Shades of Gray: A Jude Magdalyn Novel by L. M. Pruitt

dropped a kiss on my forehead on her way out.
     
    I’m not sure how long I slept. Not long, because the first thing I noticed when I jolted out of my slumber was the sun shining through the windows. It turned the pretty, thin curtains transparent, a pale film of blue on the otherwise heavy air.
    I’d been told the windows were specially tinted to allow in light but not UV rays. My look of confusion had been met with one sentence. “The whole exploding in daylight thing.”
    Williams was such a smartass.
    The second thing to tip me off was the pounding in my head. Worse than your worst hangover ever pounding. I’m relatively good with pain - thank you, Mother Superior - but this was excruciating. Running on empty followed by not nearly enough sleep always gave me a bad headache, but this was outlandish. If my head could have rolled off my shoulders, it would have felt better.
    The third thing weighing in on my not having slept long was the guard in the chair across from me. He looked very much like he wanted to kill instead of protect.
    Thoughts about why he was relaxing in what was probably an authentic piece of Art Nouveau furniture - with a very long, scary blade in his lap - made the pain in my head explode.
    We sat there for a moment. Me - bleary-eyed and only partially dressed. Him - alert, scary and dressed. The bedside clock’s ticking echoed in the room, and the silence stretched until it was thinner than thread, begging to be broken. I was more than happy to oblige.
    “I assume you’re going to try and kill me?”
    The guard, who was supposed to be on my side, nodded, his shaved head shining dully in the late morning sun. I couldn’t stop staring at the tattoos covering his face and what I could see of his upper body. It reminded me of Celtic knot work, but it seemed… off. It was still beautiful work, starkly black against his glowing white skin; but it was wrong.
    “I don’t intend to try, Prophecy. I was sent because I’m the best assassin seen in the past seven hundred years.” He smiled briefly, amused. “Well, I suppose I haven’t really been seen - but my work definitely has.”
    “Looking to share your resume, boast a little?” I let the sheet drop to my waist, thankful beyond reason I had kept some of my clothes on. I was also thankful that men, no matter their age or species, are men. His slim fingers stilled for a moment in their massaging of the knife blade, his eyes traveling south before rising back to my face. When he met my eyes, I made sure to keep them blank - why, no, Mr. Looking to Kill Me, I wasn’t trying to distract you with my marvelous cleavage. After a moment, he spoke again.
    “I usually just complete my assignment and collect the remainder of my fee. Seeing as I’m a few hours ahead of schedule, I suppose I could take a few minutes to share some of my exploits.” This time, the smile was genuine when he asked, “Perhaps you’ve heard that Hitler and his mistress were killed in the bombing of their safe house by Allied forces?”
    I stared at him; slack jawed, forgetting this was not the time to be impressed by a guy’s job. “You’re telling me you killed Hitler and Eva Braun? No way. Seriously?”
    He laughed a deep, joyous sound so at odds with the conversation and situation it was more than a little freaky. “I must say, it’s almost too bad I have to kill you. It’s been a long time since anyone has been so amused with my accomplishments. He made the grave error of sending more than a few vampires to the concentration camps, turning them over to his horrible doctors as “subjects” in their various experiments. His reasoning was anything that killed an undead would truly kill mere humans. He was, quite simply, pure evil.”
    I blinked, thrown off by the last words he spoke. “Pure evil? Like Satan and the Anti-Christ pure evil?”
    He laughed again and rose. His boots made loud thuds as he crossed to sit on the edge of the mattress. The look in his eyes