Free Silent Blade by Ilona Andrews

sprites, handcuffs, intriguing new uses for a silk bed curtain, and scorching, shake-the-ceiling-tiles sex.
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    Enjoy the following excerpt for Lover Enslaved:
    â€œWhat is this place?” Mara gave the building a dubious stare.
    â€œSome vehicles end up here prior to finding new homes.”
    Mara wrinkled her nose. “You mean it’s a dissemble shop?”
    â€œI won’t ask how such a sheltered flower knows that term.” Chuckling, he handed his bag to Mara. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, run.”
    She shoved the bag back at him. “Forget it, I’m coming with you. And what the hell kind of advice is run ?”
    â€œYou’re staying put.” He ignored her growl and tucked her fingers over the handle of his bag. “These shops are typically run by sketchy characters. I don’t need to worry about your safety while brokering our transportation.”
    â€œSo don’t. I’m a big girl.” She sidled around him and pushed the side door open with her valise.
    She’s going to be the death of me. Gritting his teeth, he followed her into the garage’s dim interior. Paint fumes and the gritty stench of engine oil fouled the air. A bald man hunched over a pod cycle’s stripped-down carcass, his sagging pants displaying way too much ass crack. He turned his head, his posture going rigid.
    Dash nodded and offered the traditional Mer’daca greeting. “ L’argo te .”
    The man lowered his laser torch but didn’t loosen his grip around it. Dash took it as a good sign. He’d half expected to feel the torch’s white-hot bite ripping through his flesh by now.
    â€œYou lost?”
    â€œWe’re in need of a vehicle.” Dash didn’t take his gaze off the torch’s glowing tip. “A mutual friend suggested your services.”
    â€œAin’t got no friends.” The man pointed the torch towards the exit. “Get your asses outta here.”
    â€œWe have money—lots of it,” Piper said, landing on a cart stocked with pipes and oil canisters.
    Dash groaned. No, she’s going to be the death of me.
    Greed sparkled in the mechanic’s eyes as he stared at the two bags in Mara’s hands. Licking his fleshy lips, he stepped forward, unconcerned when the torch’s beam flicked dangerously close to Piper’s wings. Saved from a singeing, the sprite squealed and scrambled behind a canister.
    The mechanic lunged for Mara.
    Here we go. Dash leapt between them and grabbed the beefy arm holding the torch. He gave a vicious tug, but the mechanic possessed lightning reflexes and plowed a ham-hock-sized fist into his jaw.
    Stars spinning in his vision, Dash staggered sideways, taking the mechanic with him. He jerked away when the torch’s tip arced upward. Not quick enough. The crispy scent of fried hair competed with oil and paint fumes. Shit .
    A rusty laugh rattled from the mechanic. Victory swam in the oily blackness of his eyes as he drew his arm back. Dash was prepared this time. His fist crunched into the man’s bulbous nose. Thunk. The mechanic’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the stained concrete.
    What the hell? Dash stared at his fist. “Didn’t even put much swing behind it.”
    â€œI did.”
    He lifted his head. Mara clutched one of the cart’s steel pipes in her hand.
    â€œStill wish I’d waited outside?” She twirled the pipe in a flashy show.
    â€œI had the situation handled.” Ignoring her derisive snort, he snagged the torch and clicked it off. He assessed the assorted vehicles scattered around the garage and decided on a dark blue Cloud Chaser . Solar powered, roomy and practical. Definitely not his style, which would throw off his enemies.
    He strode to the cart and planted a knee on the floor. The third drawer contained a steel box. He made quick work springing the lock with a wire filched from another drawer and pulled out a