Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel (43 page)

BOOK: Shaedes of Gray: A Shaede Assassin Novel

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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 anytime soon. I’d search day and night until I found that mousey 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 was 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, my personal genie and sworn protector, he made it his business to have my back. But as 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 in age, 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 rippled 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 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 coat 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, though the means to that end had been anything but pleasant. I never used to believe in 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, it seemed only a matter of days. My former lover and supposed maker, Azriel, 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. A creature created by her own will and my super-special blood used to awaken the Enphigmalé, 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.”