Marked For Death: A Dark Urban Fantasy Novel Becca Blake (fiction novels to read .txt) 📖

Tears blurred my vision as I rushed at the creature wearing the image of my former partner.

She rolled aside and pulled out a pair of daggers from the straps on her thighs. She sidestepped my attacks, then kicked my sword out of my hand.

I stumbled into the dumpster behind me. I’d sparred with Ayla enough to recognize her style with her favored weapons. No matter how good I got, I could never beat her. Ayla was too fast, too nimble. She could always dance circles around me.

If this was a trick, it was a damned good one.

“You’re dead,” I said, backing away from her. “I saw your weapons. Your body.”

“It wasn’t me.” She shook her head and moved closer.

I pulled out my handgun. “Stay there.”

“Put that thing down before you hurt someone,” she said as she continued walking. “You won’t shoot me.”

My finger hovered beside the trigger. But she was right. Demon or not, I couldn’t shoot.

“It’s really me. I swear. I’m not dead,” she said softly.

I replayed the images of that night in my mind so often that I was sure I’d memorized every detail. At the time, her daggers had been all the proof I needed to know she was dead. I’d been too horrified to look closely at the body, which was burned beyond recognition. It certainly could have been one of the civilians who died in the chaos. I wouldn’t have known.

“Why?” I hated how my voice trembled.

“It was the only way to leave the Arbiters without being labeled an Oathbreaker. I’d been wanting to get out for a long time, so when I saw an opportunity, I took it.” She spun her daggers in her hands and slid them back into the sheaths on her thighs.

I followed her lead and put away my gun, then wrapped my arms around her.

“I can’t believe you’re alive.”

As I held her, I couldn’t help but think of the time I spent mourning her. Losing her destroyed me. It took an entire month before I even began to move on. That whole time, I believed it was my fault she was dead. I hated myself for doing everything wrong, for abandoning her.

But it turned out she was the one who abandoned me.

My fist flew before I realized what I was doing. She stumbled away, surprised by the sudden blow. In truth, I was as shocked by it as she was.

“I guess I deserved that,” she said, rubbing her cheek.

“You’re damn right you did,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Heat rose through my body, spreading warmth to my hands. I didn’t bother trying to stop the flames gathering around my wrists. It felt good to indulge the emotion rather than suppress it, to acknowledge the pain she caused me.

Ayla’s eyebrows rose for a brief moment before she masked her expression again. “I’m sorry. I needed you to believe—really believe—that I died, so that they would believe you were telling the truth when you returned to Haygrove. I didn’t want them to send you after me. How could I do that to you?”

“So instead, you let me believe you were dead? I had to mourn you.” The flames swirled up my arms with wild energy.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

The apology wasn’t nearly enough, but I took a deep breath to calm myself and shook away the magic swirling on my arms. No matter how furious I was, I wasn’t going to hurl fireballs at her. And though I hated to admit it, she was right. As hard as it had been to mourn her, it would have killed me to hunt her down.

“You could have at least let me know after,” I said, once I regained my composure.

“I wrote so many texts that I never sent,” she said. “I wanted to reach out, but I didn’t know how.”

“Why tonight, then? How did you know I was here?”

Ayla offered me her cell phone. I took the device from her outstretched hand and looked down at a blurry image on a tiny TV screen. Though it was small, I immediately recognized the picture of myself stumbling out of the church with the rest of the crowd, looking dazed and exhausted.

There had been enough people around that slipping away from the police and rescue crews hadn’t been difficult, but apparently we hadn’t made it past the news cameras unseen. If Ayla saw me on the news coverage, it was safe to assume that someone back at headquarters did, too.

“You saved all of those people at that church?” Ayla asked.

“Not all of them.” I handed the phone back to her.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. You didn’t look so great, and it had me worried.”

“I’m fine.”

I saw on her face that she didn’t believe the lie, but I was grateful that she didn’t call me on it.

“Take a walk with me,” she said. “We can catch up.”

I checked the time on my phone and found I still had two hours before we would leave for Haygrove.

“Sure. I’ve got some time before I have to get back to my hotel.”

The empty streets gave the night a surreal ambiance, like something out of a dream. Despite Ayla’s suggestion that we catch up on all we missed, we walked side-by-side in a comfortable silence, like nothing had changed between us. Though my time was dwindling, it was nearly an hour before either of us spoke.

“So, you’ve been here in Omaha this whole time?” I asked.

“I didn’t know where else to go, so I’ve been working at a bookshop here.”

Despite everything, I smiled. “That suits you.”

“It’s just something to pay the bills,” she said, shrugging. “Doesn’t pay as well as demon hunting, but at least I don’t have to worry about dying on the job. Though, I gave a woman a drink with two pumps of coffee instead of four at the shop’s cafe this morning, and now I’m reconsidering whether that’s even true.”

“Well, I’ve never worked a