Page 70 of Guardians of the Assassins
He didn’t bother to look up at her suspicious question, his focus on the pages, his brows furrowed, and he answered her absently. “No, but I believe this will work better.”
She straightened abruptly, something chilling in the way he spoke raising the hairs on the back of her neck, and her insides turned to stone.
Whatever he’d had planned wasn’t going to be pleasant.
Or it would be extremely dangerous.
Knowing Shade, it would probably be both.
The demigod took great pleasure in torturing her, much like an older brother. While at times, he would protect her fromothers, he had no compulsion about putting her in danger himself.
The asshat.
“Morgan…” Ryder captured her hand and turned her toward him. “If you don’t trust him, we can find another way.”
Morgan shoved aside her unease, cursing that Ryder was so perceptive. She flashed him a smile and couldn’t resist leaning into him a little and soaking up the fresh green scent that was just him. With a pat to his chest, she pulled away. “I very much fear we don’t have the time. I have faith Shade will do everything in his power to keep me safe. My death will release the gods back into the world, and he’s a selfish enough ass that he would do anything to stop that from happening.”
Shade shot her a murderous glare before he continued to pore over the book, muttering under his breath as he meticulously worked through the various steps of the spell. If they did one little thing wrong, magic had a way of turning on the caster.
She took comfort that keeping her alive gave him incentive enough not to fuck her over.
Because whether she liked it or not, they had no choice but trust him. Without the wards, her mates would take it upon themselves to keep her safe, and she refused to put them at risk.
Not that her men believed her bullshit.
Kincade had his arms crossed, as if trying to get her to confess all her sins at his intimidating look. She mentally rolled her eyes—she was a much harder nut to crack. Draven wasn’t much better in the way he pursed his lips and tapped his knife against his leg absently as he plotted, and she mentally made a note not to get too close to him, or he would try to use his wiles to get her to spill all her secrets.
Atlas and Caedmon stood next to one another, observing her every move, their silence making her suspicious, a stillness to them that was a little unnerving. She shook her head at the sexy image they made standing next to each other. They were complete opposites, but she knew they were a united front and would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
Ascher was the only one who appeared calm in the middle of the turmoil.
Much too calm.
She narrowed her eyes, wondering what scheme he’d concocted. While Ryder remained steadfast at her back, she refused to be lulled by it. When her safety was at risk, he was the first to snap.
Refusing to be intimidated by any of them, she gave a bright smile and a jaunty wave, then headed toward the desk. When she neared Shade, the smile dropped away, and she muttered under her breath, “You try to screw me over or hurt my mates, you’ll wish that I left you in Tartarus. Understand?”
Shade shot her an annoyed glance as he straightened. “I’m more afraid of what Breanna would do to me if she thought I upset her friend.”
Morgan beamed at his response, never imagining that he’d be so whipped. It was good for him, Breanna the perfect balance to his demigod ways. She wasn’t afraid to put him in his place when it was needed…which Morgan imagined was quite often.
Being a banshee didn’t lend to having a lot of friends, especially when you saw dead people all the time. Morgan had been surrounded by death for as long as she could remember, so it didn’t bother her a bit. She was glad the banshee was finally carving out a life for herself.
More confident, Morgan smiled at Shade. “Now that we’ve got that settled, what do we need to do?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Morgan had to fucking ask.
That had been her first mistake.
Trusting Shade had been her second.
It was the only excuse she had for finding herself in her current predicament. She stood outside on the top steps of the house, hands on her hips as she stared down at Shade, sure that she must have heard him wrong. “You want me to do what?”
“Strip.” Shade smirked, practically gleeful at her current predicament. Not that he wanted to see her naked. He just took great pleasure in her discomfort.
And her mates weren’t any help at all. The assholes just stood back, making themselves comfortable, as if settling in for a show, Draven going so far as to ask if anyone had popcorn.
