Heart of the Assassins (Academy of Assassins #2)

The ragged tone of his voice held her motionless. “I’m a trained assassin. You’re not going to lose me so easily.”

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped him. When he met her gaze, his green eyes were haunted. “My mother hooked up with a man on one of her drunken binges, not realizing his story of being a gargoyle was real until I was born. When symptoms of my heritage started to manifest, she gave me up, not wanting to be saddled raising a freak. I was left to run wild in the streets. It didn’t take me long to realize that children are a rich commodity. I was able to defend myself, but many were not. When I accidently beat a man to death when he tried to snatch a child under my care, I was taken into custody.”

“What happened?” Morgan’s stomach churned, knowing he wasn’t telling her everything, keeping the worst of it from her.

“No paranormal can stay in the system without being discovered by humans. A man from the Academy found me. Money exchanged hands to ensure my case was lost. He became my guardian and trained me.” The first genuine smile lightened his face. “I was admitted to the Academy early, thanks to him. I was good. I thought I knew everything. When I went home for holiday, a rift opened. The coven sent out a team to deal with the problem, and I followed my guardian, determined to prove to him and myself that I was no longer a child.”

“How old were you?” Morgan wanted to stop him from reliving the pain of his past, but whatever happened still festered, molding him into an unbending man who didn’t know how to move past his childhood and live in the present.

“Twelve.”

Morgan winced, and he gave her a rueful smile. “I thought I knew everything. I was at the top of my class, destined for the elites. I wanted to hunt with him, he was one of the best, and I wanted to show him that his belief in me wasn’t misplaced. I was too impatient and stupid to realize it was a trap. I charged right into the fight despite their warning shout.

“By then it was too late. They came after me, targeted me. My guardian gave his life, saving me at the cost of his own. I saw him and his men, the very people who saved me from the slums and raised me as family, torn apart before my eyes.” He raked his fingers through his hair, turned to look out over the water. “I barely survived. It was weeks before I could walk, months before I could fight.”

“Cade—”

“There was even talk of expelling me from the Academy.” He whirled to face her. “From that point forward, only one thing mattered—to make sure no one else ever suffered the same fate.”

“So you became driven, focused, the youngest elite with a perfect record.”

“Until you.”

Her mouth snapped shut at his confession. He stalked toward her, roughly grabbing her jaw to tip her head back. “You terrify the shit out of me. You throw yourself into a fight, never thinking about the consequences.”

He brushed his fingers along her skin, then dropped his hand. “I know firsthand what happens to others around people like us.”

Morgan flinched as if he’d struck her…because what he said was true. She nearly cost MacGregor and her team their lives on more than one occasion. “In our profession, no amount of training can guarantee our safety.”

He blanched, and she grabbed his shirt when he started to move away. “But one thing can mitigate the risks…a team you can trust.” She poked him in the chest. “You taught me that. But it doesn’t work unless you trust me in turn.”

“I can’t lose you.” He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, as if looking at her was too painful. “I won’t.”

“Cade.” Her heart ached for everything he’d lost, but she ruthlessly shoved away the emotions. She touched his shoulders, then reached back, grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, until she was sure she had his attention. “You’re setting yourself—and me—up to fail. I’ll never be good enough according to your standards. We have a job that constantly puts us in danger. You can’t protect me from life. You’re living in fear, pushing me away to avoid what may or may not happen. I deserve better than that.” She tightened her grip and shook him, wishing she could get him to understand. “You deserve better than that.”

He grabbed her wrist, his grip hard, almost brutal, as he brought her wrist up to his mouth and brushed his lips against her pulse. “You’ll have to be patient with me, kick my ass when I don’t listen.”

“I can do that.” She gave him a bright smile, her heart leaping in her chest at his concession and the chance for a real future as part of the team. Almost giddy, she allowed herself the pleasure of running her fingers through his hair. “You won’t regret your decision.”





No, he wouldn’t, because Kincade was determined that nothing would ever happen to her under his watch. He flexed his shoulders, his skin suddenly feeling too tight. His nails hardened, lengthening into claws, ready to defend her against whatever presumed to take her from him.

While Morgan walked back to the makeshift camp the team was preparing, he wrapped his hand around the knife tucked at his waist to hide the way his hands shook over how close he’d come to losing her over his own stupidity.

He followed her, unable to tear his gaze away from the graceful, athletic way she moved. She was right. He couldn’t protect her from everything, but that didn’t mean he sure as hell couldn’t try.

“You need to rest.” While the rest of the team collected wood for the fire, Kincade sat in front of the small flames and grabbed Morgan’s hand when she walked behind him. He tugged, pulling her off balance, using her own momentum to drag her over his shoulder before catching her close to his chest. Her oomph and startled expression when she landed in his lap made him smile.

The gardog sprang from his perch and thunked to the ground, scampering away with a little growl and roar, snapping at the sparks of flame that floated up from the spitting fire.

Kincade lowered her gently, using her stunned silence to stretch out at her side, slipping his arm under her head. He remained tense, half expecting her to scramble to her feet and dash away. “You haven’t closed your eyes since you arrived in this realm. We need you to be at the top of your game if you’re planning to save the world.”

“I’m too exhausted to sleep.” Despite her protest, Morgan wiggled her butt into a more comfortable position, and his arm tightened around her possessively.

Only when she settled did he allow himself to relax, and he trailed his fingers over the dainty silver filigree marks on her arms that bound them together. Every time he touched her, he could feel the connection between them strengthen, and he once again called himself a fool for nearly losing her because of his own stubborn stupidity.

The mutt crept closer, almost indistinguishable from the darkness, head close to the ground, his butt wiggling in the air. He charged forward, barking and nipping playfully at the finger he traced over Morgan, causing her to laugh in delight. The game only lasted a few minutes before the mutt sneaked closer and crawled between them, promptly falling into a trusting sleep.

“Where did you find him?”

“The gargoyle in the garden carved him for me.” She stroked her finger over the mutt’s ear, smiling when he wiggled and growled as if chasing his prey.

With a pang, he wished she would touch him the same way. He cleared his throat, nearly forgetting what he was going to say when she looked up at him with her big, striking blue eyes. “He didn’t carve the mutt, not like the other pieces he left you. He took a piece of his soul and created the hound to protect you. It’s very rare, and a great honor. They only awaken when they select a person they deem worthy and bond to them.”

Morgan appeared flustered, uncomfortable at his words, and his heart thudded hard against his ribs when it appeared she would pull away from him. He barely resisted rubbing his chest, knowing it would do little to alleviate the pain. “There are only a few full gargoyles remaining,” he continued. “Most of them have turned to stone and never returned.”