Crave the Darkness: A Shaede Assassin Novel

by amanda bonilla

  I let myself into Xander’s house. Why not barge in? He’d barged in to my place easy enough. The usual sounds of daily hustle and bustle seemed absent as I walked past the foyer and down the long hallway to Xander’s office. I was just a little over five minutes late. Not enough to encourage his high-and-mighty reproof, but hopefully just enough to rattle his chain a bit. The king’s office door was half-closed and I walked right in, unsurprised to find him sitting as his desk, going through a stack of papers as usual. Being a monarch struck me as incredibly boring, but at least he was safe, holed up in his office. Death by paper cut didn’t seem to be a concern.

  Xander ignored me, his pen scratching against paper as he put his sweeping signature next to several red X’s. He set down the pen and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. Pushing away from the desk, he leaned back against the headrest of his chair and sighed.

  “Your immature behavior had Raif climbing the walls with worry. If you were anyone else,” Xander said, “I’d have had Dimitri fetch you. And believe me, you wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of his persuasion tactics.”

  “Raif came by every day,” I said, maybe a little too indignant. “And he escorted me to all of my hearings. It’s not like he didn’t know where I was or what was going on with me.”

  “For the past few months, perhaps. Though your presence of mind is up for debate.” Xander leaned forward, pinning me with his stare. “But before that, when you . . . disappeared, no one knew what happened to you.”

  A truth I didn’t enjoy being reminded of.

  “The Jinn wasn’t the only one affected by your disappearance. And your behavior of late is an insult to those who have cared for you and care for you still. You have been very selfish.”

  Seriously? Xander was accusing me of being selfish? In my opinion, he wrote the book on that particular subject. “Well, excuse me, Xander, for thinking of myself. But—”

  “I worried for you,” Xander cut me off. “I worried . . . you wouldn’t return. Do not, ever again, run off on your own like that. You have my entire military force at your disposal. In the future, use it.”

  Huh. A reprimand? Or something more? Xander’s tone didn’t carry its usual kingly arrogance. Instead, he sounded truly concerned. Afraid, even. Maybe I’d hurt more people than I thought, leaving like I had. I’d assumed that secrecy was key. That accomplishing my goals single-handedly showed my strength. Instead, it only made me look stupid. Heartless. Thanks, Xander, as if my guilt complex wasn’t bad enough already.

  “I appreciate your concern, Xander.” I fought for a civil tone because the sarcasm was threatening to bleed through. “In the future, I’ll remember your generous offer. But what I did had to be done without an army. It was my responsibility. And it wasn’t worth risking anyone else’s life.”

  Xander’s palm came down on the desktop with a crack as he shot up out of his chair, startling me. “Your life is not worth risking!” Fire sparked in his eyes, and he took a couple of calming breaths before sitting back down. “I would appreciate it if you took precautions the next time your responsibilities arise.” His tone became soft once again, and then he added, “Raif would appreciate it.”

  Ugh. We could go on like this for hours, and I was way too tired to go twelve rounds with him. All I needed was my assignment and then I could get the fuck out of here. “I’ll be more careful in the future,” I said through clenched teeth. “Now, what’s the job?”

  Xander frowned, a crease digging into his forehead just above the bridge of his nose. “Anya,” he said with a sigh, looking past me toward the door as if he was afraid she’d hear him. “She’s in need of protection.”

  My feet twitched, ready to turn me the hell around and take me out of Xander’s office. No way. Too much slack for me to pick up. A five-million-dollar retainer wouldn’t secure my services in this case. I’d rather eat shards of glass than protect her bony ass, and Xander knew it.

  “Before you deny me, Darian, you should know that Anya is pregnant.”

  My jaw dropped, and I was sure it hit the fucking floor. “Pregnant?” Good. God. I couldn’t imagine. Women like Anya ate their young. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “It’s rare,” Xander said. “Her child is precious to our people, and I won’t risk her or her unborn child’s safety.”

  “I’ve never seen a Shaede child before.” Well, that is, until I’d been to O Anel and beheld Raif’s daughter as a child as well as an adolescent. Time worked differently there. But in the mortal world, I’d thought Shaede children were nonexistent.

  “Our history isn’t a pleasant one,” Xander said. “Our forefather, Artis, took the brunt of his father’s prejudice, and his children suffered. The day he banished Artis’s children to the shadows, Kreighton tried to ensure that our numbers would dwindle. He meant for the Shaedes to be sterile, unable to reproduce. But thank the gods, nature survives where even the strongest magic would have us fail. Pregnancies don’t happen often, but when they do, it’s a sacred thing and the child as well as its mother is revered. It is a slap to Kreighton’s face each and every time a child is born and survives. And I am happy for each birth to deliver that blow.”

  I raised a dubious brow. “You make it sound like you did the deed yourself, Xander.”

  He met my stare with a half smile. “Would you be jealous if I had?”

  “No. But I bet Dimitri would.”

  Xander laughed. “No doubt there. Dimitri would skin a man alive for so much as a passing glance at his wife. I hate to think what he’d do to the man brave enough to lie with her.”

  “I’ve never heard the full story, you know. I only got the CliffsNotes version,” I said thoughtfully as I took a seat in front of Xander’s desk. I propped my feet up on his desktop because I knew it drove him crazy. “The story of how the Shaedes came to be.”

  “It’s a true fairy tale,” Xander said. “Maybe I’ll tuck you into bed some night and tell it to you.”

  Oh joy of joys. Xander couldn’t help but lead with his dick. I bet his brain felt neglected sometimes. “In your dreams, Xander.”

  “Nightly,” he said, his voice thick with longing.

  Time to get back to business. Xander lived for this kind of back and forth. It was all about the chase for him, and if I kept it up, I’d be giving him exactly what he wanted. “Anya,” I said, knocking the toes of my boots together. “Why does she need protecting? Can’t you just keep her locked up in the house? I’m sure Dimitri would be more than happy to watch over her.”

  “Dimitri has duties. And Anya . . .” Xander combed his fingers through the length of his golden hair. “Anya is difficult. She’s not going to be happy if we keep her under house arrest.”

  No shit. “And you think having me around is going to make her happy? Apparently you don’t realize how much we don’t get along.”

  “I don’t trust anyone else,” Xander said.

  “Raif?”

  “Really, Darian?” Xander flashed his trademark sardonic smile. “Raif isn’t a bodyguard. He’s the commander of my military, the director of security, not to mention a head of state and prince. You’re reaching.”

  Damn straight, I was. I’d rather clean Xander’s toilets than agree to what he was suggesting. “She won’t go for it,” I said.

  “She doesn’t have a choice.”

  “I don’t like being cooped up.”

  “You could have fooled me.” A shadow crept over Xander’s regal face. “You’ve been shut up in that closet you call an apartment for nearly three months.”

  Low blow. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Like I said, Darian. Everything you do is my business. This isn’t up for discussion. I need someone to watch over Anya. You’re the most capable candidate and the only person I trust to do the job adequately. Besides, you won’t be cooped up. Anya’s not a prisoner. I just need someone around to ensure her safety. I’ve paid you—well, I might add—and you accepted the terms o
f employment.”

  “You’re forgetting, Xander, in the terms set out for my employment, I said I would only follow direct orders from Raif. You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “I’m not worried. If you refuse to listen to me, Raif will give you the exact same orders. Anya needs protecting. You have been assigned that task. End of discussion.”

  I knocked my heel against Xander’s desk, hoping some dried mud clung to the heavy tread of my boot. I heard the dirt drop onto the polished surface of the king’s antique desk and felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. “What makes you think she’s in danger? It’s not like the baby is going to eat its way out of her stomach.” At least, I hoped not. Even for Anya, an Alien-style birth wouldn’t be appealing.

  Xander leaned forward, and his voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “There have been threats made.”

  Of course there had. “By who?”

  Xander shrugged his massive shoulders. “She won’t tell me.”

  “And you don’t think that’s a little suspicious?”

  “I think it’s very suspicious. But what do you expect me to do, beat the information out of her?”

  I cocked my head to the side. Couldn’t hurt.

  “You don’t give Anya enough credit, Darian.”

  I wished he’d stop saying my name. The tone carried too much possession. It didn’t appeal to my ears the way it did when Ty said it. “I think you give her too much credit, Xander.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “Enough to know I don’t like her.”

  “You don’t have to like her; you must only protect her.”

  Xander regarded me with a wantonness that set my nerves on end. As if he were a starving man and I were a ham sandwich. He made no secret of the fact that he “loved” me, though I suspected he loved the chase more than anything. No one denied Xander, except for me. If I jumped on his bed and spread my legs, he’d lose interest before the sun rose the next morning. But I wasn’t about to try out that theory. “Can’t you please ask someone else?” I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. The warm, solitary comfort of my bed beckoned to me. I wanted to go back to it and sleep until Tyler decided to come home.

  “There is no one else,” Xander said. The worried expression that overrode his lust told me he knew exactly what I’d been thinking, and it didn’t sit well with him. “The job is yours.”

  “I’m not babysitting her for the entire nine months.”

  “Twelve.”

  Twelve? Good lord. Pregnant for a year? That didn’t sound like a picnic. “I’m not going to sit and hold her hand for an entire year.”

  “You don’t have to. Only until we find out who’s threatening her and why. Once the threat is eliminated, you’ll be relieved of duty.”

  Finally, an aspect of this assignment that fit the job description. “And who will be doing the eliminating?”

  Xander grinned like he’d just given me a ten-carat diamond ring. “You, of course.”

  My lips stretched into a smile, and I thought my face would crack; it had been so long since I’d felt any kind of happiness. Funny, how taking out the bad guy can make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  Xander beamed. It was one of the few times I’d seen him truly pleased. “I’m also assigning a small task force to operate under your direction. I won’t have you working alone. It’s too dangerous.”

  If my smile got any bigger, my cheeks would explode. A task force meant manpower. Manpower meant I wouldn’t have to be secured to Anya at the hip. “I want Raif to pick the team members. And I want this task force kept to a manageable number. I don’t need an army. But when it comes down to neutralization of our mystery target, I go alone.” Assassins don’t work in groups. Kind of negates the stealth factor.

  Xander inclined his head, though his expression soured a bit. “Fine. Raif will pick the team. An intimate grouping of specialized soldiers. I don’t like the idea of you going out on your own, though, but I am aware that you can take care of yourself far better than most.”

  Damn straight. A tightness constricted my chest, and I rubbed at my sternum, the invisible fist squeezing my heart reminding me of the havoc my cavalier attitude had wreaked on my life. Dizzy and a little sick to my stomach, all I could think about was Tyler. Come home. Come home, come home, come home! The words ran a crazy loop in my mind, screaming a wish that wouldn’t come true. My pulse quickened with my anxiety, and I felt the urge to jump up out of my chair and run as fast as I could, leave my corporeal form behind and flee from the pain that threatened to drown me. I swung my legs down off Xander’s desk, prepared to do just that when the king reached out and seized me by the wrist, his grip an iron manacle demanding I stay.

  “Don’t do this, Darian.” The command was firm, but his velvet voice was warm, reassuring. “No more running. No hiding. You’re better than that. Take this hurt you feel and let it make you better. Don’t allow it to master you.”

  I swallowed down the lump rising in my throat, commanded the tears to retreat before they threatened to flow. Whether I was ready to acknowledge it or not, I knew deep down that Xander was right. I couldn’t keep running. I couldn’t hide in my apartment and let my ragged emotions take me to an even darker place than I was already.

  Xander loosened his grip, but he kept his hand right where it was. His thumb swirled in a circular pattern on my wrist, an intricate weaving of sensation that relaxed me. “Darian, I think you should move in for a while. You should be close to Raif, and you’ll need to be here for Anya as well.”

  “Okay.” My traitorous mouth let the word slip lazily from between my lips before my brain could adequately think over an answer. I didn’t want to go back to my apartment, to my bed, haunted by memories of Tyler. He promised me he’d come back. But when? He hadn’t called or sent so much as a text message to let me know where he was. To assure me that he was okay. Paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they, Darian?

  Xander tightened his grip, once again bringing me back to the present. My mind had been wandering all over the place, and he’d seen me drowning and threw out the life preserver. I pulled my hand away and he didn’t fight me, but his touch lingered. Rubbing my wrist, I tried to banish the sensation, the comfort of feeling someone else’s skin on mine.

  “I’m going to go find Raif,” I said, turning on a heel. “We’ve got details to work out and I’d rather just get straight to work.”

  “Darian,” Xander called out from behind his desk and I stopped midway through the door, not bothering to turn and face him. “I never would have left. Only a fool could walk away from you.”

  Goddamn it. I was in for a shitload of trouble.

  Chapter 4

  I found Raif in Xander’s solarium, of all places. It struck me as odd to see him so relaxed, bathed in sunlight while he ate lunch. My stomach growled, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten a proper meal in some time. I’d been more or less eating only to survive. I would’ve eaten cardboard and been satisfied with it. But the chicken piccata artfully arranged next to a pile of penne pasta and Caesar salad looked too damn good to my emerging appetite.

  “The kitchen is sending up a plate for you,” Raif said. “I figured you’d be hungry.”

  “You’re a traitor, you know that?” I asked, taking a seat across from him. “You ratted me out to your brother and sent him to my apartment.”

  “I did,” he agreed. “And I won’t apologize for it, either. You were living like some sort of shut-in. Someone needed to intervene, and you wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “But you figured I’d listen to Xander?”

  Raif stared me down. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

  Damn. He had me there. “I’m sorry,” I said. “For making you worry. Again.” Apologizing was about as pleasant as swallowing tacks, but Raif deserved it. No matter how much I hated to admit it, Xander was right. I’d been selfish.

  “Well,” Raif said, clearly as uncomfortable as I was, “let’s just ea
t and call it good. I take it Xander filled you in on your assignment?”

  The aroma of hot food hit my nostrils, and a moment later a plate was brought in and set before me. The plate was still warm and my stomach jumped to attention, the meal taking precedence over any other thought. I had half the chicken and most of the pasta stuffed down my throat by the time I brought my face up from the plate.

  “I’ve seen soldiers in the field eat with less gusto,” Raif said, picking at his own food with fastidious precision. “Hungry much?”

  “I guess I haven’t been taking care of myself,” I said, pausing only long enough to take another bite.

  “I’d say that’s pretty obvious. And just so you know, bourbon is not one of the four food groups.”

  I grimaced. Clearly my antics had crossed over into the careless idiot category and Raif had seen it firsthand. I was ashamed of my behavior, holed up in my apartment, tangled in my bedsheets for three months straight with just enough food to keep me alive and more than enough booze to kill a horse. Maturity, thy name is Darian.

  “She’ll never go for this, you know,” I said, steering the conversation back to work. “When she finds out what Xander has planned, she’ll blow a gasket.”

  “Anya doesn’t have a choice.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  Raif gave me a strange look, and I really wanted to know what the hell he was thinking. But another wave of gut-cramping hunger hit me and rather than dig into my friend’s psyche, I turned my attention to my plate.

  “You’re moving in?” Raif asked, interrupting the sound of me inhaling the rest of my meal.

  I nodded, mouth too full to answer politely.

  “For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good idea.”

  Again, a nod.

  “But not for the reason you think.”

  I looked up from my plate. Damn. Guess I’d have to talk about this. “Why do you think I’m moving in?”

  “Xander suggested you stay so you’d be close to Anya and whatever team we form to work under your direction. But he—we—thought you needed to be away from your apartment for a while.”