by
Focus. You’re sharing a room with a brooding hulk who hasn’t said anything in over an hour. He’s just sharpening that damn machete and muttering to himself.
Pax, a cute little pixie (his words), is having a bad day. It started off nice enough, but finding himself chained to a floor watching a bear shifter sharpening a machete wasn't how he preferred to spend his afternoon. When his own silver tongue didn't seem to be working and that machete started swinging, Pax needed a hero - fast.
“Hold that thought, sweetie.”
Storm, crocodile shifter, assassin and lover of Italian shoes didn't consider himself a hero, but he was really glad Cyrus had given him the job of saving the sweet magic user from a manic bear shifter. Now if he could only just save the man without being stabbed...
"...Evil shifters who chain up cute magic users don’t get mates, sweetie. But it seems like sexy crocodile shifters who save chained up magic users do. Let’s have a look at those cuffs.”
It takes a bit of adjustment, but Storm and Pax start working on their lives together. Or at least, they would, if family members on both sides didn't start coming out of the woodwork causing trouble. Through it all, one thing is clear. Donuts can solve almost anything.
This book is the second book in the Assassin's Alley series. It can be read as a standalone, but some readers might like to learn more about the secondary characters by reading book one, Not That Kind of Demon.
- 1 To Be Read list
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 5
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Protagonist 2 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Tropes: Fated Mates / Soul Mates
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Same Universe / Various Characters
The only issue Storm could see as he moved as quickly as he could to his destination, was that he was not a rural person. He preferred his kills in more urban areas – places where he was given an address, be it a bar, club, office, or private home, and he could take care of business without ruining his shoes. Storm didn’t consider himself a wimp by any means, but after growing up with barely the shirt on his back, Storm liked to look after the things he had bought and paid for in his adult life.
READ MOREAnd tromping through all manner of shit and decaying vegetation is not something recommended by the sellers of my fine shoes, he thought with a sigh. But even as he was mentally tallying the cost of the shoe replacements, his crocodile stirred, and Storm tensed. His animal half was a placid beast for the most part. Storm had no issues shifting regularly, and he and his animal spirit were nearly always in tune. If something was causing his crocodile to take notice, Storm needed to as well.
That’s when he heard it. A faint scream – coming from the direction the map was telling him the coordinates he was looking for were. Fuck don’t tell me I’m too late. Storm would never forgive himself if a victim died just because he was fretting over his shoes. Breaking into a run, the one usually reserved for Gwen’s bacon buns, Storm crashed through the bushes, dodging trees, claws erupting from his fingertips and his gums itching.
He was close. Storm could scent death before he saw the cabin, or what passed for one. The smell was faint, as if the bodies had been buried for some time, but it was there. Storm’s anxiety rose as the screams got louder. There wasn’t time to check out the scene – a sensible thing to do when confronting a bear shifter – Storm needed to save whoever was making all the noise.
Damn it, there was a driveway. Storm spotted a car, covered in scratches and mud splatters, as he crossed the small clearing between trees and the dwelling. Although it wasn’t a dwelling as such. It was a hut that clearly hadn’t seen a paint brush in a dozen decades.
“Help. He’s trying to kill me. Help me! I don’t want to die!”
Claws will have to do. Putting on a final burst of speed, Storm ran through the door – yes, it was closed, but a pissed off crocodile had a ton of strength behind him. Wood splintered everywhere, and in normal situations that would be enough to stop a mad man trying to kill another with a machete. A sweet, gorgeous looking being who was chained to the fucking floor, and who was screaming loud enough to wake the dead buried outside.
“Oi!” Clearly his entrance wasn’t going to stop the bear shifter from his mission, so Storm had to get on with his. Taking two steps, he leaped, clinging to the bear’s back, wrapping his arms around the man’s throat.
The man’s arms were still swinging wildly, and that machete looked lethal. Storm’s added weight to the man’s neck caused him to stumble, and Storm tried to swing his body so that the bear would move away from the tied up being. The chained man wasn’t human, but damn he smelled delicious, and it was in that moment Storm realized why he’d been sent…
COLLAPSE
