Black and Brown: Raven Assassins (Ravens #1)

Chapter Nineteen

Grace

Grace didn’t stop his long strides, although he heard Mirage’s multiple sighs behind him.

He walked so close to him that it was impossible not to.

Grace shoved open the door to the gun range hard enough for the knob to punch a hole in the wall and beelined to the array of handguns.

Mirage grabbed a pair of protective earmuffs before selecting a VP9 handgun, though Grace knew it wouldn’t be long before his partner moved to the cork boards to throw some knives and maybe an axe or two.

After an hour of Grace switching from handguns to rifles, ending with a Mossberg shotgun, Mirage inched in close behind him.

In response, Grace pulled back one earmuff while he reloaded.

“You’re angry…why?”

His partner’s warm breath sent chills down his spine. If he were capable of feeling pleasure, he imagined that heat would spread lower.

Grace had always been attracted to capable men, and Mirage had capability in fucking spades.

But those feelings no longer stirred in Grace’s gut as they would have years ago.

Sometimes, he wondered why that part of him had to be deadened. Making him experience such amplified rage and aggression without a way to let it out was a recipe for disaster.

So, yes . He was very angry.

Training all day for months was no longer satisfying Grace’s urge to kill.

Holograms of terrorists didn’t compare to putting a bullet in the real thing.

Every day, he read about violent crimes being committed against his country and its citizens. Wrongs that the Ravens promised he’d be able to make right.

Fucking when?

Mirage pressed his chest against Grace’s back and removed his ear protection.

“Turn and look at me so I can see why.”

Grace wished he could see into Mirage’s mind and hear the internal dialogue that appeared to never turn off.

Grace did as his partner asked and gazed down into blue-gray eyes full of wisdom and insight, relaying without words the burning searing his core.

Mirage didn’t speak for a long time as he held eye contact. Mirage moved closer, appearing to take in every detail of Grace’s facial features, his gaze piercing his soul.

There was something warm in those uniquely angled eyes. A compassion that shouldn’t be there but was.

Grace didn’t blink. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to miss a second of those unique-colored irises dilatating and constricting.

How does he do this? Is his mind so complex that the drugs didn’t take?

“Soon, Grace. When it’s least expected, the Ravens will unleash you on the world.”

The gentleness of Mirage’s voice never failed to lull Grace toward serenity.

“And God help the man who encounters your rage.”

The compliment was unexpected and cooled the fire burning inside Grace’s chest.

He thought he saw a smile tugging at the corner of Mirage’s lips, but before he could be sure, his expression shifted into a stoic mask.

“I’m going to bed. Get some rest, Grace. We need to stay sharp.”

Mirage left the shooting range, taking the comfort of his voice and the smell of cool cotton with him.