The information was given, the money transferred. So much money and neither of them blinked an eye. She was so out of her league.
“I have your money. What is to stop me from killing you?”
“Greed.” Zaxe tucked his communicator away. “That and the fact that the wire transfer will allow the people on the other end to track you if something happens to me.”
It was dangerous and brilliant and something she would never have thought to do. But you had to have friends willing to risk their lives for you to pull something like that off.
“Not possible.” Reman tossed back the last of his wine. “It is totally secure.”
“Not to the people I work with.” Zaxe rose and held his hand out to her. While she’d prefer to get up on her own, it was better to take it than to try to stand and then end up on her butt because her legs wouldn’t hold her. He gave her fingers an extra squeeze before releasing her. “I held up my part of the bargain,” he reminded Reman.
“So you did. The last location I have for Helldrick is in a community of outcasts on the edge of the Edowan Dessert. I’m sure you can find a guide to take you at least part of the way.”
Zaxe gave a short nod and pulled his hood up. They were halfway across the room when Reman called out. “You can go. Not her. She owes me payment for the dishonor shown to me this evening.”
She wanted to run, but getting shot in the back was the likely outcome of that. “You got what you came for,” she cautioned Zaxe. “Go.”
“What about you?” His voice was oddly flat.
“I’ll figure something out. I always do.” She’d find some way to diffuse Reman’s anger. Zaxe had to get out of here before Reman changed his mind and killed them both.
Chapter Five
The woman had no sense of self-preservation. She was always trying to protect people. First her bother and now him. And this was the second time today she’d put herself in jeopardy for him.
He could kill Reman and his guards, but that would only bring trouble. Better to leave them alive for now and come back for them at a later date. “I don’t have the time or patience to find another guide.” Zaxe met Reman’s gaze. “And as I said, time is of the essence.”
The bastard was enjoying himself. His type got his kicks from manipulating other people, making them dance to his tune, hurting them for his entertainment. “I will give you a guide.”
Zaxe shook his head. “Forgive me, but I wouldn’t trust anyone you’d offer.”
Reman’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. It was curious that he prized his honor so much, considering he had no trouble breaking laws or using people. But people were funny. Look at him. Didn’t he have his own code of conduct? As an assassin, one who’d killed on command, he had no room to cast stones. Only he’d killed to protect those he loved. Reman killed solely for profit and because he enjoyed it.
“Once again, you question my honor.”
“I don’t know you.” Best to be blunt. “You may have a reputation around here, but I only have her word that you’re reliable.”
Jamaeh’s eyes flashed with anger before being quickly banked.
“Seeing how you’ve treated her, I have to question that.”
Reman’s face was growing more flushed by the second.
“You’ve recouped your money from Helldrick with the promise of doubling it if I can act on the information you’ve given me. Jamaeh lives here. Not like you can’t find her when this is done.”
The glare she gave him should have melted him on the spot. Good thing he liked the heat. He’d be lucky if she didn’t gut him with the knife strapped to her waist instead of guiding him.
Reman threw back his head and laughed. “You are quite the mercenary. I understand that.” He waved his hand in front of him, like some benevolent ruler granting a favor to one of his subjects. “She may go with you, but one of my men will accompany you. To oversee my investment, of course.”
Zaxe tilted his head to one side. “Is this where I complain you’re questioning my honor?”
“I have only your word you’ll pay me if you find Helldrick. Consider it extra help.” He snapped his fingers, and a huge man stepped into the room. He had several inches on Zaxe and appeared more battle-hardened than the other guards. “This is Baraj. He will go with you and bring you back here once you’re finished dealing with Helldrick.”
“We’re so dead.”
Jamaeh’s whisper irritated him. Did she think him incapable of dealing with Reman’s paid killer?
She has no idea who I am.
And he didn’t know her either. It was a harsh reminder that they both had agendas. While she’d come to his aid before, she’d likely betray him in a heartbeat to protect her brother. He’d do well to remember that.
Zaxe gave Reman a short bow that bordered on insolent and left, but not before his keen hearing picked up Reman’s next order. “I want to know everything about this man.” It wasn’t surprising. He expected to be investigated. He’d assumed there would be no problem in that area considering he’d left here as a child and his history since was protected. But after his discussion with the vendor earlier today, his past could be a huge problem. Reman’s people would be showing his picture everywhere and asking questions.
Was the elderly vendor in danger?
He hoped not, but approaching him to give warning would only bring more danger to his door. It had never been his intention to put others in harm’s way. He’d only started his mission this morning and already the two people who’d helped him were at risk.
This was why he preferred being a silent assassin. Get in and out without being seen or heard.
But this job wasn’t like any of the others. For one thing, this was one he’d chosen to do, not one he’d been forced to take on to save his family. His sisters would live whether he succeeded or not, but accomplishing the mission would cancel a debt he owed Gravas and gain him the goodwill of a powerful ally.
Jamaeh was beside him as they silently made their way through the outer restaurant and stepped out onto the street. It was quieter, but the streets were far from empty. “What now?” she muttered.
“Now we go to your place.” He counted off the seconds, waiting for the explosion.
She whirled around and slapped her hand against his chest. “Are you out of your mind? No, don’t answer that. I know you’re crazy. Why else would you have insulted Reman and then hand over fifty thousand credits without blinking an eye. Fifty thousand.” A muscle under her eye twitched.
“It’s not my money. My employer can bear the cost.” He was very aware of Reman’s man watching and listening from several feet away.
“And who is this mysterious employer?” She was trembling. Not with fear but fury. Every muscle in her lithe body was coiled as she began to pace before him. She stopped suddenly and glared at him. “Wait, you can’t tell me, because then you’d have to kill me.”
He inclined his head, letting her draw her own conclusions.
“You’re maddening. All men are maddening.” She spun around and stalked down the street.
Zaxe glanced at their new shadow. “Coming?” There was no reply, but Baraj did fall into step behind him as they followed Jamaeh. People glanced in their direction but quickly looked away once their gaze fell on Baraj. A man like that, considering the job he did, would have a reputation that preceded him.
Jamaeh picked up her pace. She was trying to lose him. Her courage was admirable, but it would do her no good. He knew where she lived and would venture that their shadow did as well. If she’d done business with Reman before—and didn’t that make his blood run cold—he’d know her address, no matter how well she thought herself hidden.
He walked faster, easily falling into step beside her. “Don’t run.”
“Think I can’t evade you? This is my city.”
She was so independent, so self-assured, he hated to burst her bubble, but her safety came before her ego. “I know you can’t. Furthermore, you
can be assured Reman knows where you live.”
He waited for the denial, but again, she surprised him. “You’re right.” She rubbed a hand over her face and dug her thumb and forefinger into the inner corners of her eyes, as if trying to relieve the pressure there. “He knows everything. By the hells of Melton, you probably already know where I live.”
“Yes.” He might not tell her the truth about himself, but he wouldn’t lie to her.
Her shoulders slumped slightly. He wanted to offer comfort. The need so foreign, he almost didn’t recognize it. Zaxe loved his sisters, but given their upbringing and training, he’d forced himself not to comfort, instead encouraging them to be stronger, more self-sufficient. It had kept them all alive, but it had hurt him in ways he’d never truly understood. Now those long-neglected urges were roaring to life, demanding release.
He reached out a hand and then pulled it back. An emotional involvement wouldn’t do either of them any good, especially not with Baraj watching and listening. Everything they said and did would be reported back to his boss and used against them.
“We should hurry. We have plans to make.” Frustration made the words come out gruffer than he’d intended. Her spine straightened, and her eyes snapped with anger.
“Of course. Sorry for the delay. I don’t want to hold up your plans.” The sarcasm was as sharp as a blade. Jamaeh was one tough lady. Life had left her little choice.
He understood her better than she knew.
There was little chatter as they wound through the side streets, the residences getting smaller and not as well kept as they went. An air of desperation permeated the lane she turned up. The buildings were narrow and jammed next to one another, with no space wasted. These were not private homes, but apartment buildings three floors high.
The itch between his shoulder blades worsened. There were eyes on them beyond Baraj’s. The silence screamed. The tension could snap any moment.
“They’re with me,” Jamaeh announced.
The neighborhood seemed to release a collective sigh. Zaxe caught the slightest movement from several windows. This might not be the best part of the city, but it seemed people looked out for one another here.
Or maybe they were just on the lookout for an opportunity.
She pulled a set of keys out of her pants pocket and unlocked an outer door. The vestibule was large enough for only one of them at a time. The inner door was opened and they followed her inside. The stairs were narrow. They single-filed it up to the top floor where she unlocked a door painted a shocking purple.
“You stay outside,” he told Baraj.
“I’m to watch you.”
“And you can. From out here. You’ll hear it if we try to leave. Better yet, watch from the street. You can see all the windows from here.” Jamaeh’s apartment faced the street.
Baraj shook his head. “Might be a back door.”
“Call in another man to help. You’re not coming inside.”
When he shifted his weight in preparation to walk forward, Zaxe held up his hand. “Fifty thousand Alliance credits are on the line. You contact Reman. You step one foot inside this home and the deal is off.” Zaxe allowed himself a smile. “And then I’ll kill you.”
Baraj grunted, a sound of disbelief and disagreement, but he did pull out his communicator. This was the type who followed instructions to the letter. How had he come to be in Reman’s employ? It might have no bearing on his mission, but you never knew what information might come in handy.
The conversation was short. “More men are coming. I’ll be outside.”
That battle easily won, he stepped over the threshold to Jamaeh’s home. This war was just beginning.
****
Jamaeh stopped just inside the door and shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation. Zaxe had found a way to keep Reman’s killer out of her home. That was one intrusion she wouldn’t have to deal with. Bad enough that Zaxe would invade her home.
Baraj would taint it. Zaxe would leave an indelible mark.
There was a huge difference. It would be easier if Baraj was the one coming into her home. She knew what to expect from him. Zaxe was an enigma. There were layers to this man she might never uncover.
The man was dangerous to her on so many levels.
When he stepped inside and secured the door, she hurried to the kitchen area a few steps away. The place wasn’t exactly large. What would he think of her home? Not that she really cared, but it was a reflection of her, the person she truly was, not the one she’d been forced to be by circumstance.
She tried to see it from his perspective. The walls had been painted a pale teal, the perfect backdrop for the low purple sofa and the rainbow of colorful pillows that doubled as extra seating when necessary. The two-seater table, which separated the kitchen from the living area, was a deeper blue. The matching chairs had been hand-painted with flowers and vines. There were privacy screens on the windows, but colorful scarves draped over them. The lighting was muted, and something she only used when absolutely necessary. In the daytime, the sunlight poured in from outside, making the room glow like a jewel. It was a sharp contrast from the world outside. It was her home, her haven.
Zaxe stood, hands on his hips, and made a slow study of the place. She fought the urge to fidget. “I’m making tea.” She’d really like something stronger but needed her head clear. After filling the kettle and setting it on the two-burner cooker, she took down two pottery mugs. Anything to keep busy so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
Leaning against the counter, she lowered her head and took a deep breath. He’d stepped in to keep Reman from having his men strip her. But only because he wants me to guide him, a more cynical part of her responded. But guides could be had for a small payment.
He trusts me.
Or maybe he figures I’ll be easier to dispose of when this is done.
Her thoughts kept circling. Trying to figure things out was going to drive her mad. She didn’t know him, couldn’t and shouldn’t assign motives to his actions. People looked out for themselves. It was always best to assume that so you didn’t get hurt.
The silence was fraying her nerves. She jerked when the kettle began to whistle. Painstakingly, she added dried mint leaves to the mesh diffusers and deposited one into each mug before adding water. Usually, she would have taken more care, enjoyed the ritual of making tea. Tonight, it was simply something to do with her hands.
Cradling her mug in her hands, she went into the living area and sat on the sofa. Zaxe was still just inside the door, watching. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped.
“An invitation.” The deep baritone sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’re already in my home.”
He lowered his hood and nodded in agreement. “That is a necessity. You’re not obligated to offer me hospitality.”
“Your hovering is getting on my nerves.” She slammed her mug down on the low wooden coffee table. “I made tea.” Not exactly the most welcoming of greetings, but she was tired and past caring about customs.
Zaxe detoured to the kitchen and retrieved the remaining mug from the counter before joining her. He lowered himself onto one of the cushions and set his drink before him. “I apologize for getting you involved in this.”
She’d expected him to launch right into his plans. What was he doing? “My fault for accepting money to guide you.” Steam rose from her mug, dancing in the faintest air current flowing through the space.
“It should have ended with Samar.”
He was right about that. “Easier to see in hindsight. And I’ve dealt with Reman before.” But tonight, a veil had been lifted. Oh, she’d known he was deadly, but it had never been focused on her before. She looked around her home, wondering if she’d see it again once they left for the Edowan Desert. Anything could happen on a normal trading trip. The desert was not a forgiving place. She usually avoided the outcasts, and now she was going in search of them. If she made it back, Reman would deman
d payment for what he perceived as a slight.
She wrapped her hands around her tea, chilled in spite of the stifling heat. Even with the sun gone down, the city hadn’t cooled much. It would get better in the coming hours.
“Did you know Helldrick was my father before tonight?” He hadn’t seemed shocked when Reman had thrown it out there.
“Yes.”
“Did you know before you hired me?” She couldn’t accuse him of seeking her out as she was the one who’d gone after him. Maybe it was fate their paths had crossed.
“Yes.”
“Why do you want Helldrick?” Even though she was certain she knew the reason, she wanted confirmation. Mouth dry, she sipped some tea. Zaxe made her nervous, and not just because he was a big, dangerous man. She should be trying to figure some way to slip away and run, but a part of her wanted to get closer, to try to understand exactly who he was.
Was that how her mother had felt about her father? That path led to destruction.
“Your father has made enemies.”
Her snort had the corners of his lips turning up slightly and the corners of his eyes crinkling. She wished he’d kept his hood up. The man revved her up, forcing her to acknowledge the sexual sizzle she experienced around him.
That was the problem, one of the reasons she hadn’t walked away when common sense dictated she should have.
Now look where I am.
“That’s an understatement. No one likes Helldrick.”
“Not even you?”
“Especially not me.” She drained her mug, set it down, and sat back. Relaxing was beyond her, but she could at least pretend. “I loathe the man.” And that was the kindest word she could come up with.
“Why?” Zaxe leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands. He really was relaxed. It was hard not to resent him for it.
“Why not? He abandoned my mother when she was pregnant. Then he came back a few years later, threw some money around, got her pregnant again, and left.” She pressed her lips together. He didn’t need to know her sordid family history.
Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas Book 4) Page 5
