Page 71 of Guardians of the Assassins
It was her own fault really.
She’d told them not to interfere and now they were making her suffer.
Ryder was the only one who looked conflicted, standing off to the side with his arms crossed. Nudity didn’t faze shifters, but he was the most possessive of the bunch. Though he didn’t object, he clearly was not pleased at the turn of events.
“Why?” Not that she had anything against doing as told, she just wanted to make sure there was a valid reason.
“The spell calls for blood magic, and I need access to your skin.” Shade enunciated slowly, like she was being a difficult child.
It was enough to make her want to smack him. She wasn’t shy of her body, but she’d spent her whole life hiding her marks, blending into the background. She felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. She bit back a grimace at the mention of blood magic but reached up and slowly peeled off her shirt, leaving her standing in her tank top.
When she went to remove that as well, Ward shot a glare at Shade. “That should be enough.”
If Shade was a bratty younger brother, Ward was the protective older one.
Seeing her ire, Shade smirked, his dimples flashing, but it was the twinkle in his eye that set her temper off.
A smile bloomed across her face as she sauntered down the stairs, coming to stop on the bottom step so they were of the same height. His grin wavered at her approach before disappearing, his expression turning suddenly wary. “What would Breanna think when she finds out that you tried to get her best friend naked?”
The banshee would do more than read him the riot act, then call Morgan later to tell her all about it, cackling the whole time.
Breanna had a mean streak, and Morgan loved it!
Shade blanched, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “You wouldn’t.”
“No.” She allowed that to sink in, saw the relief wash through him, then she smiled and turned toward Ryder. “But he would.”
Ryder’s grin was full of teeth, and an unholy delight burned in his eyes. The rest of the guys burst out laughing, even Ward cracking an amused smile at Shade’s discomfort.
Morgan stepped down from the last step to go around him, stopping when they were side by side. She glanced up at him andlifted a challenging brow. “Next time you want to prank me, try harder. I live with six men and a gardog that love to ambush me at any opportunity.”
Shade pursed his lips at her warning but refused to concede defeat, though he did give Loki a slanted, cautious glance. The beast was taking his role seriously and guarding them, but they both knew it was only a matter of time before the puppy returned to his old habits.
It was nearing midnight, and Morgan was suddenly exhausted. Her skin crawled with unease, something brushing against her senses, but it scampered away before she could examine it. They needed to reinforce the wards before whatever was stalking them made their move. “What’s next?”
He pulled out a small blade, less than three inches long.
Before she had time to even blink, Caedmon stood in his place, and Shade was on the ground, eating dirt at her feet, a tip of a sword at his throat.
Fuck!
She hadn’t even seen the fae move.
She touched Caedmon’s elbow, but he refused to budge, the muscles of his arms rock-hard. And damned if she wasn’t more than a little bit turned on by his prowess, then she rolled her eyes at herself.
One look at the rest of her mates was a clue that she had a type—badass warriors.
She would’ve figured out he was a mate a lot sooner if she hadn’t had her head up her own ass.
Though the rest of her mates weren’t happy as they prowled around them, they weren’t as violent, just glaring at the asshole instead of kicking the shit out of him.
“Guys, hold up.” Needing to defuse the situation, she walked around the others, knocked the sword aside, then grabbed Shade’s arm and hauled him upright. He spit out dirt, clearly pissed, but he didn’t say a word. No doubt he saw this as her fault and would be plotting ways to make her pay for it later, andshe bit back a groan at the thought. “The whole point of blood magic is that he needs my blood to cast the spell.”
Caedmon pointed his sword at the demigod, his voice a low growl. “Not him.”
Shade lifted his hands, backed away, and gestured for him to do it with a mocking lift of his eyebrows.
Caedmon gave a stiff nod, then turned toward her, hooking his sword over his shoulder as he moved. He pulled out a delicate stiletto blade, coming to a stop in front of her, and she tipped her head to the side as she studied him. “Where the hell are you storing your weapons?”
