Assassin's Academy: Book Two: Revenge: (A Dark Academy Romance) Read online

  Assassin’s Academy: Book Two: Revenge

  Everly Frost

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  1. Peyton Price

  2. Peyton Price

  3. Striker Draven

  4. Peyton Price

  5. Striker Draven

  6. Peyton Price

  7. Peyton Price

  8. Striker Draven

  9. Peyton Price

  10. Peyton Price

  11. Striker Draven

  12. Peyton Price

  13. Striker Draven

  14. Peyton Price

  15. Striker Draven

  16. Peyton Price

  17. Striker Draven

  18. Hunter Cassidy

  19. Peyton Price

  20. Peyton Price

  21. Peyton Price

  22. Peyton Price

  23. Striker Draven

  24. Peyton Price

  25. Peyton Price

  26. Striker Draven

  27. Peyton Price

  28. Peyton Price

  29. Peyton Price

  30. Peyton Price

  31. Peyton Price

  32. Striker Draven

  33. Striker Draven

  34. Peyton Price

  35. Peyton Price

  36. Peyton Price

  37. Peyton Price

  38. Peyton Price

  39. Peyton Price

  40. Peyton Price

  41. Hunter Cassidy

  42. Striker Draven

  43. Peyton Price

  44. Striker Draven

  45. Peyton Price

  46. Striker Draven

  47. Peyton Price

  Bright Wicked: A new fantasy romance

  Assassin’s Magic Series

  Storm Princess Saga : The Complete Collection

  Also by Everly Frost

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2020 by Everly Frost

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  Frost, Everly

  Assassin’s Academy: Book Two: Revenge

  Cover design by fantasybookdesign.com

  For information on reproducing sections of this book or for sales of this book, go to

  www.EverlyFrost.com

  [email protected]

  For the fury in all of us.

  Foreword

  This book is set in the Assassin’s Magic world, but you don’t have to read the Assassin’s Magic series to follow this one.

  However, this book contains some spoilers for Assassin’s Magic.

  To catch up on the Assassin’s Magic series, the recommended reading order is:

  Assassin’s Magic

  1. Assassin’s Magic

  2. Assassin’s Mask

  3. Assassin’s Menace

  4. Assassin’s Maze

  Assassin’s Academy

  5. Rebels

  6. Revenge

  The Monster Ball Year 2 Anthology

  7. Assassin’s Match - Novella

  Prologue

  Hunter Cassidy - One Hour Ago

  Shadows sweep across the bookshop as dark clouds billow in the sky beyond the windows. I drop the pile of books I’m holding on to the countertop, focusing on the sudden weather change, my senses prickling and my maternal instincts kicking into overdrive.

  It’s the end of a peaceful summer in Boston or, at least, the most peaceful that an assassin could hope for. I’ve spent the last five months clearing my ledger, crossing off missions, and tying up loose ends. Only one mission remains incomplete and it’s proving more difficult than most. But what worries me right now is the nature of the storm growing outside—and inside—the shop.

  Electricity crackles in the air around me, charged blue streaks defying the laws of nature by arcing around my body. A whirlwind of sparkling light forms from my feet to my head, swirling around me a few bare inches from the surface of my skin, a biting force that compels me to remain completely still.

  I fight the urge to release my wings and harness my full power to free myself. That would be a bad idea, not only because my wings are so strong, they would tear up everything in their path—including the priceless antique books in glass cases at the front of the shop—but because the lightning isn’t forming to attack me.

  It’s forming to protect me.

  Very carefully, I slide my hand up over my pregnant stomach. My daughter isn’t due for over two more months, but her power is growing more wild and uncontrolled, stronger than any other unborn of my kind. She owes that to her father. Despite our ability to appear human, he and I are far from it.

  If she’s attempting to protect me now, it means she’s sensed danger close by. That alone worries me because this bookshop, and the street on which it’s located, is the safest place we could be.

  Just as I close my eyes, rubbing my stomach to try to calm her, the shop door flies open. It hits the wall with a bang and the bell above it rattles so hard, it nearly flies off its hook.

  Tansy Grey, the most powerful witch I’ve ever met, stands in the doorway, her dark blonde hair billowing in the stormy wind that tugs at her black dress. Boiling clouds darken the sky behind her, casting the street into darkness. The shield around me is so strong that I don’t feel the wind, even though it’s wild enough to pluck open the ledger resting on the countertop.

  The glowing electrical shield around me has been created by my unborn daughter, but the storm outside the shop is Tansy’s.

  They’re both upset about something.

  Tansy’s olive green eyes glow with instinctive magic. She doesn’t mince words. “A dark witch waits at the end of Saber Lane. She demands to see you, Hunter.”

  I ask the most important question first. “Can she breach the protective spell you cast over the Lane?”

  Nearly a year ago, the woman known as Lady Tirelli attacked my home here in Saber Lane and the consequences were devastating. During the attack, Tansy used her instinctive magic to cast an impenetrable spell over Saber Lane so that we can never be attacked again. Her spell protects everyone who lives here—humans and magical beings alike, all who escaped devastating pasts.

  Tansy relaxes a little. “She can’t.”

  I let out my breath. “But you’re worried.”

  Tansy inclines her head at the light show still keeping me captive. “So is your daughter.”

  I can’t deny it. If the dark witch came in peace, then she would be able to enter the Lane. The fact that she can’t set foot beyond the entrance tells me she’s truly my enemy. “Did she say why she wants to see me?”

  “She demanded that you bring your ledger.”

  I startle. My ledger is the means by which people access my services. Assassins don’t choose their own targets. I can only act if someone else writes a target’s name in my ledger. “She requests an assassination?”

  “I believe so.”

  My gaze narrows. “Who is she?”

  “Nobody I recognize. She’s young. Maybe twenty years old.”

  I allow myself to smile for the first time. If she’s twenty, then she’s actually not much younger than me, but I grew up quickly after my mother was murdered. Tansy is several years older than me. For Tansy to de scribe this witch as ‘young’ means she’s immature and has probably lived her life in a protected, privileged environment. Even if she controls dark magic, she won’t know death like I do.

  Even so… “I can’t go anywhere until my daughter lets me.”

  Tansy steps inside the shop. “Let me help.”

  I sense her fighting her own protective instincts as she leaves the storm outside. She kneels in front of me, closes her eyes, and slowly extends her hand, effortlessly breaching the electrical currents flickering around me. Flattening her palm across my stomach, I sense her exhale and all the tension leave her body, her expression becoming serene. Warmth and a deep sense of calm spread across my belly, easing out my worries. It’s the most peaceful I’ve seen Tansy for months. She always appears in control, but she hides her true battles. Her heart has been broken so many times that I’m worried she’ll never heal completely. Somehow, she has already forged a bond with my unborn daughter.

  The electrical currents around me fade and finally disappear.

  Before she can remove her hand, I take hold of it. I’m not sure how to say what I want her to know. “This will be you one day.”

  Her focus doesn’t return to my stomach. She withdraws with a small shake of her head. “Impossible. I lost my chance.”

  I want to argue with her, but I let it go. I can’t reopen her emotional wounds.

  Free to move around once more, I reach for my ledger where it rests on top of the shop counter next to the books I dropped. It’s a wide book, bound in amethyst-colored leather with cream pages visible at the edges.

  As I scoop it into my arms and prepare to leave the shop, I don’t need to ask Tansy to watch my back. She and I have been protecting each other for months now. She’s like a sister to me.

  She turns on her heel, her shoes clacking down the shop’s front steps. The storm clouds remain gathered in the sky above us, but I don’t mind. It’s good for this dark witch to see what she’s up against if she tries anything underhanded.

  I stride along Saber Lane, my boots beating the cobbled stone walkway. I’m not exactly as graceful as I once was, but I’m managing to get around without waddling to accommodate my growing belly. Not yet, anyway.

  The street is a tourist destination, a collection of rare and unusual shops. The road itself is paved and wide but not wide enough for vehicles. We head toward the brownstones that stand on either side of the entrance, passing the other shops along the way. Farther back from my antique bookshop is an apothecary—the best in Boston—along with a dojo where I train every morning. On the other side of the Lane, a demure 1950s-style bakery sits beside a grocery store that shrieks every neon color from the 1980s. But my favorite place is Dean’s Diner.

  Dean himself stands outside it, his sleeves rolled up around his large biceps, accentuated as he folds his arms across his chest.

  The bloodlessness of his cheeks tells me he’s in pain.

  It’s not a good sign.

  He strides over to us, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Be careful with this one, Hunter. She’s more dangerous than she looks.”

  I place my hand on his shoulder. Dean is an empath. Anger, fear, sadness… The emotions that others carry with them resonate with him, sometimes causing him extreme pain. “Go inside. Keep away from us. I’ll deal with her.”

  As he disappears inside the shop, I lean toward Tansy. “How powerful is she?”

  Tansy gives me another shake of her head. “I can’t place her power, Hunter. There’s something incredibly dangerous about her, but it feels more like a foreign power, not her own. Something she’s attached to herself—or has access to. We need to be careful.”

  Tansy is fiercely protective of every single human and magical being who lives here. So much so that she didn’t trust me—an outsider—for a long time.

  As we approach, I study the tall woman at the street’s entrance. She huddles next to one of the dark gray lampposts, leaning into it, her coat pulled tightly around herself and her hood covering her hair, but she straightens as we approach.

  Her gaze travels the length of my body from my mahogany hair to the tattoo inked into my right shoulder. I don’t feel the cold so I’m wearing short sleeves. Her focus shifts to my rounded stomach. She can’t conceal her surprise. I guess she didn’t think an assassin would choose to have a child.

  She has the aura of a witch, but Tansy’s right… there’s something else. A dangerous darkness clinging to her.

  I push away any fears that might dictate my actions. I learned long ago to control my emotions, to act with reason, assess all threats, and deal with them quickly.

  The wind whips at us as Tansy and I stop just inside the protective shield. Humans can’t see or sense the shield, but to all magical beings who step through it, it feels like a waterfall descending across their bodies. We’ll stay inside it for now.

  The woman pushes back her hood, revealing blonde hair that is braided tightly across her scalp to end in a single braid that rests across her shoulder. I catch sight of jeans and a sweater beneath her coat. Her eyes are more brightly blue than is natural and I sense the flickering remnants of a spell she can’t quite get rid of. A glamor maybe. Possibly a spell that went a little bit wrong.

  I stiffen as I recognize her, anger rising inside me. Her photograph forms part of an evidence box containing proof of all the crimes she’s committed. Assassins do not kill for the purpose of accumulating money, although it’s true that we make a good living off our trade. Rather, we step in when the usual channels of justice fail, whether due to legal loopholes or because witnesses are so terrified, they won’t come forward. In this woman’s case, fear of her family allows her to walk free.

  Not for long.

  Her name is written in the ledger of the Legion Master himself, Slade Baines. In fact, the names of every member of her family—her father, mother, and brother—are written into Slade’s ledger by brave clients who trust Slade to keep them safe from retaliation.

  If only Slade were here now. He would cut her down in an instant, whereas I am not allowed to touch her because of the simple fact that it’s not my ledger that her name is written in.

  I follow the Assassin’s Code. If I kill this woman now, I will break not one, but two rules. First, all assassinations must be sanctioned by the Guardian. No matter how willing I might be to carry out an assassination, the Guardian has the final say. This rule guards against unjust assassinations. I don’t have the Guardian’s permission to kill her, only Slade does. To break that rule would result in excommunication, which I will never risk.

  And second, an assassin must not interfere in an assassination—to touch her now would be considered an insult to Slade. As punishment, Slade would be entitled to fight me to regain his honor.

  That could get a little awkward since I’m carrying his child.

  “Kaitlyn Hadrix,” I say, unable to keep the chill out of my voice. “Why are you here?”

  Her eyes meet mine, her expression darkening. “I come for revenge.”

  It’s an interesting reason, but not unusual. She’s the daughter of the man who trained all of Lady Tirelli’s soldiers. Adrian Hadrix turned mere street thugs into skilled killers who terrorized innocent men, women, and even children in Lady Tirelli’s name. His name is also written in Slade’s ledger, along with at least forty other associates of Lady Tirelli whom Slade is yet to locate.

  As for Kaitlyn’s motives now, members of the underground are constantly at war with each other. Always fighting over territory. Lady Tirelli changed that by annihilating her competition, but she doesn’t dominate the underground anymore.

  Still, I’m curious about the emotion in Kaitlyn’s voice. “On whom could you possibly want to seek revenge, Kaitlyn Hadrix?”

  Her jaw tenses as she lifts her chin, petulant. “Did you bring your ledger or not?”

  Unhurried, I turn to Tansy as I hold my book out in my hands. “If you don’t mind, my friend?”

  It would be dangerous to make any physical contact with Kaitlyn, so Tansy will float the book to her through the protective shield instead.

  Always graceful, Tansy brushes the hair behind her ear. Kaitlyn won’t notice, but Tansy has written spells inside her palm so she can read them. Long ago, her power was irrevocably damaged and she still fights to recover it. Now she writes spells on slips of paper and across her body so she knows what words to say.

  While I hold my ledger out, Tansy murmurs a simple levitation spell beneath her breath. As soon as my ledger glides from my arms across to Kaitlyn, she grabs the book and opens it to the page where the pen is wedged.

  Hurriedly scribbling inside it, Kaitlyn only pauses once. It’s interesting to me that she hesitated. Judging by the progress of her pen across the page, she stopped around the place where she needs to write her offered payment. There must be something about what she’s offering that troubles her. Some clients pay with money, others with favors, and some with information.

  She snaps the book shut and hands it back to me.

  I smile when her hand can’t cross the protective shield and the book sticks halfway between us.