floated to my ears, carried by myriad tiny voices melded into one. I shivered at the whispering sound and wrinkled my nose in distaste as a foul smell reached me.
“Who’s there?” I asked stupidly. I mean, it wasn’t like the disembodied voice was going to answer,
Oh, sorry. I should have introduced myself. I’m George . . .
The voice didn’t answer—what a shocker—and I slowly inched the covers from my body, readying to defend myself if the need arose. The flutter of something touching my face sent my heart hammering against my rib cage. Like the kiss of sunlight or the stirring of air, I felt the microscopic hairs on my cheek move, sending a tingle deep into my flesh.
“I’d like nothing more than to suck your innards out through your nose. I bet you taste as sweet as honey.” The words, whispered from the many-faceted voice, stretched my nerves taut, leaving a hollow ache I was desperate to escape.
“You can try,” I said, cranking up the bravado. “But maybe I’ll surprise you and make you sorry you ever stepped foot in here.” The pounding inside my chest intensified. “If you’re so goddamned tough, why don’t you show yourself?”
“Perhaps after the eclipse,” the voices sighed. “I wonder, will it change the way you taste? No harm is to come to you until then. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun with you in the meantime.”
Invisible claws, like shards of broken glass, scraped me from head to toe. I clamped my teeth together and pushed my tongue against them, determined not to cry out. I squeezed my eyes tight, feeling the moisture escape from my lids as I lay as still as possible.
The encounter lasted only seconds, though it felt like agonizing hours. By slow degrees, I unclenched my jaw, fingers and toes relaxing, followed by arms and legs, and finally my core. Again, I heard the scurrying, like mouse scratches in the wall, fading into silence.
Alone
. No one here but me, my heavy breathing, and
pain
. Lots of pain.
Early-morning sun shone in through the skylights, casting a lemon yellow glow on the white coverings of my bed. My pulse picked up its beat once again. What nature of creature could have come to me invisibly in the light of day? I wasn’t going to burst into flames if I walked outside at high noon, but I was confined to my solid self. This creature didn’t seem to share my restraints. No Shaede, that was for sure. And talk about creepy. What the hell . . . Eating my innards? Eclipse? Whatever it was, it had its Vincent Price impression down pat.
I plucked my phone from the table beside the bed. In a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, I dialed.
“Ty, can you please come over?” I said.
“Give me ten minutes,” he said, and hung up.
Tyler never disappoints.
I don’t know if it was the lingering fear that kept me marooned on the mattress, or some other, simpler reason. Weak and wary, I hadn’t an ounce of energy I could devote to leaving the bed. The adrenaline rush had taken everything out of me.
BOOK: Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel
12.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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