Heart of the Assassins (Academy of Assassins #2)

They would get no help from that quarter.

Then there was no more time to worry as the gargoyle swung his legs down, twisted his wings, and he landed in a crouch, his large, muscular thighs absorbing the impact. Half the harpies dropped from the sky, while the remaining ones continued to swoop lower and lower, dive-bombing them.

He carefully released her, grabbed one of the harpies who had gotten a little too close, and ripped off her wings. Blood splattered everywhere and the harpy screeched bloody murder, clawing at him. Small scratches appeared on his skin, but the claws barely penetrated his stone-like hide. For good measure, he flung the body to the ground and stomped on the harpy’s head until the skull shattered like a melon.

The gargoyle bellowed in triumph, his wings snapping wide. That’s when she noticed one of his wings drooped lower than the other, trickles of blood flowing down his back. It was a miracle he could fly at all, much less land without crashing.

His black eyes landed on hers, worry churning in them—not for himself, but for her.

Then his eyes widened in alarm.

He leapt toward her, his wings snapping open, soaring over her and tackling the harpy aiming for her back. His tail wrapped around the creature, flinging her to the ground seconds before he pounced and silenced her shrieks.

Leaving her to face the harpy slinking low to the ground, trying to sneak up on him.

Without a thought, her rings and cuff melted down, rivulets of liquid metal running down her hands to form a pair of black blades. She didn’t hesitate, launching forward, slashing out with her knife, catching the startled harpy in the neck. The creature lashed at her with sharp claws, trying to tear out her throat, but her reach fell short. She was losing too much blood. Weakening too fast. Morgan lunged closer, slamming her blade into the creature’s temple, putting her out of her misery.

She turned to see the gargoyle surrounded.

Morgan might be the target, but the harpies were smart.

They were trying to take out her guard and leave her vulnerable.

Too bad they miscalculated.

She would not go down without a fight.

But the instant she stepped forward to enter the fight, the gargoyle roared in denial. His black eyes glowed, the magic infused in the Academy seemed to swell around him, until she recognized a familiar portal opening up to her right.

“Go.” The gargoyle’s word was a rumble of rock on rock.

Morgan shook her head. “Not without you.”

She edged closer, but she took no more than a few steps when his tail lashed out, slamming against her chest, and knocking her off her feet. As she flew through the air, the last thing she saw was the gargoyle being overwhelmed by harpies before the portal flared bright and yanked her into its grip.

“Nooo!” The pull on her wavered at her demand, but it wasn’t enough, and the world around her vanished.





Chapter Four





Pure darkness of the void surrounded her until bright lights flickered into view, reminding her of a stunning, star-studded evening sky. But they weren’t stars, they were doorways to new worlds.

And she needed to find a way back to the Academy.

Too bad she didn’t have a clue how to do it.

Instead of biting cold, the void tingled against her skin, calling to the magic in her bones. She jerked the stone figurine from her pocket, clutching it in her fist while she concentrated on the connection to the gargoyle who’d given it to her. A sharp tug in her chest drew her in the direction of a bright door only a few yards away, the magic surging through her veins until it burned, when something slammed into her hard, spinning her away from the door and sending them crashing into a bright light and through a different portal.





Morgan came to consciousness slowly, pain reverberating in her skull, making it almost impossible to think. She concentrated on her surroundings, and immediately knew she was no longer earthside. The air was cleaner, richer, not so thin as on earth.

A sharp sting in her hand had her twisting up her arm. Inside her fist was the small gargoyle dog. She would almost swear it dug its claws in her hand to wake her up, which was pure foolishness. She prodded it with her magic to make sure, but couldn’t sense anything but thick void magic.

Exactly like the magic at the Academy.

She eyed the little critter suspiciously, but the pup stubbornly remained stone.

Only when she tried to tuck him back in her pocket did she realize the little critter was nearly twice his original size.

A noise behind her had her quickly shoving him down her shirt, the shock of cold startling a gasp out of her. Thankfully the stone quickly warmed against her skin. Something at the back of her mind, an instinct perhaps, warned that she should keep the pup’s presence a secret. She quickly sat up, shoving her long hair out of her face, then groaned when the world swirled around her. She swallowed repeatedly, until she no longer felt like throwing up, and gingerly lifted her head.

“Traveling between worlds can have that effect on some.”

Morgan turned slowly until she located the source of the voice. The man had his back to her, but he was so hauntingly familiar she froze, and her mind struggled to understand what had happened to her.

Then it clicked.

He was the one who’d grabbed her in the void.

“Nah, I’m guessing I feel like shit because you decided to jump on my back like a kid demanding a dammed piggyback ride.” The energy to pull him through the portal had left her exhausted, the magic sluggish in her blood. Not wanting to be at a disadvantage, she forced herself to her feet, stumbling when her legs failed to hold her weight for a few seconds.

She glanced up and saw the planet Earth suspended in the sky, the beautiful swirl of clouds skimming across its surface, the landscape so close and vivid it was hard to look away.

And somewhere on the surface her men were fighting for their lives.

Morgan scanned the area for danger, hoping the gargoyle had followed her through the portal, but she saw no sign of him anywhere. They were in a forest, the trees far enough apart that she could see any threat long before it approached. Worry sent her spirits plummeting. The last sight she had of the gargoyle was of his shredded wing, and the remaining harpies swarming him.

Tearing her mind away from the guilt over leaving him to die alone, she focused on her surroundings. A large lake was spread out to the left, the surface disturbingly calm. No wind rustled the trees. As she stepped forward, she noticed the grass was so thick it was like walking on plush carpeting.

The area should’ve been beautiful, but the eerie silence made it feel unnatural.

And she had a feeling it was because of him—the man standing at the edges of the shore.

He appeared young, maybe five years older than herself, but age could be deceiving with paranormals, many of them hundreds of years old while still resembling teenagers. He was a little unkempt, his appearance rumpled, his black hair shaggy and untrimmed, the chin-length strands snarled. His clothes, while very courtly, were decades or more out of date.

She could tell by the way he stood at perfect attention that he was a warrior. Tension practically vibrated from him, his muscles bunched, his fists clenched, as if he was seconds away from shattering or bursting into action if startled.

She had no doubt he could kill with his bare hands without batting an eye.

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