Crave the Darkness: A Shaede Assassin Novel

by amanda bonilla

  So I didn’t go easy on Asher. Or myself. I had to work my ass off to keep the upper hand, but I fought like my life depended on it. My reputation sure as hell did. Kick, jab, lunge. Elbow up. Duck and roll. Block once, twice. Over and over. And again. Incorporeal more times than not, I regained the upper hand through speed and stealth, rather than technique. A sweeping kick to his feet sent Asher to the floor, and I pinned him down with my fist to his shoulder. He bucked against me, and I increased the pressure. “Stay down, kid. We’re done.”

  Asher relaxed. In fact, he looked relieved. Thank god. I was beat to shit and tired as fuck. Asserting yourself as the alpha is hard damn work.

  “So, when do you head out for babysitting duty?” Asher asked as he toweled his face and neck. The adrenaline-infused sparkle had left his eyes, but the wild glint remained. He seemed much too young to look so haunted. I wanted to ask if I had the same look in my own eyes.

  Instead, I pressed my heels into the soft foam mat, anchoring myself in place. “Don’t you mean, when do we head out?”

  Asher didn’t even bat a lash at my words. The kid was damn near unflappable. “You sure you want to go head-to-head with Raif? Because the way I heard it, your team doesn’t have room for a fifth member.”

  “You let me worry about Raif. Be ready by noon. I want everyone assembled and prepped before we go anywhere.”

  Asher gave me a sidelong glance. “Do you want to see those bullets first?”

  “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  * * *

  I smelled like a locker room. Every inch of me was sticky with sweat and my stomach was bitching up a storm. Food and a shower would have to wait another few minutes, though. I wanted to see our hit man’s calling card.

  Off the gym in a smaller, separate space was a weapons room. Swords, guns, axes, ammo, body armor . . . everything an army would need and then some. Even custom-made and black market shit from the looks of it. What did Raif, or Xander for that matter, care about legality? The Shaede Nation considered itself a kingdom apart from human laws. They wouldn’t bat a lash at procuring some less-than-legal weaponry.

  “When Raif recovered the bullets, he hid them in here,” Asher said, moving a few boxes away from the far wall. “Put them in this safe.”

  I leaned against a counter, my fingers tracing the pattern carved into one of the axe handles. “Who else saw him do this?” Didn’t sound like Raif to be so secretive and yet not watch his back.

  Asher turned his attention to the safe. “Only me.”

  “How many have the combination?” Again, a little strange.

  “Just Raif.”

  I pushed myself away from the counter, walked toward Asher. “And you have it how . . . ?”

  Asher turned around and flashed a wicked, totally unapologetic grin. “I was in here when he hid the bullets, watched him enter the combo.”

  He punched a series of numbers into a keypad and jerked down on the heavy handle. The safe door swung open, creaking like its uses were few and far between. Raif was the slyest person I knew. No way had Asher been in the room without Raif noticing. “Call me untrusting, but I’m having a hard time swallowing that.”

  “I’m quiet,” Asher said with a shrug. The expression was easy, but his eyes were hard and guarded. “When I want to be, I’m practically invisible.” I believed it. When he’d come into the gym this morning, his footfalls had been featherlight. In fact, if not for my own heightened senses, I doubt I would have heard him at all. And, honestly, now that I thought back, I hadn’t sensed his actual physical presence until he was right on top of me. It was like he’d materialized out of thin air.

  What had been a growing curiosity about Asher was now steering toward suspicion. The young Shaede obviously had his secrets, and secrets could be dangerous. I was more determined than ever to put him on my team. If anything, so I could keep an eye on him. “You’re either smart as hell or dumb as a sack of rocks, kid. If Raif finds out you know that combo, you might as well kiss your ass good-bye.”

  Asher reached into the safe, scooped something up and held his hand out to me. “Are you going to tell him?”

  I reached out, and Asher dropped the heavy metal into my palm. “Not unless I have to. Quit spying on people, and don’t break into any more safes. Otherwise, Raif won’t get the chance to deal with you because I’ll take care of it myself. I don’t have patience for eavesdroppers or thieves. Got it?”

  Asher’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Got it.”

  I wondered how long Raif was planning to keep this little tidbit to himself? If I was supposed to find the asshole responsible, I needed all the information I could get. I picked up one of the bullets; the front had been mashed flat, the tip curling back like shredded ribbon. But the butt of the bullet was intact and completely pristine.

  Some calling card. I traced the engraving with my finger. The symbol wasn’t anything I recognized, but that didn’t mean much. A crescent moon lying like a boat, tips pointing to the sky—“It’s called a horned moon,” Asher interjected when he noticed me tracing the crescent—was wound from tip to tip by the thick body of a serpent. The artwork was intricate, with every scale of the serpent’s body etched in detail. Its eyes stared out at me, the irises speared with a vertical slash of black pupil, and the creature’s mouth gaped open to expose twin fangs jutting down from its upper jaw. I couldn’t imagine what sort of tool you’d need to engrave something so small with such precision. Quite beautiful, actually.

  “Do you know what this symbol means?”

  Asher shook his head. “I don’t think Raif does, either. He looked at it for a long time before putting it away. Might not mean anything at all.”

  I doubted that. But until I could figure it out, those bullets needed to stay right where Raif had left them. “Here.” I handed them back to Asher. “Put these away and don’t ever let me catch you pulling anything sneaky again.”

  Asher nodded, which didn’t do much to instill me with confidence. I had a feeling he didn’t want to make an outright vow not to stay out of trouble because he wasn’t sure he could. Honestly, he reminded me a little of myself, so I could hardly blame him. Trouble had a tendency to follow wherever I went. “Meet me and the rest of the team back here in an hour. And for god’s sake, lock that safe, and put everything back the way you found it!”

  It was scary how quiet Asher could be. I barely heard a rustle as he moved the boxes back into place.

  Chapter 9

  I twisted the ring on my left thumb. An unconscious act, one I usually did when something worried me. I’d been so shocked at seeing another woman in Ty’s apartment, I failed to give a passing thought to our bond. Was it still intact? And if it was, how would Tyler feel about being bound to me if he no longer loved me? He might even expect me to break our bond. My fingers traced the carved outline of the bear with tender affection and I felt the unwelcome sting of tears at my eyes.

  Damn it.

  Damn him.

  Damn her, whoever she was.

  And damn me for being foolish enough to care.

  As I approached the formal dining room, I became one with the light, opting to see the seated diners before they saw me. When I passed through the door, I let out a sigh of relief and regained my corporeal form. Empty. Hallelujah.

  My absence hadn’t gone unnoticed, however. A silver dome covered a plate right at the place I sat for the couple of meals I’d attended. At least I wasn’t going to have to spend my morning hungry. Removing the dome, I inhaled the aroma of frittata, fried potatoes, and delicate fruit tarts. Xander sure as hell didn’t scrimp on the food budget. And he didn’t eat anything that didn’t look Food Network perfect. Which suited me just fine. The most elegant breakfast I’d ever made was a bowl of cereal.

  “What happened last night?” Raif said from the doorway.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do than follow me around?” Raif’s stalker act was totally unimpressive. “Shouldn’t you be walking through the hous
e glowering at people?”

  “I think you have me mistaken for my brother,” Raif replied, leaning against the jamb. His cool demeanor raised my hackles. “He’s in quite the mood this morning. It appears he’s readying himself to defend your honor for some reason. He thinks something very bad must have happened to you. You went out yesterday?”

  I didn’t bother sitting down, just picked up a fork and started shoveling food into my mouth. “If you know I went out, why are you asking for confirmation?” I wasn’t in the mood to discuss what happened yesterday with Raif or anyone else. “Since when am I under house arrest, anyway? It’s Anya you have to worry about, not me.” Raif quirked a brow and I thought, for a second, about throwing my fork at him. “It’s none of your business.”

  “True.” He folded his arms in front of his chest, hunkering down for a standoff.

  “So, drop it.”

  He answered me with silence, but his blue eyes looked straight into my soul. I hated that he knew me well enough to see through me. “What’s on the agenda for today? Anya said she has some kind of appointment.”

  Silence. And that goddamned stare.

  I shoved enough frittata into my mouth to choke a horse. I figured Raif wouldn’t expect me to talk if it was almost too full to actually chew. I managed to swallow without suffocating, and I met Raif’s stare head-on before popping in a few potatoes to join the frittata.

  “Quit staring at me!” I didn’t quite yell, but I wanted to. I chugged a glass of orange juice and popped an entire tart into my mouth. I bet I looked just fetching, stuffing my face like I was. Ignoring my uncouth behavior, Raif only looked at me as if he already knew what had happened and just needed verbal confirmation.

  I cleared my throat and tried to lend an apathetic air to my words. “Tyler’s back.” My gaze dropped to the polished surface of Xander’s antique table, and I fought like hell to keep the tears at bay. “He didn’t come home alone.”

  “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. . . .” Even Raif didn’t sound convinced.

  “Like what?” I snorted. “She’s his long-lost sister? Cousin? Niece?”

  Raif shrugged as if to say, Could be.

  “A drop-dead gorgeous, supermodel cousin. Yeah, sure. Believe me, Raif, she wasn’t family, and she’s way out of my league.”

  But not Ty’s, obviously. He’d finally met someone better. Beautiful. I’d always thought Tyler deserved a softer woman than me. And he found her. Boy, did he find her. A goddess made of luscious curves, a cherubic mouth, liquid shimmering eyes, and feminine delicacy. For the first time in my life, I found that I was jealous of a woman for being . . . womanly.

  “I have a hard time believing he would treat you so carelessly.” Raif pushed himself off the jamb and rubbed the back of his neck. “But it does explain Xander’s gallant mood this morning.”

  Please. The last thing I needed was the King of Egocentric Bullshit coming to my rescue. “Yeah, well, he spies on me more than you do.”

  Raif’s brow regained its curious arch, but he could just keep on wondering. The goings-on in my room last night were none of his business and that was one stand-off I would sure as hell win. “He left the food for you,” Raif said and jutted his chin toward my now empty plate.

  Wasn’t that big of him. The only thing anybody gave a shit about around here was whether or not I’d eaten. I felt like a fattened calf being prepared for the slaughter. “Are we through discussing my love life so we can get to work? Or do you want to braid my hair while I tell you the rest?”

  “Anya has a meeting with Dylan McBride this afternoon to discuss some business matters pertinent to the Crown.” Guess the comment about braiding my hair had done the trick. “Dylan’s office has top-notch security, but what I’m concerned about is getting her from point A to point B.”

  That was a given, considering someone had shot her car to shit the last time she’d gone out. “What are we talking, a full-on motorcade? Or are we keeping this nice and intimate?”

  “Low-key. One vehicle, with an unmarked escort following.”

  “And why would that be?” I left the door open for him to volunteer the information about the bullets.

  “Someone opened fire on her Mercedes last week.”

  At least Raif had come clean to me. Though I knew there shouldn’t have been any doubt. Raif would never keep secrets from me that would prevent me from doing my job. “Ballistics?”

  “A fifty-caliber bullet with a strange marking etched on the casing. Whoever shot at her knew the car was armored.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “I’ll get you detailed photos of the etchings. I have some people looking into it. Could be relevant to nothing at all.”

  I doubted that. Assassins loved calling cards. In an anonymous business, it was the only thing that made us real. Unlike my brethren, though, I never left a calling card. I liked being invisible too much for notoriety. “I have someone who might be able to identify it.” Levi, the part-time bartender at The Pit, was a supernatural encyclopedia. For a few—or rather a few hundred—bucks he could answer almost any question. I didn’t want to use him unless it was absolutely necessary, though. And if Raif was stumped, it was necessary.

  “I’ll let you know if we need to bring someone else in on it.” Raif liked to play things close to the hip. “I’d rather not involve outsiders at this point.”

  Outsiders being anyone who didn’t live within Xander’s walls. “Fair enough. When should I be ready to leave?”

  “No later than one thirty.”

  Perfect. I’d told Asher to meet me and the rest of the team at noon. That gave me plenty of time to lay out a game plan. “You’ll provide the cars?”

  “They’ll be parked out front.”

  “One more thing.” I wasn’t sure how Raif would react to me adding Asher to my team. I hoped to hell he wouldn’t blow a gasket. “I told you that I wanted Asher, and I haven’t changed my mind. I’m taking him with us.”

  “So, you think you’re able to make that sort of decision, do you?”

  The flat, dark edge to Raif’s voice told me he sure as hell wasn’t happy. “Look, the kid can fight. He’s smart, too. And”—I chewed my bottom lip, trying to find the words to convince him—“yeah, I know, he’s one of Xander’s, not yours, and you think he might be a little untrustworthy, blah, blah, whatever. But I think we need him. Don’t ask me why, my gut’s just telling me I need him with me.”

  I tossed my fork down onto the plate, for some reason perversely satisfied at the loud clang disrupting the quiet. I pointedly ignored Raif’s hawkish gaze, letting the sound of silver on porcelain distract me. Shit. He was going to shut me down. It was written all over his face. So I didn’t give him the chance. He couldn’t deny me if I wasn’t here to listen.

  “Where are you going?” Raif asked as I slipped past him and out into the hallway.

  “You need to get a new hobby, Raif,” I said over my shoulder. “Because if you don’t stop breathing down my neck, I’m not going to like you so much anymore. I’m taking Asher.”

  By his derisive snort, followed by a low chuckle, I knew he was willing to risk it.

  * * *

  After a screaming-hot shower, I changed into my signature black. The shower hadn’t done much to revitalize me, but at least I didn’t smell anymore. My body wasn’t happy with me; I’d thrown it into patterns of sleep and malnutrition and then shocked it back to life with gourmet food and insomnia. If I was going to retain any shred of sanity, I was going to have to find balance. Soon.

  I strapped my katana to my back and sheathed the dagger at my thigh. I reached for my duster but reconsidered. Long, flapping tails and loose sleeves weren’t conducive to close-range fighting, and I needed to be as unhindered as possible if anything sketchy went down. I cracked each of my knuckles, lifted my arms to the sky, and stretched. Was I ready to take responsibility for someone’s safety? I usually took lives; I wasn’t in the business of saving them.
>
  My cell phone vibrated on the dresser, an annoying pulse that set my teeth on edge. I grabbed it, checked the caller ID, and my heart took a nosedive right into my gut: TYLER. Fingers twitchy to answer, I held the phone in my palm and stared at the digital screen. I wanted to answer. I needed to hear his voice, to know in his tone if he’d truly fallen out of love with me. But my pride clamped down tight on my emotions and prevented me from doing what I longed to do. Instead of answering, I shoved the phone in my back pocket and left well enough alone. I didn’t need to hear his apologies, his heartfelt well wishes, his lamentations that things hadn’t worked out between us.

  I waited for the buzzing to start up again, like it always did when I didn’t answer. The silence that stretched out for what seemed like forever both frightened and disappointed me. I should’ve answered. Just to hear his voice. No matter how painful it might have been. And honestly, without even a voice mail, I had no reason to call him back. Damn my stubbornness. Now I’d never know why he’d called. What he’d intended to say.

  As I whispered through the hallways, a breath of air toward the gym, I focused on the task at hand. No room for personal demons and emotions while Anya—and her unborn child—needed me on high alert. I tucked that excess baggage deep down inside of me, turned off everything but the hard, coldhearted bitch Azriel had taught me to be. I guess he’d been good for something after all. The sound of low voices coupled with the dull clink of metal on metal greeted me as I took corporeal form and entered the armory off the gym. Asher and the rest of the team had assembled, and they were arming themselves for battle.

  “Check it,” Julian said, flashing the pair of guns clutched in his fists. “I modified the clips. Homemade ammo, too. Totally badass. Don’t think I’m going to share the secret, either. You want custom shit, get creative and make it yourself.”