Lost to the Gray (10 page)

I tried to swallow, found my mouth too dry for the simple act. A cold lump of dread congealed in the pit of my stomach, sending out icy shards that speared my composure. Almost a century ago, Azriel had helped an Armenian mob boss’s son go into hiding. Lorik sent us a postcard from every city he’d visited writing only:
Wish you were here
. And now, when the mobster’s son should have been long dead, the postcards started showing up again. Whatever mess Azriel had left for me to clean up, I had a feeling it would be an unpleasant one. The tremor stretching out from my palms to the tips of my fingers had nothing to do with a hangover. I was straight-up rattled. Damn Azriel and his secrets.
Shake it off, Darian. Jesus. It’s just paper. It’s not like those cards are going to self-destruct and blow your ass halfway across Seattle. Get a grip
.

The whine and whir of the elevator coming to life drew my focus from the table. I reached for my pillow, for the throwing knives stashed under it. I might have been wallowing in self-pity and apathy, but I didn’t fuck around when it came to unannounced guests. And nothing says “Welcome!” like a knife barreling point-over-hilt in a blur of glinting silver light. Of course, it could have been Raif again, but I didn’t take any chances.

I sat up, gathered the belt that held the six small knives and waited. I shook off the wave of anxiety threatening to pull me down to the fetal position and jacked my chin up a notch while willing my spine starch-stiff. I don’t know what I expected. A ghostly apparition of an Armenian mobster, perhaps? The intoxicating aroma of Shaede reached my nostrils long before the open elevator compartment came into sight, and I drew a knife from the holster. I knew the scent well, and though it wasn’t the specter from my past that I’d anticipated, this was one visitor I wasn’t about to entertain. Waiting, hand drawn back and ready to throw, I let my breathing slow. You need a certain stillness to throw a knife with accuracy. Stillness and patience. The elevator came to a halt, and the gate slid to one side. Heavy footfalls crossed the elevator’s threshold and I inhaled. Held my breath. Then let the knife fly.

The throw went wide and the knife buried itself to the handle in the drywall. So much for stillness and patience. God
damn
it.

“Your aim is shit,” Xander said, strolling through the living room like he had every right to be there. The King of Shaedes never let anyone forget who he was. Least of all me.

I took another knife from the holster and sent it hurling toward my mark. It glanced off the fireplace in a flash of silver, landing with a dull thud on the carpeting.
Sonofabitch
.

As if he hadn’t noticed me trying to scar his beautiful face, Xander stopped at the dining room table, idly shuffling through my mail like it was all addressed to him. My heart skipped a beat as he came across the postcards, which he flipped over, seeming to read with interest. But he discarded them as easily as he had my water bill and turned to face me. “I said you could thank me later for intervening with the PNT.” He smiled. “It’s later.”

Knife number three left my hand before I could even think through what I was doing. It bounced off the polished concrete of the kitchen countertop and came to a skidding halt on my stove.

Xander cocked a sardonic brow. “Not quite the show of appreciation I was expecting.”

“Fuck off,” I snapped. My comebacks were as bad as my aim.

Xander pivoted on a heel and changed his course for my bed. I instinctively reached for another knife before I noticed the gleam in his eyes. Butterscotch flecks glowed in molten caramel depths. He was hoping I’d throw again. It always made my day to keep Xander from getting what he wanted, and so I sheathed the knife and tucked the belt back under my pillow. I wasn’t in the mood to play his games.

“I could have left your fate in Amelia’s hands,” his tone dripped with reproof, “but you are my employee. Paid on retainer, if I’m not mistaken. And I have a job for you. I couldn’t have the PNT detaining you when you have work to do. So, my darling, whether you want to admit it or not, you owe me for convincing the council to drop the charges against you.”

“Screw you,
Your Highness
.rif" kss
frankly
, I’m not interested in doing anything for you, and I’m not moving anytime soon.”

Xander bent toward me, and I reached for my knives. I drew one of the blades from the holster—which, honestly, wasn’t long enough to do any real damage—determined to send him on his way. I may have been out of my mind to threaten a king with a weapon, but hell, I’d thrown three of the knives at him when he arrived. What’s one more offense?

I didn’t have my usual
oomph
to lend credibility to the act. Instead, I sort of held the knife out in front of me, my elbow drawn in like I had no idea how to use the thing. Fact was, I had no interest in picking a fight with Xander. I just wanted him to leave me alone so I could continue to wallow in self-pity, undisturbed.

“You look like a frightened girl, holding that knife,” Xander said. His voice was like expensive velvet: rich and luxurious. It’s his most winsome quality in my opinion. I could only imagine how many women had gladly dropped on their backs from nothing more than a few words.

Not this girl, though. “Get out,” I said, fighting to keep my voice from quavering.

He smiled. “No.”

“Xander.” My throat burned with emotion.
Jesus, Darian, get your shit together
. I held the knife up, straightened my arm. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

So fast he caught me off guard, Xander batted the knife out of my hand. It didn’t take much effort; I wasn’t holding it like I was I planning to use it. It rang as it bounced off the hardwood floor and I shrunk back into my pillow. Christ, why couldn’t he just leave me alone? I didn’t want to talk to him, or anybody else. I wanted to be
alone
.

“You
will
stop this childish behavior.
Now.
I’ve allowed you these months to mourn the loss of your Jinn. But that time is over. I have work for you and expect you to snap out of this depression and get to it.”

Xander’s words had me rankled. If I’d been feeling more like myself I would have shown him how much with my fist. I was
not
mourning the loss of Tyler. That would indicate that he wasn’t coming back. Like he’d died or something. Tears stung behind my eyes, and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to stem the traitorous flow that would betray my emotions. Tyler wouldn’t leave me. Not forever. He was coming back. He had to. If he didn’t . . . well, let’s just say I didn’t want to think about what I’d do if he stayed away for good.

“I want you cleaned up, properly dressed, and at my house in an hour.” He turned on a heel and headed for the door.

I didn’t take my eyes off his broad back as I tried to keep myself from committing an act of viol
ence. Xander’s steps grew silent, and he paused, shouting from the elevator, “Don’t make me come back here for you, Darian. It’ll be more than a cordial visit if I do.
One
hour.”

The gate slid closed with a rasping of metal, and the gears once again whirred to life, taking the Shaede King from my apartment. I guessed going back to bed was out of the question.

PRAISE FOR THE SHAEDE ASSASSIN S n" kss/div>ERIES

BY AMANDA BONILLA

Shaedes of Gray

“It is always a pleasure to discover an excellent new author and series, and Bonilla qualifies on both counts. The debut of her Shaede Assassin series features a tough yet compelling heroine. Full of fascinating characters, high-stakes intrigue, and fast-paced action, it’s a truly exhilarating adventure! Do not miss out!”

—
Romantic Times
(top pick, 4½ stars)

“Readers should be prepared for a one-of-a-kind, exciting adventure that kicks off from the first page with a heroine who truly knows how to take the lead and kick butt while she’s at it. Urban fantasy readers will want to buy this book.”

—Night Owl Reviews (top pick, 4½ stars)

“Truly transcendental as well as gritty . . . an abundance of awesome action, as well as raw romance, all wrapped up in a fast-paced story that is fresh and unparalleled.
Shaedes of Gray
is going down as one of my favorite new series, and Darian as one of my new favorite heroines of 2011.”

—Heroes and Heartbreakers

“Let me tell you, within two pages (and, no, I am not exaggerating) . . . I just KNEW I had started reading a great book by a really talented author . . . you will no doubt find it on my Favorites of 2011 list. Yes, people, it was that good.”

—Yummy Men Kick Ass Chicks

“An action-packed debut for Amanda Bonilla that will have the reader begging for more.”

—Fresh Fiction

“The main character is stoic and somewhat grouchy and I loved everything about her. Amanda Bonilla has created a brand-new series that absolutely wowed me!”

—The Romance Readers Connection (4½ stars)

“
Shaedes of Gray
was my kind of urban fantasy. I was hooked from page one, and I can’t wait for book two.”

—Urban Fantasy Investigations

Blood Before Sunrise

“Up-and-comer Bonilla adds another layer to her intriguing world, packed with treachery and hard-edged danger. Hang on. Darian’s journey looks like it’ll be a very bumpy one!”

—
Romantic Times

“Blood Before Sunrise
picks up where
Shaedes of Gray
left off and once again submerges us into the dark and dangerous world that Darian live st Dimes, s in. Set in Seattle, this noir and Machiavellian urban fantasy will have you clinging to the edge of your seat. . . . This entire book is an emotional roller-coaster ride of twists and turns that will keep you riding the edge to the end.”

—Smexy Books Romance Reviews

“Ms. Bonilla has created a world that will reach in, grab ahold of you, and take you on a wild ride. To any fantasy lover,
Blood Before Sunrise
is a must read!!”

—Night Owl Reviews (top pick)

“I waited on pins and needles for book number two in the
Shaede Assassin
series,
Blood Before Sunrise
. It did not disappoint. . . . I love that Darian is a fighter and so determined to let no man rule her. I definitely look forward to reading about her next adventure.”

—Romance Junkies

About the Author

Amanda Bonilla
lives in rural Idaho with her husband and two kids. She’s a part-time pet wrangler and a full-time sun worshipper, and she only goes out into the cold when coerced. When she’s not writing, she’s either reading or talking about her favorite books.