Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel

for power, he’d had designs on Xander’s crown for centuries. And he’d been willing to do anything to get it. I’d been the pawn in their little power struggle. A creature created by her own will and my super-special blood used to awaken the Enphigmale, hideous gargoyles with a serious binge- eating problem. But since I was alive and well, and Azriel had gone into the shadow forever—meaning, I ran my dagger across his lying, traitorous throat—it wasn’t hard to tell who’d come out on top in his little coup.

Delilah had been the one loose end I’d failed to tie up—so far. According to Azriel, she’d had more reason to hate Shaedes than anyone, though for the life of me, I couldn’t guess why. She’d proved to be more slippery than I’d given her credit for, however. And that was a sharp thorn in my side.

Night wrapped me in its warm embrace, tickling my senses. I grabbed on to Tyler’s hand as we continued walking at a steady pace. I liked the feeling of being real, substantial and not just a whisper of something too foreign for even preternatural creatures to comprehend. The glorious anonymity of my life prior to my transformation was gone. Up until several months ago, I’d thought I was the only Shaede in existence. Part of Azriel’s lie to keep me good and hidden. It’s hard to hide under the cover of darkness when shadows are watching, though. Alexander Peck—Shaede High King, or to me, just plain Xander—had been watching me for a while. Once he plucked me from obscurity, there was no going back.

Splinters of muted silver moonlight shone between the taller buildings, casting shadows on the rugged, handsome lines of Tyler’s model-worthy face. My pace slowed and I released his hand as a strange urge pulled at my center. Turn here, intuition called and, as if I had no control over my limbs, I obeyed.

“Darian?” Tyler said. “What’s up?”

I ignored his question, my mind too focused to answer. My legs followed a path down an abandoned side street, the stench of ripe garbage wafting from a nearby Dumpster. Clearing my mind of conscious thought, I moved on instinct alone, allowing the strange feeling to guide me past a fire escape toward a gaping door where the street dead-ended.

“Darian!” Tyler’s tone sharpened as something close to a growl rumbled in the lone word. A warning. He was my bound Jinn, a mystical protector, and his Spidey sense must have been tingling. I held up a hand to quiet him as much as to reassure him. I wasn’t in any danger. At least, not yet.

I walked through the opening, surprised to find a storage space large enough to park a car in. From the look of it—not to mention the stale smell—no one had used the space for a while. Through the dark I perceived the presence of another, and the feeling in my stomach tugged lower, like a rope drawing me to the floor. Squatting down, I roved the space with my eyes, grateful for the ability to see through the dark, marking a path of dirty blankets and discarded food containers. And at the end of it all, a body sat huddled in the corner, knees tucked up and head hidden beneath thin, bony arms.

“Hello, Delilah,” I said. “I’ve been looking for you.”