Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel

though. Here he was, a hell of a lot more breakable than anyone else here, and ready to throw himself in the path of danger to protect me.

I pointedly ignored my leather-clad antagonist, as well as Tyler’s manacled grip on my arm, and stared at the Shaede who’d been in my living room just the night before. “You hired me to kill . . . you?” I asked incredulously, because, well, who does that?

“Yes,” Xander answered, like that was the sanest thing in the world to do.

“Wanna fill me in as to why?”

“Would you have answered the Summons?”

I wanted to say “hell, no,” but I thought that might be something Anya would use as an excuse to skewer me, so I opted for, “Probably not.”

“But you certainly would want to meet the man face-to-face who endangered your existence?”

“I don’t like to be played with.” An answer and a threat, to an extent.

I had the distinct feeling that this guy—king, Shaede, whatever—was full of shit. There was something else; I could feel it. His story held as much water as a rusted-out bucket. If he’d merely wanted me here, the ruse he’d concocted with the fake assassination would have been enough. Why even bother to show up at my apartment later?

Tyler’s grip loosened and tightened again on my wrist like a pulse, reminding me that I wasn’t standing alone in the presence of my own kind. “My friend should leave.” I made the suggestion hoping Tyler would be regarded as inconsequential to the goings-on. All I could think about was keeping him alive and in one piece. “He delivered me, held up his part of the bargain. He should go.”

The king looked at Tyler as if he’d only just realized he was standing there. He tilted his head as if pondering the fate of the world, and with a wave of his hand said, “Fine.”

“Bullshit!” Tyler stared down the king and took a protective step in front of me. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re insane if you think I’m leaving her alone here with you.”

Xander laughed. His mocking tone did nothing more than stoke the flames of Tyler’s indignation. “Stay, go—it matters little to me. I know who you are, and don’t think it worries me in the slightest. You’re not the one I need.”

Not good. Tyler was the human in a vat of supernatural stew, and he’d seen too much already. Xander’s reaction meant whether he stayed or left, he’d be dealt with in due time. Where would he be safe? I couldn’t handle the threat inherent in the king’s tone. I had to protect him, whether it offended his tough-guy persona or not.

“Tyler, go to my place,” I whispered in his ear. “Wait for me there and don’t go anywhere else.”

“Not a chance, Darian.”

Okay, so I should have known he’d puff out his chest and beat on it. Shit.

My eyes delved into his, and I nearly lost focus on everything else around me. I could see the resolve etched on every line of his face, and I wondered how in the hell I’d get him out of here without an argument.

“Darian, I’m not leaving you unprotected,” he said in a soft but stubborn tone. “So don’t even bother.”

I repeated my request, adding a sweetly spoken “please.” Kind words from me were rare, but my feelings for Tyler made me a little more sentimental than usual. “Unless you know something I don’t, there’s no danger here. Right? So if you didn’t set me up, he’s just a regular paying customer.” I jerked my head toward the throne. “Right?” He nodded, his gaze trained on the Shaede king. I couldn’t tell if he refused to look at me because of a bruised ego or if it had more to do with asserting himself to our host. I sighed, realizing I might have to bash him over the head just to get him out of here.

A still silence fell on the warehouse, as if everyone waited for his response.

“Ty,” I said, low. “I wish you’d quit being so stubborn and leave. I’m doing this to keep you safe. I can handle myself. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

A faint stirring in the air seemed to brush against every nerve ending on my body. Tyler shuddered as if he’d felt it too, and his jaw clenched so tight I thought I heard it pop. “All right,” he finally said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. But if you don’t show up in a couple of hours, I’m coming back here to get you.”

“Fair enough,” I said. “I’ll see you then. Now go.”

He cast a warning glare in Xander’s direction before he turned his back and walked to the door. I gave the king a look of my own, as if to say, You’re a dead man if you touch him, and waited until I heard the door close and his car pull away.

“Is he your lover?” the king asked.

I pondered that question. More every day, I wished he was, but I couldn’t have a relationship with him, no matter what had happened outside the warehouse earlier. Too many variables stood in our way. “Who I take to bed is none of your business.”

I could almost see the flames shooting out of the top of Anya’s head, but I didn’t care. Now that Tyler was safely off the premises, I could talk to Xander however I damn well pleased. “So, what should I call you?” I wondered aloud, pushing her a little further. “Your Highness, King Alexander, or”—I dropped my voice a few decibels—“can I call you Xander?”

That did it. She tackled me before I could even crack a grin.

I knew she’d go for the bait. Anya’s reaction didn’t disappoint as she plowed into me and knocked me backward. I dissolved, and her face met the floor, sounding a lot like a melon dropped from a two-story balcony. Without giving her time to react, I reappeared, standing over her dazed and startled form.

I hadn’t been prepared to fight, and I was really pissed that I’d dressed up, because I couldn’t kick anything while I wore the tight white skirt. I braced my legs apart and the seams ripped, giving me movement above the knee. While I still had the upper hand, I brought my high-heeled foot up in the air and stomped down on Anya with lightning speed. She was fast and rolled to the side, but despite her best effort to evade me, my heel made contact with her leather-clad back before she vanished into mist.

Fool, Darian. You should’ve at least brought a dagger. Moreover, I longed for my saber, because even though I knew it wouldn’t kill her, I would have liked to have sliced through her midsection. She would have been laid up for a couple of days, and the mere thought made me smile.

Anya appeared behind me, and before I could turn to face her, she gave a sharp kick square to the middle of my back. I flung off the damn heels and spun like a top, swinging my fist and making contact with her jaw before she could evade the punch.

I hadn’t fought anyone so fast in a long time, and though I was certainly rusty, it came back to me in surprisingly quick degrees. A good, long exchange of jabs and kicks—on her part—followed. I could only imagine what we must have looked like—two shadows shifting and blowing in a nonexistent breeze, becoming solid only long enough to strike a blow.

Anya drew her dagger and I knew she was finally tired of dicking around. I was unarmed, and though it didn’t make for a fair fight, I would have done the exact same thing if I’d been in her position.

She took a couple of wild swings, missing me by miles. Retaliating, I turned into a wisp of nothingness, reappeared behind her, and swiped the back of my fist against her head. But I wasn’t used to fighting an equal, and she vanished and moved to the side of me before I could react. She swept the dagger in a downward motion and I heard it rip through my blouse, felt the blade slice into my skin. Blood issued from the wound and drew her attention from the fight.

Liquid fire burned from the cut, oozing down my side, and my anger blossomed into full-fledged rage. I used the opportunity to unleash the force of hate-fueled strength on her pretty face. My fist made contact and her nose popped as the cartilage broke. Blood spewed from her nostrils and splattered across my face and the once-pristine white blouse.

In an action too fast to see, I pulled back again, determined to break her jaw with the blow. As I moved to throw the punch, my progress stalled as a hand squeezed mine with such strength that my own seemed like a child’s in comparison.

Screaming, I allowed the fury to scald all the way up my throat. I wanted nothing more than to beat that high-and-mighty bitch to a pulp. I fought against the hold on me, and even though I shifted into my shadow form, the figure held me still.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, and Xander’s velvet voice spoke in my ear. “You’ve made your