Don't Read in the Closet volume one Read Online Free Page A

of reach. “Oh I’m sure
we’ll bump into each other again soon.”
    And with that, Achan was
gone—disappearing with all the preternatural speed of his new godhood and a
laugh that shot straight through Dashiel like quicksilver.
    ****
    Dashiel tried to
concentrate on the job at hand, but it just wasn’t happening. He’d spent hours
waiting for the next two mortals on his hit list to be in the right position.
But the two stubborn men just weren’t cooperating. It was almost as if they
knew they were being targeted and were actively trying to thwart him.
    And all the while,
Dashiel felt tight and distracted, wondering when he’d get the chance to see
Achan again.
    Finally, thank The
Pantheon for small mercies, one of the soon-to-be-lovers missed his bus and
hurried into the same coffee shop as his unsuspecting would-be-suitor to keep
warm and dry until the next scheduled service.
    Dashiel saw his chance.
Drawing his bow with a fluid grace born of centuries of practice, he inhaled,
took aim and—
    “Hello, Dashiel.”
    The arrow slipped from
his grasp and shot forward with a sickening high-pitched whistle, hitting the
target right in the heart. Dashiel suppressed a wince—the poor sucker was going
to fall so hard. But at least he’d struck the right mark. Things could have
gone all sorts of interesting if he’d got the wrong guy. Or—Godshome forbid—hit
the girl standing beside him.
    Dashiel spun around.
“Achan! What are you doing here?”
    “Oh, you remember me.
How sweet.” Achan smirked, and oddly, Dashiel found himself about to make
excuses
    for not having kept in
contact over the years—something he’d never found himself doing before. But
Achan waved it away nonchalantly. “I’m only teasing. Don’t look so panicky.”
    “I wasn’t panicking.”
    “If you say so.” Achan
took a long, slow lick of the sweet-ice in his hand—a slender cylindrical treat
that was proving increasingly popular with the younger crowd.
    Dashiel followed Achan’s
tongue, now stained a vivid pink with food colouring—thoroughly mesmerised.
    “It’s hot out today,
huh?” Achan asked, cheeky grin firmly in place. “You want some?”
    Dashiel felt himself
blush to the roots of his hair at having been caught staring. He shook his
head, not quite trusting his voice—sure he’d embarrass himself even more with a
husky rasp. Or worst still a moan.
    “So what ya doing?”
Achan asked, still licking at his sweet-ice.
    “Working.”
    Achan sighed. “So it’s
true.”
    “What?”
    “A love god’s work is
never done.” Achan was laughing at him—he could see it in the sparkle of
mischief in those dark blue eyes.
    “Why are you here?”
    “Oh, I’m hurt!” Achan
mocked with a pout—crunching down on the tip of the sweet-ice and making
Dashiel cringe involuntarily. “I thought you wanted to see me again.”
    “That’s not—”
    “As it happens, I was
sent to deliver a message. You’re my first customer… so to speak.”
    Waving the last of his
sweet-ice out of existence with a casual flick of his wrist, Achan produced a
thin scroll from his belt and handed it across. Dashiel didn’t fail to notice
the way Achan made sure their fingers brushed against one another in passing.
In fact, it was impossible to ignore as the contact sent shivers of delight
racing up his arm and across his entire body.
    Trying to distract
himself from the sensation, Dashiel broke the seal and rapidly scanned the
note.
    “You’ve got to be
kidding me. How the Tartarus am I supposed to get those two in the same room
together, never mind lined up to fall in love?”
    “Bad assignment?” Achan
asked, sounding genuinely sympathetic.
    “You could say that.
Last I saw these two hated each other. To the point of sending trained
assassins.”
    Achan winced, but then
did something completely shocking. He raised himself up on his tip-toes and
brushed a quick kiss to Dashiel’s cheek. “You’ll do it. I know you will.”
    Dashiel