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Authors: Amanda Bonilla

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BOOK: Lost to the Gray
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“We’ll see,” I said, delighting in the fact that I could rile her. She rose to challenges so easily, I wondered what would happen if I dared her to get naked. . . . “There’s a bonus in the envelope as well. The client was impressed with your work and was thankful you were able to recover the locket the mark had stolen. Apparently it belonged to the client’s daughter. The bastard kept the locket as a souvenir after he raped her. I hope you gave him exactly what he had coming to him.”

A dark shadow snaked from her feet like an agitated viper, and I pretended not to notice. “Trust me,” she said, her tone dark. “I did.”

Though I knew her supernatural attributes made her more than capable, I couldn’t help but worry. Supernatural creatures inhabited every corner of the planet. Hell, she was standing in the presence of someone who had centuries on her. Darian didn’t have a clue. I’d gleaned enough from her memories to know that she’d been fooled into believing she was alone in the world. And that it would behoove her to keep her existence secret. I wanted to tell her the truth so badly that the words burned in my chest, fighting for a way out. But I couldn’t. I refused to drop that hammer until she was ready to accept the truth. I could protect her in her ignorance far better than I could with her out in the open. I’d give her easy jobs, human marks, and allow her to continue to live in anonymity. When I’d gained her trust, then I’d tell her the truth, and I’d help her deal with it. Until then, I’d make sure she was well protected.

“Call me when something else comes up,” she said, and turned to leave.

“I’m not quite done with you.” Not even close. “Before you go, I have something for you.” Again, that bemused half-smile tried to shine through in her expression. My chest swelled at the thought of how radiant she’d be mes she’if she let that joy shine through.

Darian’s brow shot up on her forehead. “What?”

“Relax,” I laughed. “It’s not a big deal.” Yes, it was. It was a huge deal. I pulled the ring out of my pocket, the bonding urge rising up inside of me to a fevered pitch. She turned back toward me and took a few steps closer as she inspected the shining silver object pinched between my thumb and finger like an animal sniffing for danger. Another step closer. Another. And one more until we were close enough to touch.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice quiet. Suspicious. Always so damned suspicious.

“Just a ring,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t betray the air of nonchalance I was trying to achieve. Her eyes met mine, and I couldn’t breathe. Gods, she was just too damned beautiful.

“A ring,” Darian said, flatly.

“All of my employees wear one,” I countered with a shrug. “Think of it as an ID tag. If a job goes south, the ring will identify you even if dental records can’t.” I gauged her reaction, not an ounce of fear. Foolish girl. “And if anyone happens to give you a hard time?” I shrugged a shoulder, again going for a relaxed stance. “One look at that ring, and no one will dare cross you.”

“No one would dare cross me now,” Darian said, all tough and serious. If I didn’t act, she’d leave before I could make the bond

and there was no way in hell I’d survive another week. I’d already waited it out too long, and my body was feeling the strain big time.

“Look, I know you’re tough shit, but just take it. It’s not like I’m asking you to go steady or anything, just solidifying our business agreement. Some employers hand out W-4s, I hand out rings.”

Darian cracked a grin and for a moment all I could do was stare. My heart leaped up into my goddamned throat and I didn’t waste a second, reaching out to take her hand. Touch wasn’t necessary for a binding, but I wanted my skin on hers. The need to feel the softness of her consumed me. I’d been so careful to stay under the radar, infusing the ring with small amounts of magic over the course of a few weeks so as not to arouse suspicion. But now, in the moment of binding, all bets were off. This was sanctioned magic, and I could finally open the floodgates.

The rush was unparalleled. Every particle of my being sparked to life, the essence of my soul leaching from my body as it sought her out. A chill shook me as the power within me rose up like a tidal wave, and then, the cold that had become almost unbearable, ebbed and mutated, pulsing through me in a warm glow as my soul joined with Darian’s. She couldn’t even feel it; she had no clue how profound this moment was. I felt it for both of us, and the intensity of the bond was like no other before it.

Under the cover of the binding magic, I infused the silver ring with one last burst of power as I slipped it on her thumb. I might as well have signed my own death warrant with that ring, but knowing she’d have prot
ection that exceeded anything I could offer her made my treachery worth the risk.

Chapter 4

I wanted to stay in that memory for a while longer, to relive that moment when my soul bound ite reself to Darian’s. But my goddamned cell wouldn’t stop buzzing, a reminder that I’d lost focus once again.

Fuck.

The text from Kaii was hopeful, though:
Need 2 meet. When & where?

The answer was easy: right here, right fucking now. I’d conducted business at The Pit before; no one paid any attention to who slipped in and out of the office. That was the beauty of using the bar as a front, an overabundance of activity mixed with the alcohol necessary to make people a little less observant.

I’d never met with Kaii for longer than it took to swap wire transfer numbers for information on a mark. Would I finally get to hear the voice and see the face of the mysterious Fae assassin, or would we just trade notes like middle school students? I guessed it didn’t matter. I’d swap info on notebook paper if that’s what it took to free Levi of the death marker. Failure wasn’t an option. If I had to, I was prepared to bring Merrick in on it, but calling Levi’s father was a last resort.

After an agonizing hour of pacing around my office, a knock came at the door. Without so much as an invite, Kaii strolled into the office, the Fae’s face covered, as usual, by a white balaclava. Reapers were considered outcasts, even by the Fae. Centuries ago, certain members of the Unseelie Court had been found to possess the rare ability to steal souls from unsuspecting prey. They’d been dubbed “Reapers,” but the less politically correct term was soul swallower. They kept to themselves mostly, living in isolation far from the human—and supernatural—populous. Kaii was a rare exception.

I had to admit, the Reaper’s presence was damn unsettling and only in part because I had no idea as to the assassin’s looks or gender. Tall, willowy, Kaii had a very androgynous body type for a Fae. Eyes as yellow as canary diamonds and fringed with dark lashes sparkled from behind the white hood. Since most Fae creatures were fair of face, I couldn’t discern anything about Kaii other than the fact that the Reaper’s very nature made it deadly.
Not
the sort of creature you want on your bad side. Without so much as a glance, Kaii walked right past me, set a file folder down on my desk, and settled down onto the couch. The Fae’s relaxed posture was a clear indicator that the information contained in that folder was pure gold.

Silence descended when I sat down at the desk, and not a comfortable silence by any means. Reapers weren’t the sort of creatures to let one’s guard down around. Even Jinn—or perhaps,
especially
Jinn—had reason to fear them. This particular Reaper wasn’t here for me, though, and so I focused on the file, looking over the elaborate script of Kaii’s handwriting, notes scrawled at odd angles coupled with the pictures of the marker I’d sent. Funny how the absence of any identifying marks could be the biggest identifier of all.

According to Kaii’s notes, the marker belonged to a faction of Raksasha ghouls known as the Black Death. It explained the use of the simple black disk, I supposed. According to Kaii’s intel, Raksasha weren’t exactly commonplace to Seattle—or the U.S. —so finding the one who held Levi’s marker would be easy. The names of a few clubs had been scrawled in the margins of one of the papers. I recognized a few of them: Seven, Atlas, The War Room. All three were known to be exclusive to or at least frequented by supernaturals.

“I take it the recon is on me?” I asked. Kaii simply nodded. I guessed I couldn’t expect the Fae to do
all
of the work. “Fine. Any clue whr b Any clo I’m looking for besides a random ghoul?”

Kaii sighed and pointed at the file folder, as if chiding me for not finishing my homework. From what I could tell from the notes, the marker was connected to an underground gambling ring. The markers related specifically to a sort of supernatural Russian roulette, and the game traveled around the world, never stopping in the same city for too long—which complicated the hell out things because it put me under an even more serious time crunch. When the game moved on, the markers were collected, meaning that as soon as the operation pulled out of town, Levi was toast.

“Once I ID the target, I’m going to need you to work fast,” I said as I reorganized the papers in the file. “Will that be a problem for you?”

A shake of Kaii’s head was all the answer I was going to get.

“It could be as soon as tomorrow night. Be ready.”

Kaii stood and gave a solemn nod of his . . . or her . . . head. And just like the Fae had entered, Kaii left my office without a single word spoken. It was damned creepy.

I wasn’t thrilled about doing recon. I didn’t want to chance running into Darian anywhere. Sort of takes the wind out of a guy’s sails when he makes a statement with a dramatic exit and then doesn’t actually go anywhere. Three clubs. I could cover that in a night, but would I find the action I was looking for? Plus, I wasn’t exactly a low-profile member of Seattle’s supernatural scene. Suspicions would be raised if I traipsed around the city’s hot spots looking for trouble. It was too late to get into any illegal games tonight, but I was pretty sure I could get in on tomorrow night’s action. I had the serious cash necessary for a big buy-in, and nothing was bigger than a game where the stakes were the gambler’s life.

I had just the reason to seek out a dangerous game of chance, too.

Another quick knock and my office door opened again, this time with Levi striding in to make himself at home.

“Not to be all up in your business or anything, Ty, but did I just see a fucking
Reaper
come out of here a second ago?”

“How could you tell with all of the coverings?” I asked wryly.

“How could I not tell? Damn things walk by and you feel death in the air. And don’t even get me started on those eyes. What’s the point of covering up? Those freaky yellow eyes scream
Reaper
.”

Levi had a point. Reapers caused unease wherever they went. Their presence easily agitates humans, making them uneasy, angry, depressed. I’m sure when Kaii walked through the bar, the atmosphere became more melancholy. But only Levi would have been able to discern the cause for the sudden drop in revelry. “Is everyone okay out there?” I asked, jerking my head in the direction of the door.

“One fight, and a couple of girls broke down sobbing,” Levi said with a shrug. “But other than that, not too bad. It just got real quiet for about ten minutes. As soon as the Reaper left, things got back to normal.”

“Good.”

“Ty, why was it here? You’re not doing business with a Reaper . . . are you?”

Yeah. Yeah, I was. “Just get back out there and give those girls a round on the house.”

font>

“Okay,” Levi said and slowly turned for the door. “This has nothing to do with my situation, does it?”<
font>

“Just a casual meeting, that’s all. No worries, Levi.”

Kaii was my business. Besides, what Levi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

* * *

 

Bartenders were great for gossip. Levi knew most of the city’s supernatural loudmouths. Hell, most of them hung out at The Pit nightly. So it wasn’t too hard for him to spread the word around that I’d suffered a breakup with a certain spirited, foulmouthed Shaede. Before the night was over, the rumor had morphed from a simple breakup to a dramatic, full-on public display where she dumped me flat on my ass for none other than the Shaede High King, Xander Peck. Yeah, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about that last bit. It was a little too founded in reality for my liking. I hoped that by allowing the seeds of gossip to germinate, I wasn’t nurturing a blossoming romance between the woman I loved and the man whose face I wanted to rearrange.

By the next night, the rumor mill had spread the news of my sorry, depressed state to every district in Seattle. Gods, I hoped Darian hadn’t heard any of the talk. I wanted her to think that I was fine. That leaving her hadn’t completely wrecked me. My pride wouldn’t bear the brunt of her going about her life like nothing had changed, while I moped and pined after her. When I figured the news of my depressed, desperate, near-suicidal state had reached the right ears, I set out to case the three locations the gambling ring had already hit. With any luck, someone had heard something that would set me on the right track. Otherwise, I was back at square one.

Atlas was a bust. The super-private, supernatural club was tough to get into when you
had
connections. I’d only seen the inside of the place once, as the guest of a high rolling client. Tonight, the bouncers—both shifters with the muscle to back up their threats—turned me away despite my street cred. I was down, but not out. Two more bars to go.

The War Room was equally disappointing. In fact, I was starting to doubt Kaii’s intel. A mostly human establishment, the atmosphere was as mundane as the clientele tonight. Nice place, but not what I was looking for. Polite waitstaff, great bartender, live band, and a killer Seven and Seven. Nothing about a supernatural gambling ring, though.

The last place I wanted to hang out was Seven, but it was my last chance at a solid lead. Seedy bars looked like five star establishments in comparison. I took a seat at the bar—no way was I going to get cozy in one of their specialty rooms dedicated to sin—and ordered a drink. The bartender was a Fae named Adrian. I’d seen him around once or twice, and he seemed nice enough.

“What’s the word, Ty?” he asked as he flipped the cap off an imported beer and placed it in front of me.

“Oh, you know.” I made my tone as bedraggled as possible. “Same old, same old.”

“Heard about your chick trouble. Sucks balls, man.”

That was an understatement. “Tell me about it.”

Adrian leaned in conspiratorially, his eyes wandering to the many sinful acts going on behind me. “Lots to distract a man here tonight.”

Finally, I felt liut y, I feke I might gain some ground. “I need something,” I confessed. “What did you have in mind?

“Hey,” Adrian said as if we were best friends. “I know how much it hurts, man. And to lose your girl to that royal prick, Xander Peck—” he shook his head “—well, all I gotta say is you can do better than a gold digger like that.”

Little did Adrian know that Darian had amassed a small fortune over the years. She didn’t need anyone’s money. I had to admit, the bartender’s opinion of the Shaede King elevated my opinion of him, albeit very little. This place made me feel like I needed to disinfect my entire body and burn my clothes.

“The Lust Room is hot tonight,” Adrian continued. “There are a few honeys hanging out in there that’ll make you forget about that bitch.”

Frost crept up from the base of my glass. I took a deep breath and put my anger in check. Not super-appreciative of Adrian’s insult to Darian, I had no choice but to nod in agreement. I’d started this rumor, after all. He was simply responding the way he thought I wanted him to.

“I don’t want some random piece of ass,” I said. “Darian wants money. I need a
fortune
.”

“The tables—” Adrian said, indicating the area marked as Greed.

“Don’t pay shit,” I spat. “Come on, you know I’m not going to find the payout I need here. I need something
big
.”

“Listen. . . .” Adrian looked quickly from left to right, as if making sure no one would hear. And in a supernatural bar, the chances were pretty good your neighbor could hear a pin drop over the DJ’s music. “I like you, Ty. You’re good people. You didn’t hear this from me, though, got it? Saul’s got the inside track to a high-stakes game. Won’t be in town long. Give him a call, maybe he can hook you up.”

I downed the rest of my beer in a single swallow. Time to go. “Thanks, Adrian.” I rose to leave, and the bartender gazed pointedly at my hand. Jesus, didn’t anyone just do a favor anymore? I fished a hundred dollar bill from my pocket and slid it across the bar. “Like I said, th
anks.”

“Anytime, man!” Adrian called after me. “Good luck!”

BOOK: Lost to the Gray
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