I’d listened to Azriel’s tough talk more than once over the years. Just the other night, he’d threatened Lorik’s men as casually as he’d exchange polite conversation on the weather. I mimicked his tone, letting a steeliness settle in to my words so these men would know that I meant business. I lowered my gaze, met each one of them eye to eye and never once demurred.
“She’s somebody’s girl,” Pete said, his voice a terrified whisper. He tugged on Sam’s sleeve while the other two nameless men just stared, jaws slack. “She’s gotta be. Maybe Joe Connolly, or shit, J.P. Chase. Why else would she be dressed like that and talkin’ tough like she is? It’s because she knows what her man is gonna do to us if he catches us with her!”
As Pete’s tone escalated, his face turned a lovely shade of puce. Hands trembling, he didn’t ask for his cronies’ permission before he started working at the fastenings of my chains, desperate to free me. Laughter bubbled up from my throat as he fumbled, not because I’d managed to rattle him, but for some reason I found it ironic that Pete suggested I might be Joe’s girl.
I could have told them that Joe was dead. And I might have mentioned that my lover had done the deed. But why waste my breath? We could play these games throughout the day until the sun set. It wouldn’t change anything. Or save any of their lives. So I sat, biding my time, giving Pete the opportunity to make good with whomever he supposed I belonged to. Sam scrubbed his hands across his face again as he watched Pete uncoil the chain from around me, and I smirked. I could see the doubt, the fear etched in every dirty line of his forehead.
“Worried?” I asked him.
Rather than answer, he turned away.
I shouldn’t have enjoyed watching him squirm. I’d given Sam a dose of his own medicine, and knowing I’d gained the upper hand by preying on his fear should have sickened me. Instead, I felt like I’d dispensed some form of justice. As the coil of chain loosened around me, I armed myself with the only weapon at my disposal: namely, the very chain that held me.
Pete really quit paying attention to me the moment he’d had his little epiphany. Sam, on the other hand, pointedly ignored me while he paced back and forth in front of me. As for the other two, they’d slunk away as soon as they realized Sam had actual concerns about my identity. The punishment for their wicked ways should have been divided equally among the four of them, but I would simply have to hope that after I was through with Pete and Sam, they’d stand as examples to their friends.
When the last coil of chain fell to the wooden plank beneath me, I struck. With preternatural speed I jerked a length of the heavy chain around Pete’s neck. I almost felt sorry for the guy. He didn’t see it coming. From my crouched position I spun, flinging Pete out in front of me until we both stood. Sam stopped his incessant pacing and froze in his tracks. I flashed him a cold smile as I constricted the chain around Pete’s throat. Though considerably larger, he didn’t stand a chance against me as he flailed and pulled at the chain, struggling for breath.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I whispered in his ear. “I told you I was no one to be tangled with. You shouldn’t have messed with that girl last night, Pete.”
“Wh-who a-a-re you?” Pete rasped as I pulled the chain tighter.
Azriel loved dramatics, and I could be dramatic too. “I am Vengeance.” I gave the chain one last, hard jerk, and Pete lost consciousness. His body became limp and heavy in my grasp, and I let him fall to the dock, the chain jangling as it landed with him.
I had no time to contemplate my actions. Sam had shaken himself from his dazed stupor and leveled a revolver at my face. Immortal or not, I couldn’t imagine a bullet to my head at such a close range would be an easy wound to heal from.
“You bitch!” he spat as he pulled back the hammer. “I shoulda stuck my dick in you when you were out cold and then killed you like I wanted to. But it don’t matter now. I’m gonna kill you one way or another.”
Before I could react, he pulled the trigger. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the bullet’s impact. The report of the shot rang out, followed by a thud and then utter silence. I didn’t dare open my eyes. Fear stole my breath. I didn’t feel any pain, but did that matter?
“Darian,” Azriel’s voice caressed my ears. “It’s all right, darling. Open your eyes.”
Sam lay in a heap not two feet from where I stood, blood oozing from his chest and his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Morning sunlight filtered in through a window and cast it’s glow on Azriel’s ethereal face, bathing him in an otherworldly light that made him that much more beautiful. My heart stuttered in my chest, and I exhaled in a rush, my blood coursing through my veins like fire. He’d found me. He’d saved me. Again.
I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. He stroked my hair, whispering words of comfort in my ear. “You are faster than you think,” he finally said as he pulled away. You acted too slowly, love, and it could have cost you. Next time, don’t contemplate your actions. Move quickly and strike with precision.”
I opened my mouth, though I hadn’t a clue what I was going to say. Azriel silenced me with a kiss. “You’ve had an exciting night, and an even more exciting morning, my love. Come on, I’m taking you home.”
* * *
I slept the rest of the morning and afternoon away, safe in the protection of Azriel’s embrace. Glorious night descended to banish the harsh light of day. I snuggled deep into the covers and against him until every inch of our naked bodies touched. It seemed I could never get close enough. He deposited feather-light kisses against my skin, making a trail that led from my shoulders to the back of my neck. I shivered as he moved my hair to the side, burying his nose in the curls and taking my scent into his lungs.
“I’ve spent all day standing vigil,” he murmured against my skin. “Lest you run away from me. I’m exhausted. Will you leave me again, Darian, once my eyes drift closed?”
A pang of regret shot through my chest. I should have told him what I’d intended to do. I should have taken him with me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I won’t ever leave you again. Not even for a moment.”
“Promises, promises,” he said sleepily.
“Azriel,” I said into the dark. “I’m going to go out with you again. And again. Night after night, job after job. I know you want to keep me safe, but I have to learn to protect myself. I have to develop thicker skin or I’ll go mad. I can’t stand my weakness. I refuse to live with it any longer. Do you understand?”
“You protected yourself well enough this morning,” he replied.
“But not in the end,” I said. “Not when it really mattered. You came to my rescue yet again. Please, Azriel, respect my wishes. I want you to teach me. I want to be your apprentice.”
Azriel sighed, and I smiled. He may have been exasperated, but he would never deny me anything. “Very well, my love. But remember, you asked for this. I am not responsible for what comes of it.”
“And Lorik?” I asked. “He obviously makes you nervous. You’ll allow me to come along with you for everything, right? Even when you go to see him?”
“You let me worry about Lorik,” Azriel said. “Now, close your eyes and sleep beside me. I’m tired.”
His eyes drifted closed, and within moments his breathing grew soft and even. I brushed my lips across his—so, so soft—in a kiss. Azriel was my savior. My avenging angel. And now, my teacher. We had forever, but I wondered, as my hand caressed from his shoulder to his hand where my fingers wound with his . . . would forever be long enough?
* * *
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* * *
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at the next full-length novel set in Amanda Bonilla’s fascinating Shaede world,
BLOOD BEFORE SUNRISE
Available in July 2012 in print and
e-book from Signet Eclipse.
* * *
“What are you looking at?”
I tore my gaze from the delicate curve of the dagger’s blade, my eyes drawn to Azriel’s dark, handsome face like a magnet to metal. “Nothing,” I said, though that wasn’t entirely true.
“Ever lacking patience,” he said with humor. “You’ll never make it as an assassin if you can’t wait more than a few minutes to get a job done.”
True enough, I supposed. I liked to wait about as much as I liked to be doused with gasoline and set on fire. “Lorik’s late,” I said. “It’s not like him.”
Azriel stroked his finger along my jaw, and his eyes burned with an intensity that had nothing to do with business. “It matters little to me if he shows or not. Either way, my night won’t be wasted.”
I flushed at the innuendo, knowing all too well where a jobless night would lead us. Not that I’d complain. . . .
An engine growled in the distance, followed by the squealing of tires. The Cadillac LaSalle Roadster came to a halt inches from where I stood, and the driver’s expression was full of adrenaline-infused excitement. Lorik loved flashy cars, and despite his need to lie low, he could never resist showing off. What was the point in not putting that engine and sleek body to use? He’d consider it a waste. Besides, I had a suspicion that the combination of fancy car, coupled with his pinstriped suit and fedora pulled low over his brow, made Lorik feel as if he’d just pulled a bank caper. Driving into the sunset and immortal glory would be the icing on the cake. And I’d be willing to bet a Chicago Typewriter rode shotgun to round it all out. I mean, what self-respecting gangster didn’t have a machine gun in the front seat?
“Looks like your clothes will be on for a while longer, my love.” Azriel leaned down and pressed his mouth to the pulse-point just below my ear.
I shivered at the contact, suddenly not caring whether Lorik’s life was in danger or not. Though the guy’s father did pay our bills, I supposed I could put my erotic thoughts on hold. But if he didn’t get down to business—and soon—he could rot in hell, for all I cared.
* * *
“What are you looking at?” Tyler asked again, his tone bemused when I didn’t answer him right away.
“Nothing,” I finally said as I stared at the spot near the alley where that LaSalle had come to a skidding stop all those years ago. “Not a damned thing.”
God, I hadn’t thought of that crazy Armenian in decades. He had to have been dead for a while now, if someone hadn’t managed to do the deed in his youth. Lorik had been the closest thing Azriel had to a friend. I always wondered about it, the comfortable way Azriel had with him. Usually we lay lower than low, but with Lorik, Azriel had allowed us to let our guard down a bit. Maybe I’d do some digging just for shits and giggles and find out what really happened to him after he went off the grid. Because I had so much free time on my hands these days.
My annoyance wasn’t so much about memories of Lorik—and Azriel—intruding on my thoughts, or even my lack of actual downtime. Rather, it was more about the fact that I stood at yet another dead end. It’s damn hard to catch someone who’s always one step ahead of you.
And chasing an Oracle is like chasing the wind.
I drove my katana into the scabbard at my back. Yet another close call, and the bitch had slipped right through my fingers. You wouldn’t think someone as blind as a bat could escape so easily.
But she had.
For months.
Time and again.
A discarded can nudged at my toe and I kicked it, sending it sailing down the sidewalk toward the street where it narrowly missed a parking sign. Beyond frustrated, I felt my agitation settle as a knot between my shoulder blades, and I stretched my neck from side to side in a futile effort to ease my mounting tension. Raif, my mentor and the best friend I’ve ever had, laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get her.”
Tyler took a step closer, his body touching mine in more places than appropriate for work hours. He snaked an arm around my waist as he brought me against his body, his eyes narrowing in Raif’s direction. Jeez, touchy much?
Raif shook his head. He looked to me, his expression saying, Is he for real? I raised my brows, the action as good as a shrug. I had no idea what had gotten into Tyler, but I could almost hear the predatory growl, the low rumble of a wary bear. “Relax, Jinn,” Raif said, tucking a dagger into a sheath at his side. “You look a little wound.”
“Not hardly,” Tyler said, his tone just on the edge of becoming hard. “In fact”—he lowered his face to the top of my head and nuzzled my hair—“I’m pretty damned relaxed right now.”
Again, Raif gave me a look. And again, I gave him the equivalent of a facial shrug. Hell if I knew why Tyler was acting like a high school jock facing off with the opposing quarterback. Maybe we all needed to take it down a notch and hang it up for the night.
As if he’d read my mind, Raif gave me a playful knock against the shoulder, eliciting another grumble and glare from Tyler. “I’m calling it a night. See you tomorrow?”
“You know it.” There was no way I was letting up any time soon. I’d search day and night until I found that mousy, pain-in-the-ass Oracle. “Meet me at my place.”
Raif’s brilliant blue eyes glowed against the backdrop of night as he gave Tyler a last questioning glance. He flashed one of his deadly smiles. “Tyler,” he said with a nod, his tone dry. He scattered into a dusting of shadow and left us alone in the alley.
I turned a caustic eye to Tyler. I hated it when he got all territorial on me. It made me feel like a bone—and tonight, Ty was definitely the dog. He put his lips to my forehead, ignoring my accusing glare. Apparently he didn’t think his behavior as juvenile as I did. That was saying a lot, considering Tyler had centuries on me in the age department.
Hunting a mark had never been enjoyable—exciting, sure, but also a necessity. Going out with Tyler put a whole new spin on “job perks.” As my Jinn, personal genie and sworn protector, he made it his business to have my back. But since he was my boyfriend, it was a pleasure to have him along. Although the word “boyfriend” didn’t do justice to Tyler’s role in my life, I thought he might appreciate the more modern reference. He might have had centuries on me, but he was a modern guy, through and through. I doubted a word existed to describe what Tyler was to me. More than simply my lover, and definitely more than a friend, he had captured more than just my heart over the five years I’d known him. Tyler had claimed my soul.
He’d been out combing the city with me every night this week staying out even after Raif abandoned the hunt. I guess Ty was the only person with the stamina to keep up with me. And believe me, his stamina wasn’t something I was about to grumble over anytime soon.
“We might as well call it a night too,” he said, giving me a squeeze. “I think we should try Idaho again. Maybe next week. I know a lesser Seer in Coeur d’Alene who might be tempted to shelter Delilah—for the right price.”
Idaho again. We’d already searched most of the panhandle, and I doubted another go-around would produce better results. “No,” I said, leaning into him so I could feel his muscled chest against my shoulder. “I don’t think she’s that far away. Don’t ask me why, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s staying close to home. Delilah has unfinished business, and she never struck me as a quitter.”
“Darian,” he said, his fingers stroking up my arm, “let’s go home.”
I melted against him, loving the way my name rolled off his tongue like a sacred word—or a prayer. It never took much for Ty to break down my defenses, and the thought of spending the rest of the night naked and twined around his magnificent body beat the hell out of standing on the cold, rain-drenched street for another second. He placed his lips against my neck, his tongue darting out to trace my flesh. Chills ri
ppled across my skin from the contact. Oh yeah. It was time to go home.
Side by side, we walked through the Queen Anne District just like any human couple would. Though nothing would have stopped me from becoming one with the shadows and traveling under the cover of darkness, I liked walking with Ty. As we headed down the street, the black tails of my duster floating out behind me, I was just a woman, one of thousands inhabiting the city of Seattle. It made me feel just a little less like a freak of nature, and more like the person I used to be. Night, day, dawn, or twilight—I could now pass through the world without the hindrance of being corporeal no matter the hour. I had to admit it was a nice perk, one that no other Shaede could claim, though the means to that end had been anything but pleasant. I never used to believe in ancient prophecy or rituals until I’d been the focal point of both. One attempted sacrifice and an eclipse later, and I had a whole new perspective on life.
Though months had passed since my transformation to something more than Shaede, it seemed only a matter of days. My former lover, Azriel—the one who had supposedly made me what I was in the first place—had made an alliance with the Oracle Delilah and a small army of nasty Lyhtans—violent, praying mantis–looking bastards who hold a serious grudge against any Shaede—to bring down Xander Peck, the King of the Shaede Nation. The fact that Azriel had been Xander’s son made the situation that much worse. Hungry 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. But I wasn’t randomly selected for the honor. As it turned out, I was a creature created of my own will, and my superspecial blood had been used to awaken the Enphigmalé, hideous gargoyles with a serious binge-eating problem.
When I’d first been introduced to the gargoyles by the raven-haired children who’d made me their prisoner and served as the Enphigmalé caretakers, they’d been solid stone. But one eclipse and a sip of my blood later, they’d sprung to life, hell-bent on devouring anything that crossed their path. Of the gargoyles that had made the transformation from stone to flesh, I’d killed all but a single beast. And just like the Oracle who’d orchestrated its resurrection, the Enphigmalé escaped. Azriel had been Delilah’s right-hand man, and he’d looked on as a spectator while I was almost killed. But since I was alive and well, and Azriel had gone into the shadow forever—meaning I had run my dagger across his lying, traitorous throat—it wasn’t hard to tell who’d come out on top of his little attempted coup.
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