Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas Book 4)

by N. J. Walters

  Frustration pounded in her skull, making her temples throb. Her hands curled into fists. The longer Esau was with Helldrick, the greater chance there was of something happening to him.

  “If no one arrives tomorrow, we will continue on.” Zaxe’s announcement took them aback. Even Qasim seemed shocked. So was she. She’d wrongfully assumed he’d want to sit tight until they had a more concrete idea of where to go next.

  “The desert is not a place to travel alone.”

  “He won’t be alone,” she interjected. No way was he leaving her behind.

  “I’m sorry, my dear,” Qasim continued, “but the desert is no place for either of you. Only the strongest survive. You may have been born here, but you have been away a long time,” he told Zaxe.

  “I have survived worse.” Zaxe was totally relaxed and it wasn’t a pose. He really wasn’t the least bit concerned about having to trek deeper into the desert.

  “You killed Reman’s man,” Qasim reminded him. His brow was furrowed, his gaze grave. For the first time since they’d met, the older man appeared worried.

  “I’ll deal with him when I’m done with Helldrick.”

  Qasim rubbed a hand over his face. “My son, I don’t doubt you are a great warrior, but it does not pay to be reckless.”

  She found herself nodding, which was ridiculous. She wanted to find Helldrick as badly as he did, maybe even more so.

  “I’m no warrior.” Zaxe’s voice was oddly flat and emotionless.

  The very air around them seemed to still. No clothing rustled, no one coughed or cleared their throat. The silence was complete, everyone seeming to hold their breath.

  “I’m an assassin.”

  ****

  Zaxe would normally have cut out his own tongue before sharing unnecessary information, but he didn’t like the way Qasim was watching him. There was no doubt the leader of this tribe had an idea of Zaxe’s true identity. It was best to discourage any notion that he was some hero returning home to save his people.

  That was not who he was.

  It could be.

  He stifled the voice before it got any louder. He had a mission to accomplish. Then he was leaving. And he was taking Jamaeh with him, if she wished to go. The universe was large enough for him to find a place where no one knew of either of his pasts, a place where he could finally be himself.

  Whoever that was.

  Everyone had been shocked into silence. Surely, they’d already guessed that after the way they’d taken out Helldrick’s men at the canyon. Or maybe Qasim assumed Reman’s man had done most of the actual killing.

  “I see.” It was difficult to judge if there was disappointment or acceptance in the old man’s voice. “You have lived a difficult life.”

  If he was trying to offer Zaxe an excuse, he wasn’t taking it. “It’s the only life I’ve known.” And he wasn’t ashamed of anything he’d done as it had kept his sisters alive. That was his goal, then and now.

  Jamaeh’s hand rested on his back. The unexpected show of support grounded him. She understood what it meant to have to step outside society’s norms to survive. These were outcasts, men and women who by choice or life issues had made a home far away from the city and governing leaders, away from the rules that governed normal life. Yet even here, they held on to many of those strictures.

  He hadn’t had the luxury. And neither had Jamaeh.

  “We will leave now if you’d prefer. It was not my intention to upset you or your people or take advantage of your hospitality. You have shown us great kindness.”

  “You will stay the night. In the morning, we will decide what is to be done.”

  Zaxe nodded, more to appease the man than agree with him.

  “We will have music now.” Qasim motioned to a group of men off to the side, and drum and pipe music filled the air, driving away the somber mood of moments before. “Dance. Eat. Enjoy. For who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  He was right about that. Zaxe rose and held out his hand to Jamaeh. When she took it, he pulled her to her feet. “Dance with me.”

  “I don’t know how.” Her low reply would reach no other ears but his.

  His heart broke for her. She’d lived a very restricted life, unable to enjoy the simple pleasures of society. While his life had been regimented, he’d been trained for any eventuality, which had even including dance lessons. “I will show you.”

  As they skirted the fire, he kept one hand on her back to make sure no one bumped her. It was also a sign to the others that she was with him, that he would protect her. He’d seen the disapproving looks she’d received from some of the members of the small tribe. No doubt she had too, but she kept her chin up, not allowing them to cow her.

  Several couples were moving in a complicated dance while the children jumped and twirled and tried to imitate their parents. “I hope you don’t regret this. I may step on your feet.” She tucked a skinny braid behind an ear and shuffled in place.

  Her uncertainty was endearing, her willingness to try utterly charming. “I won’t.” He put one hand on her waist and held the other up. She clasped it and put her other hand on his shoulder.

  “I hope I don’t,” she muttered.

  With a grin, he took her into a slow spin. Jamaeh was light on her feet and caught the rhythm quickly, moving to the beat of the drums. Keeping a watch on the others around him, he took a turn faster this time. She threw back her head and laughed, the purity of her enjoyment mirroring that of the children. In spite of the hardships visited upon her, there was a bedrock of goodness inside her. It made him feel old and jaded, even as it drew him.

  “This is such fun. I always thought it would be.” The hood of her cloak fell and her braids danced around her shoulders.

  Lust hit him like a laser blast to the chest. Between one breath and the next, his body was rock hard, his cock straining against his battlesuit. He grasped her closer, making her smile turn to a frown.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and eased them to the edges of the dancers, still keeping them moving in tune with the music. She was watching her surroundings now, all her pleasure gone, the worry returned. It made him want to roar at the gods, but that was an exercise in futility.

  “There is nothing wrong.” He slid his hand around to the small of her back and pulled her against him, letting her feel the hard press of his erection.

  “Oh.” Her slender throat rippled when she swallowed. Her nostrils flared, and her eyes glazed over. If he tossed her over his shoulder and took her back to the hut they’d been assigned, no one would stop him, least of all Jamaeh.

  That wouldn’t be smart. Bad enough that he’d let his guard down this afternoon. To do so this evening would be foolish. But he could give them both the pleasure of the dance. She didn’t object as he drew her deeper into the shadows. The laughter and voices fell away.

  She swayed to the fainter strains of music, her breasts pressed against his chest, one of her feet between his so their lower bodies aligned. “I like dancing.” Arousal deepened her voice.

  His clothing was way too constricting. If they were simply a man and a woman, he’d grab a blanket and lead her into the desert and make love to her under the stars and moon.

  “I’m glad.” He barely swallowed a moan when she circled her hips against his, her mound warm against his straining cock. Keep dancing. Discipline had never been difficult, but like an untried youth, he quivered in anticipation, his heart pounding and his breathing increasing.

  He slid his hand up her spine and cupped the back of her head, pressing it against him. She snuggled next to his heart and sighed. The music slowed, as did they. When another lively turn began, they remained still, their bodies aligned.

  Zaxe closed his eyes and absorbed the moment. The scent of fire, the satisfaction from the delicious meal, and the dry night air. The sound of the drum and pipes and happy voices. The way Jamaeh rested against him, her breathing fast, and her hand on his waist gripping him
hard. Using his chin, he nudged her until she looked up. He cursed the darkness keeping him from seeing her better, but he knew the slope of her nose, the high cheekbones, and full lips well enough to draw them from memory. Her form was indelibly etched on his soul.

  When he lowered his head, she came up on her toes to meet him. Her lips grazed his, mint and spices and hot woman. He licked at her bottom lip and then nipped it, loving the way her breath caught and the low moan that escaped. She explored in return, more confident than she’d been the first time, eager to take what she wanted.

  His body shook under the restraint. There could be no more than a kiss tonight, but this one would be one for the ages. He swept his tongue into her mouth, laying claim. She met the challenge, advancing and retreating, teasing him until his balls threatened to explode. He kept his hand on the back of her head so she wouldn’t leave before he’d had his fill. Not that she seemed in any hurry. She clung to him, rubbing her breasts against him. If she was anything like him, she was aching with barely suppressed need.

  “Did you see the way she walked over to the men? Bold as brass.”

  Zaxe went totally still and squeezed Jamaeh, urging her to stillness. The women were getting closer.

  “What can you expect, considering she’s traveling alone with a man?”

  “Hush, you two,” an older woman scolded. “She has no family other than a younger brother. Be grateful you do not walk in her shoes.”

  Jamaeh stiffened in his arms as the voices receded. When she tried to move away, he tightened his hold and lightly shook his head. They needed to wait a bit longer. He should have heard them coming long before they’d gotten close, but he’d been distracted.

  When he was certain it was safe, he stepped back. “We need to return to our sleeping quarters.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jamaeh tugged her hood over her face as she followed Zaxe. He’d gone from molten hot to icy cold in a heartbeat. Only a short time ago, she would have assumed it was because of what the women had said, the reminder that she wasn’t deemed as worthy as most women. After spending time with him, she was more inclined to believe he was blaming himself for not being more aware of their surroundings.

  She hadn’t heard the women coming, but she wasn’t an assassin. How did one even become one? Didn’t seem like a vocation one voluntarily chose, but what did she really know about it?

  Look at her father. The man lived to lie and cheat. Maybe it was genetic. She shook her head, denying the very idea. If that was the case, both she and Esau were doomed. And that, she would not believe.

  No, circumstance combined with genetics and upbringing to mold people. Then there was choice. How much of his life had been his choice? She was familiar with having limited options. You did what you had to in order to live.

  She would not allow the pleasure of their dance to be eclipsed by the nasty words of a few women. The memory was one she’d hold close to her heart and cherish. Dancing was something she’d always watched but had never participated in. No one had ever asked. She’d tried to memorize the steps, practicing at home in case the opportunity had ever arisen.

  The reality was nothing like her fantasies. First of all, practicing by herself was nothing like actually doing it with a partner. Second of all, Zaxe was no mystery man, but a hot-blooded male, very real and very aroused.

  Dancing was sensual by nature, a part of the courtship between men and women. A slight touch, a quick glance, all meant so much. All her senses had been attuned to him. It was the man, not the twists and turns, that had left her breathless.

  The area was deserted, the rest of the village back at the feast. “We should have said good night and thanked Qasim.” It was a grave oversight, could be viewed as an insult.

  “He’ll forgive us.” Like a wraith, Zaxe slid silently through the shadows. She had to hurry to keep up, sometimes losing him momentarily. She finally released a breath when they reached their destination. If there were sentries, she couldn’t see them.

  He opened the door and held it. It was wicked of her, but she deliberately brushed against him as she passed. The slight hitch in his breath reassured her that he wasn’t quite as cool as he seemed.

  If she was tense and frustrated, he should be, too. Maybe that wasn’t fair, but she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be reasonable. Her body was hot and she ached for his touch. Now that she understood what sex with him was like, she craved more.

  Fighting the urge to go to him, she walked to the table and lit a small lantern before dropping onto one of the chairs. He shut the door and frowned at the wooden panel.

  “What’s the plan?” She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the zing that ran straight to her core when she brushed her nipples. Didn’t matter there was a shirt and binding around them. They were ultra-sensitive.

  “Wait until morning. Leave by midday if none of Helldrick’s men show.” Zaxe retrieved one of the washbowls and set it in front of the door. If someone opened it, they’d strike it, making a noise. Simple but effective.

  “Do you think Qasim is telling the truth about that?” It had occurred to her that the wily old man might have his own agenda. She hated to think he’d betray them, but it was a possibility.

  Zaxe shrugged. “Maybe.”

  She lowered her hood and dragged her fingers over her braids. The food and dance had given her some energy, but exhaustion had caught up to her and was making it difficult to think straight. “Surely you’ve got more than that. Do you think he sent someone to warn Helldrick or to bring him here?”

  “Doesn’t matter as long as I find him.” Zaxe lowered himself to the floor, back to the wall, legs out in front of him, looking for all the world like a man totally relaxed.

  “And kill him. That’s the mission, right?” Why was she being so bitchy? She rubbed her hand over her face and smothered a yawn. He’d been upfront with her from the beginning.

  “That’s always been the mission.” His reasonable tone made her want to kick him.

  She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. “I know.” She had to get it together. The last thing she needed was him deciding she was too much trouble and possibly slipping away on his own. “I’m worried about my brother.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  Jamaeh sat back. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is he like Helldrick?”

  “He’s nothing like Helldrick,” she snapped.

  “You’re his sister. You might not be the best judge of that.”

  She catapulted from the chair and stalked across the room to stand over him. He cocked a brow, but other than that, wasn’t the least bit concerned by her outburst. “I know my brother, you don’t.”

  “True.”

  All the fight drained out of her. “What do you want?” She was too tired to figure it out. He took her hand and pulled her down, not beside him, but on his lap. She should object, should get up. She rested her head against his shoulder.

  “I want you to tell me about him. Who are his friends? How does he spend his time?”

  Jamaeh almost refused, but she wanted Zaxe to see Esau as she did. “Everyone likes Esau.” Even to herself she sounded defiant. She took a breath. “He always has a smile, sees the humor in a situation. He helps out where he can, is learning carpentry skills from a neighbor.”

  “But who are his friends?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. “There’s no one in particular.” It hadn’t seemed odd to her since she had no female friends. “He’s friendly with everyone.”

  Zaxe rubbed his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. “He feels as alone as you do, looking for a place to truly belong.”

  “You’re right.” Stricken, she swallowed heavily. “How could I not have seen? Not have known?”

  “You’ve been busy providing for him, keeping a roof over his head.”

  “He works.” She didn’t want Zaxe to think Esau was a drain on their finances. “Since he was a child, he’s
found a way to earn money. He’s always brought it home, proud to tell me what he’s done.”

  “And would working with his father allow him to provide for you, the sister he loves and who has taken care of him his entire life?”

  Fear gripped her heart. “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Uncertainly dug in its sharp talons, refusing to let go. “He knows how I feel about Helldrick. He wouldn’t work with him.”

  “He went with him.”

  The logic just about broke her. “Why are you doing this?” She dragged herself out of his arms and stumbled over to sit on the side of the bed. The battle in the canyon hadn’t left her this battered and hurt.

  “I don’t want you blindsided if that’s the case. Maybe it was nothing more than a son wanting his father’s attention. Esau left without telling you, right?”

  “Yes. It’s why I’m so worried. He always tells me where he’s going. He knows I worry.”

  Zaxe’s eyes darkened and he nodded. “Maybe Helldrick tricked him somehow.”

  “Maybe.” But she was no longer certain.

  “You should try to get some sleep.” He pulled his cloak around him and closed his eyes. The lamplight flickered over his dark skin, making him appear almost otherworldly.

  The fanciful thought made her shake her head. He was a flesh and blood man, sexy and aggravating. “You can’t honestly expect me to sleep now.” Even as she said it, she yawned.

  “There’s no point in worrying about something you can’t change. All you can do is deal with things as they come at you.”

  “Is that what you do?” She lowered herself, sighing when her head hit the single pillow. Grabbing the blanket, she tugged it over her, snuggling under the warmth.