Academy of Assassins

by Stacey Brutger

  He lifted his hand and gave her the finger, then quickly ducked behind the boxes with his mates.

  Both sides of the shelving erupted in giggles.

  “We’re sitting ducks down here. We need to head up.” She peered at Draven, and he backed up a step, as if reading something in her expression. Morgan smiled grimly. “How do you feel about being bait?”

  He grimaced, then glanced up at the top of the shelving thirty feet in the air. “Better than I feel about being an acrobat. You’re faster than I am, more flexible.”

  Morgan sheathed her weapon. When she went to retrieve the one that had fallen, he grabbed her arm. “No undue risks. Don’t let them draw you away. Yell if you get into trouble.”

  “Understood. Go. I’ll let them follow you, then climb.”

  Ryder hesitated a moment longer, clearly not wanting to leave her alone, then huffed out a resigned sigh. “Kincade is going to kill me.”

  With that cryptic remark, he turned on his heel and ran down the aisle, whistling a jaunty tune. While a few remained behind to watch her, the majority clearly saw her as no threat, and clambered across the boxes in pursuit.

  Not wasting a second, Morgan leapt up, grabbed the edge of the third shelf and began to climb. Angry chittering erupted above her, and she spotted four gremlins arguing, appearing distress when she didn’t collapse on the floor, weeping in terror at the sight of them.

  When they fell silent, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She leaned back to get a good look at them, unnerved to find the four of them staring down at her with yellowish eyes and malicious smiles that didn’t bode well.

  Two clambered down, one lashing out at Morgan’s hands and arms, aiming his claws for her face, while the other one dove for her legs. She swung at the one trying to gouge out her eyeballs, but it scampered out of arm’s reach. The second one latched onto her legs like a deranged monkey, using his teeth and claws to gnaw at her leathers like she was his own personal chew toy.

  “Son of a bitch.” Pain shot up her leg as he began to shake his head, his teeth sawing back and forth, and she wondered if the little beast was trying to tear out a hunk of her flesh or rip her leg off altogether.

  Not to be outdone, the first gremlin lunged for her face. Morgan swatted the claws away, and nearly lost her balance in the process.

  All the while, the two remaining on top ripped open the boxes and began lobbing metal spoons at her, one going so far as to bean her on the head when she didn’t dodge fast enough.

  “Enough.”

  She never realized something so small could bedevil her so much.

  She reached out, ignoring the claws digging into the fleshy part of her hand, snagged the toothpick-like leg of the nearest gremlin and flung the creature as far as she could. The gremlin gave a scream of anger as he flew through the air before splatting across the floor, leaving a black smear behind him, his little body ending up a twisted mess.

  Then, to her consternation, he lumbered to his feet and limped off, dragging his damaged leg behind him, leaving a trail of dark ooze.

  The monster on her leg gave a scream of rage and renewed his attack.

  “Get.” She brought up her leg and slammed the creature into one of the metal posts. “Off.”

  Slam.

  “Me!”

  The critter clanged against the metal like a gong, then dropped like a rock to the ground, landing with a surprisingly solid thud for something so small. He turned and hissed at her with evil eyes, quickly dragging himself under the shelving, and Morgan couldn’t help but shiver at the malice.

  And received another bash across the back of her head, reminding her she still wasn’t alone. As she reached the top, one leaned over and screamed, the high-pitched sound threatening to make her ears bleed.

  Not to be outdone, Morgan screamed back at him in frustration.

  The gremlin was so startled, his mouth snapped shut, and he staggered back, hastily covering his ears.

  Of course.

  Their large ears meant they were sensitive to even the slightest noise.

  Morgan snatched at the next spoon aimed for her head and beat it against the metal. The creatures cowered, grabbed their ears, twisting away to escape. In seconds, they turned tail and ran.

  Morgan breathed a sigh of relief and dropped the spoon.

  If there had been more of them, they would’ve overwhelmed her, using their sharp teeth and claws and whittled her flesh down to bones in a matter of minutes.

  A deep foreboding tore through her chest, until she thought her heart was being ripped out. “Draven.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Morgan scrambled to the top of the shelves, uncaring of the noise and raced to the spot where she last saw Draven disappear.

  And found nothing.

  Panic tightened the back of her throat.

  She couldn’t be too late.

  Taking a couple steps back, she ran and leapt the fifteen feet between the aisles. The boxes collapsed under her weight, nearly dragging her over the edge. Morgan struggled upright and raced over the tops until she found her target.

  “Draven.” She nearly sagged in relief, her heart beating so hard her ribs ached.

  He was alive.

  He’d been running up and down the aisles, attracting such a crowd, they were now stalking him.

  He stood in a small clearing at the center of the warehouse, every direction seething with gremlins.

  He had nowhere else to go.

  If they reached him before she did, he wouldn’t stand a chance.

  With a burst of speed, Morgan drew her weapons and let them fly. She managed to pick off a few, their bodies flying backwards under the weight of the blows, but it didn’t kill them.

  Half of them turned toward her with a shriek of rage and charged.

  The other half began to pour out of the shelving like a waterfall of creatures, dropping down to corner Draven. The ones in the aisle stalked forward, their beady little eyes hard, practically salivating at the meal in front of them.

  Morgan kicked two of the gremlins out of the way, clearing a path, and stepped over the edge.

  Gravity took hold, and she dropped thirty feet to the ground, landing only a few paces away from Draven. She grinned up at him, noting drops of blood on his clothes, his haggard appearance, but he was thankfully still in one piece. “You started without me. Not fair.”

  He shook his head, but a slight smile lifted his lips. “I could say the same for you.”

  “A girl’s got to have some fun.” Morgan shrugged, not even feeling the tiny puncture wounds littering her body as she swiped away the black goo crusting her leather pants. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t dealt with on numerous other hunts.

  The gremlins halted their advance at her appearance, milling about until the big one smacked the smaller ones next to him, his chatter sounding like scolding.

  “Any ideas?” Draven gripped his weapons, going back to back with her, facing off against the small horde.

  When one ventured near, he lashed out with his boot and launched the creature in the air.

  “Maybe.” Morgan grimaced, when a totally foolish idea came to her. “You’re going to think it silly.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “I’ll take silly over sharp claws and teeth ripping me to shreds.”

  Morgan kicked away a nasty gremlin leaping for her face, the creature going in for a quick kill by ripping out her throat. “Sing.”

  “What?”

  He sounded so appalled, Morgan turned to see he had paled and backed away from her as if she’d threatened to cut off his man parts.

  Then they had no more time.

  There were more than forty gremlins surrounding them, and even more skulking closer. Morgan recalled the last song she heard, the one in the van, and began to sing.

  Her voice was clear, if slightly off tune, and she fought a blush when Draven gaped at her like she was a freak.

  Then the nearest gremlins paused and crep
t forward, quietly chirping. A few of them sat, their gravelly voices humming along in harmony, although horribly off-tune, making her wince. They began to bob their heads, their eyes sliding shut.

  More and more began to join them.

  But it wasn’t enough, her voice didn’t carry far enough to ensnare them all.

  She gestured toward Draven, willing him to join her.

  He glanced around the warehouse, noted the same thing, and his face completely shut down. He stared at her with shattered eyes, and she’d felt like she asked him to slit his throat.

  Then he began to sing softly.

  Holy shit, he could sing.

  Angelic came to mind.

  She faltered for a second so she could simply enjoy the beauty of the sound. The notes were light, almost like he was playing an instrument, and totally enthralling.

  She had thought the song beautiful and heartbreaking in the van, but now it nearly devastated her.

  The click of nails on granite jerked her back to the present and away from the snare of his voice, and she shook her head to clear it before joining him.

  He gave her a baffled look, completely ignoring the danger around them, his voice floating effortlessly as he wove it over and around her own.

  A commotion in the group of now-docile gremlins caught her attention, and she spotted the big, scarred gremlin pushing and shoving at the others, trying to wake them as he worked his way through the crowd. His damaged ear must be protecting him from falling under the musical spell completely.

  Morgan grabbed her knife, drew back her arm and let it sail.

  It hit true, the hilt smacking the gremlin between the eyes as she intended, knocking him on his ass and out cold.

  The rest of the team emerged from the shadows, almost herding a couple of zombie-like gremlins toward the sound.

  Kincade wasn’t pleased, openly glaring at Draven.

  Harper looked just as pissed when she saw Morgan was alive and well, and Morgan took pleasure in noting that her perfect clothes were rumpled, her long hair a little shorn and snarled in spots.

  Atlas had a few rips in his clothes, but appeared unharmed. He scanned her from head to toe, then gave her a nod. Kincade had a few bruises, his left side was covered with black goo, but it was Ryder who caught her attention. He was covered with blood, his clothes nearly black with slime. Ragged wounds littered his arms and torso, and even his legs were marked by deep gouges in his leathers.

  The gremlin in his grip was clearly the queen.

  If Morgan thought the males were ugly, this creature was even worse. Not only were her features warped with scales and warts, it looked like her teeth were longer and sharper than the rest.

  Thankfully, she seemed just as enthralled as her subjects.

  Kincade gestured toward Harper, and magic immediately pooled in the room. Power tugged at the runes on Morgan’s back, and she struggled to keep the magic from pulling toward her. Hearing her plea, the metal of the torque thinned, wrapping around her neck over and over, snuffing out the almost irresistible draw of magic.

  The magic rebounded in the room as it released its hold on her. Within seconds, a portal tore open between the worlds. One by one, they began to systematically gather the gremlins and toss them into the void. Morgan stood, wincing when her wounds stung, then grabbed the nearest enthralled gremlins and went to work.

  It took thirty minutes before she was sure they had them all.

  The rift snapped shut with an audible pop, and the air sounded hushed as the song faded.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing?” Kincade strode toward Draven, and Morgan stepped between them.

  “It’s my fault.” Morgan hastily hopped backwards when he nearly plowed over her. “I noticed they were sensitive to sounds and made a calculated guess.”

  Kincade removed plugs from his ears, tossing them violently to the floor. “Of that I have no doubt, you reckless little fool. You not only risked your life, but his as well—on a stupid guess. What if you had been wrong?”

  Each word staggered her, hitting harder than any blow, and any closeness she felt to the team vanished under his harsh regard.

  What was worse?

  He was right.

  It was her idea to split up, her idea to send Draven off as bait.

  Worse, it would have been her fault if he had been torn apart in front of her eyes.

  “And it worked. Ease off.” Draven pushed his way between them, shoving Kincade away. “And for your information, it might have been her idea, but it saved our lives. In case you hadn’t noticed, we were surrounded. Do you think you would’ve been able to fight your way through all of them to save us?”

  Kincade ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s late. Head back to the van. We’ll discuss what happened when we reach the Academy. For now, get your injuries checked out. Harper, Atlas, you’re both with me. We’ll do one last sweep and dispose of the remaining bodies.”

  Tension stretched among the team, people taking sides, and Morgan hated that she was at the focus of the dissension.

  “Morgan?” Draven’s voice was so soft and understanding that tears burned her eyes.

  “I’m fine.” She quickly stooped so they wouldn’t see her face, gathering up her missing weapons and heading toward the door.

  As they neared the van, Draven and Ryder hovered over her like nervous hens. “Really, guys, I’m fine. See?” She held out her battered hands. “My wounds are already beginning to heal.”

  Both dutifully glanced down, but neither appeared convinced.

  “But the two of you look the worse for wear. You,” she pointed at Ryder, nearly gagging at his stench. “Take yourself down to the lake for a good dousing.”

  When he opened his mouth to protest, she waved him away and wrinkled her nose. “We’ll be trapped inside a vehicle with you for hours. Believe me, you’ll be doing us all a favor.”

  Heaving a sigh, he lumbered away on silent feet. He seemed so defeated, she took a step after him, but forced herself to stop.

  He didn’t halt at the water’s edge, but kept walking until he was submerged.

  Morgan waited for him to resurface, refusing to look at Draven, swallowing past the lump in her throat to speak. “He was right. I’m sorry. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been in danger.”

  “Bullshite.” He scowled, wrenching the rear door open almost violently. “Every mission is dangerous. He’s really pissed because he didn’t expect us to be overwhelmed. Our weapons were worthless. The only thing we could use to kill them was sheer brute force. He blames himself for things going wrong and took it out on you. Kincade’s old school. He doesn’t believe women should fight—he was raised to believe they should be protected. Something about you triggers his asshole side.”

  He rummaged around inside the van, pulling out a bag of supplies. “My guess is it’s tearing him up inside that he wasn’t there to protect you.”

  Morgan snorted at the absurdity of it. “You’re wrong. He doesn’t even like me.”

  “You don’t understand.” Draven handed her a towel and a bottle of water, and she dutifully cleaned the worst of her injuries, swiping away at the last of the goo on her pants. “Kincade trained his whole life to be a member of the elite. He chose this life, pushed himself to be the best for the sole purpose of one day being able to protect the woman who would bear his mark. I think it bothers him that despite being the best, he hasn’t been marked or claimed.”

  Morgan was baffled. “What does that have to do with me?”

  She dabbed at the claw marks across her knuckles, barely feeling the sting, curious about his answer.

  “You committed the worst sin in his eyes.” Draven accepted the empty bottle from her, shoving it in the bag with the rest of the trash. “By fighting, he sees you are not only risking your life, but denying a warrior his chance at a mate if something happens to you.”

  “There is a slight flaw in your theory.” She stood back as he slammed the
door shut, turning to watch Ryder ruthlessly scrub his hair. “Witches go out hunting all the time.”

  “You’re right, but they also have at least five hunters with them wherever they go. Witches are not only protected by hunters, they can also use their magic to defend themselves. You actually throw yourself at danger.” Draven dabbed at a nasty wound on his arm and winced. “Two very different things.”

  “Mutts are never chosen as mates, so your theory is not exactly without fault.”

  Draven’s hand stopped, a confused expression on his face. “You might not know your breed, but you are no mutt.”

  Yearning churned in her gut at his certainty. “I’m a null, almost the exact opposite of a witch. I’ve trained all my life as a hunter. Everyone put their lives at risk tonight, and I was no different.”

  He shook his head, his bangs falling into his eyes as he glanced up from bandaging his wounds. “But we’re expendable. With or without magic, you’re more valuable than you believe.”

  “No hunter is expendable.” She shifted her feet, uncomfortably at the genuine warmth in his eyes.

  The sight of Ryder jogging back toward them, his shirt sticking to him like a second skin, stole the rest of her thoughts. Draven edged closer, nudging her shoulder. “You might want to mop up the drool.”

  Her cheeks burned at being caught, and she shoved him back. “Jerk.”

  But she was grateful for the distraction and the ability to pull her eyes away.

  “Better?” Ryder’s voice was gruff, the uncertainty on his face melting her heart.

  Giving into temptation, she leaned forward, ignoring the way he stiffened, and inhaled, relieved to smell the wild, fresh green scent she associated with him. “Yup.”

  When she stepped away, his whisky brown eyes seemed to glow.

  He looked at her like the rest of the world had vanished.

  “Okay, big guy.” Draven chuckled and steered him away, shooting her a reproving look as he opened the van door. “Into the back.”

  When Ryder was seated, Draven gestured for her to wait, waving her away from entering the van. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”