Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel

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.