“Sit.” His voice was deep, completely without an accent of any kind. When she hovered there, he extended one of his legs and pushed the chair out.
Too late to rethink this. If she turned tail and ran, the others would notice. Because they were all sure as hell watching.
Cursing her impulsive action, she took the seat and placed her ale on the table. “You’re new here.” Oh, brilliant opening. He made her nervous, something she hadn’t expected.
She’d been running around Hell’s Gate since she was a child. Had grown up around the worst criminals in the galaxies. Not that there hadn’t been some good ones, but even they’d had a code they lived by that sometimes differed from that of the Alliance law enforcement patrols.
“Yes.”
She waited several heartbeats, but that was it. The corners of her lips twitched, a combination of humor and unease. “Not much of a talker, are you?”
He shook his head.
Laughing outright, she took a sip of ale. She’d poured the good stuff for them, not the rotgut her father served most of his customers.
This newcomer intrigued her. His features were hidden in the depths of the cloak he wore to cover his head. Again, not unusual. There were plenty here on the run from the law and just as many who’d turn them in for a bounty.
Honor among thieves was little more than a fairy tale.
“What’s your name?” The challenge was on to get him to say more than one word at a time.
“Ky.”
Short and to the point. “You going to be around these parts long?”
“Depends.”
The tables around them had lost interest and gone back to their own conversations. Not that there wasn’t someone listening. Someone was always listening. Word of this incident would reach her father as soon as he turned up tomorrow. Maybe even tonight, if one of his cronies hunted him down.
She fisted her hand in her lap, anger suddenly pouring over her. “I shouldn’t be here.” Etta hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it was still the truth. And she didn’t just mean at this table talking to this man. Five long months had passed since Balthazar had shown up and destroyed her old life and her peace of mind.
She had indeed sold her soul to the devil.
Helldrick wouldn’t let her take her sisters and leave. He didn’t want them. Couldn’t care less about them. Their only use was as leverage over her. Not that he wanted her any more than he did her sisters. All he wanted was control.
No one left unless he allowed it.
The only one of them he showed any fatherly interest in was Balthazar, and that was likely because he was the only one who looked and acted like him.
“Then why are you?”
Shocked that he’d not only spoken more than one word but had also asked her a question, she was momentarily at a loss for words. Ky’s face might be hidden, but she sensed the intensity of his stare. This was a man who missed nothing.
Leaving her drink, she stood. “I’ve got to go. Enjoy your evening.” Forcing herself not to run, she strolled back to the bar, put her head down, and worked, all the while conscious of the man in the corner.
Finally, the place emptied out and closed. Ky had slipped out without her noticing when she’d gotten busy. She rubbed the back of her neck and muttered while she shut things down, locking the cash and credits in the huge safe in the office.
With the riot screens down on the windows and doors, she set the alarms and headed to the door beyond the office. Eight locks later, she shut and secured them behind her and then climbed up the stairs to the rooms above.
No one was waiting when she entered and secured the final door. Leaning against the portal, she sighed, unable to let her guard down even here. She checked the entire place for hidden cameras and listening devices almost daily, coming up empty, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
Tiredness seeped into her bones and exhaustion overtook her. Working fourteen hours a day was nothing new, but the stress from everything else on top of it was taking a toll.
She pushed away from the door and silently made her way to the first bedroom. Both girls were tucked in their beds, their soft breathing a balm to her soul.
This was why she was here. This was her purpose.
“Etta?” a sleepy voice asked.
She walked over and sat on the edge of the narrow bed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” At ten, Sera was way too old for her age, her green eyes ancient in her young face.
“I sleep better when you’re here.” The simple truth was a knife in Etta’s heart. As long as her sisters were here, she was trapped.
“I’m glad.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Are you going away?”
She shook her head. “We’ve talked about this. I’m not leaving until I can take you with me.”
Sera’s eyes darkened and took on a faraway expression, as though she was seeing far beyond the boundaries of this room. “He won’t let you.”
The girls had noticed how she never called Helldrick Father and were imitating her. “We’ll figure something out, but not tonight.” She tucked the girl in and kissed her again. “I’ll see you in the morning.” After checking on Maggs, who was a sound sleeper, Etta went to her room.
The same size as the girls’, it held a slightly larger bed, a chest of drawers, and a closet. Its saving grace was the private bathing chamber, complete with a gel cleansing unit that worked most of the time.
After getting cleaned up, she crawled under the covers and closed her fingers around the handle of the knife resting under her pillow.
Chapter Two
Kyler clung to the side of the building, listening and watching Etta check on two little girls before retiring. Specialized gloves and boots made it easy for him to scale the outer wall. Muscles built from years of training and conditioning allowed him to stay there indefinitely.
He clicked through his mental files, bringing up their names and ages. Sera and Maggs Mortis—both named after the planet, as was their older sister. The girls’ skin was almost the same golden color of Etta’s hair, inherited from their mother who was originally from Darkata. Their red hair and green eyes came from their father. Their mother was deceased, but only for a matter of months.
Was that why Etta was here?
Because she’d been gone for two years, which was why there’d been only a passing mention and no recent picture of her in the file that had been compiled by the best hackers in the universe at Gravasian command.
The conversations at the nearby tables at the bar had centered on Etta. Not surprising after the earlier event. What had been a shock was that most of the men had a grudging respect for her. Even Wallace, the one she’d threatened to ban.
Etta Mortis had a way about her. It went beyond her beauty—which was exceptional—and her body—slender but with gentle curves in all the right places. There was something about her…
Innocence. That was it. She gave off a vibe of innocence that made a man want to live up to her expectations, to be better. Mixed with her obvious intelligence, it made her a very dangerous lady.
What did she know?
No time like the present to find out. She should be asleep by now. Working silently, he withdrew a tool from the slender utility belt around his waist and secured one end of it against the sturdy plasglass. He tilted the small arm of the device and turned it in a circle, silently scoring the glass with the mini laser. When he tugged, it came away easily, leaving a round hole large enough for his hand to fit through. It was child’s play to reroute the alarm, undo the lock, and raise the window. Boosting himself, he was through and inside. She hadn’t stirred. The entire operation had taken him under a minute.
For the briefest second, he hesitated. It wasn’t too late to leave.
She’s not innocent if she’s Helldrick’s daughter. And why did he care? Her only use to him was for information. Her life was not his concern.
Anger beat at the vault deep in his brain where he p
acked away his emotions. He shoved it back, covering it in a wall of icy calm.
Just do it.
Moving swiftly, he sat on the side of her bed and put his hand over her mouth. A glint of metal flashed in his peripheral vision. Only his exceptionally fast reflexes kept the knife from slamming into his neck. He caught her arm in an iron grip and squeezed. Her bones were slender. If she didn’t release her weapon soon, he’d break them.
Distasteful but necessary.
She didn’t make a sound as she struggled, not even when he had to be hurting her. The muscles in her arm and shoulder strained. Courageous and unpredictable were added to the list of things he knew about her.
He shook her arm slightly. “Don’t make me break it.” He’d never had a problem doing what needed to be done for his missions before. This time, his gut clenched and bitterness coated his mouth. “I only want information.” His voice was pitched higher, the accent different from the one he’d used earlier. Wearing all black from head to toe, including a face covering, there was nothing to give away his identity. He’d left the cloak tucked away two alleyways over.
She was smart enough to suspect him, but there was no way she could know for certain.
Her struggle eased and she went still.
“Drop it.” No way was he releasing her until she lost the knife. She’d already proven she was more than willing to use it.
The room was dimly lit. The source was a small light strip that ran along the baseboard on one wall. It seemed unusual, so he filed the detail away for further examination later. There were many reasons people feared the dark. None of them good.
Her eyes flashed with anger and a hint of fear. He wanted to smooth the lines in her forehead.
“Do it.” His voice was little more than a toneless whisper that wouldn’t carry beyond them.
She opened her hand. He released his hold on her, caught the blade before it could hit the mattress, and slipped it into his pocket.
With a glare, she rubbed her wrist. He opened his mouth and slammed it shut, swallowing the apology hovering on his lips.
Get what you came for and get out. “You’re not going to yell, are you?”
She shook her head.
Her ready agreement raised suspicions. This woman was a fighter.
“You don’t want to wake your sisters.”
She went completely still. Pure venom and the promise of death stared back at him. He’d never harm a child, but she didn’t know that. It was an effective threat. This was the first time he’d had to use it and found it particularly distasteful.
“All I want is information,” he repeated.
She gave a slow nod, her lips moving under his palm. The unintended caress of his skin sent a bolt of heat streaking up his arm and spearing down to his groin. He swallowed a moan and cautiously lifted his hand away.
“You hurt them and I’ll gut you.”
He smiled, thankful she couldn’t see behind his mask. She’d likely make a grab for the knife and try to follow through on her threat.
“I have no interest in them.” Truth coated his words. She tried to sit up, but he wrapped his hand around her neck and pushed her back down, holding her loosely but not releasing her. Leaving her in a vulnerable position would make her talk faster. Having his fingers on her pulse allowed him to access accurate data about her physical and emotional state.
It took more than brawn to get reliable information. It was a game of psychological and emotional warfare. And he was a master.
“Where is Balthazar?”
“I knew it. What has that bastard done now?” Her fury was immediate and real. Her heart rate spiked. A muscle beneath her eye twitched. Both were involuntary reactions.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.” Her pupils remained unchanged and she kept his gaze. Either she was telling the truth or she was an exceptional liar. He had to assume the second.
“What do you know?” He rubbed his thumb up and down the slender column of her throat, cursing the micro-thin glove that was keeping him from touching her bare skin.
“I know you shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be here. Neither should the girls.” She raised her hand and rubbed her face.
Pity was an unfamiliar emotion, but he experienced it now. Maybe Etta was the master of interrogation. She was the one pushing all the right buttons, making him doubt himself.
That was his job. People were easy to manipulate once you understood what drove them. Usually, it was greed or fear. For Etta, it was her love for her sisters.
What drove him was simple—loyalty to his king and his world.
Why did it suddenly seem so hollow and empty?
“What do you know about Balthazar?” The quicker this was done, the quicker he could move on and forget her. Only he doubted he ever would. He’d known her for a matter of hours, and she’d impacted his life more than anyone had since he’d given his life over to be the king’s blade.
“He left suddenly six planetary days ago.”
“Where did he go?” A destination would give him a target, and a reason to leave Mortis as fast as possible. Both admirable and desirable goals.
She shrugged, making his thumb skim across her jawline. They both froze. Her breathing grew shallow and she swallowed heavily. “That’s all I know.”
“Will he be back?”
“I don’t know.” Her tongue slid across her bottom lip. His chest tightened. There wasn’t enough air in the room to breathe.
It was so very wrong, but the urge to kiss her, to taste those lush, perfect lips pounded at him. That would be unforgivable. And not only because it would jeopardize the mission. This woman was at his mercy. He would not stain his honor by taking something not freely given.
With deep regret, he brushed a lock of hair away from her face, pulling back when she flinched. “I’m sorry.”
Fear flooded her face. Gritting his teeth, he pressed down on several pressure points in her neck, holding them there until she went limp. He checked her pulse, relieved to find it strong and steady.
With her golden hair haloed around her head, she appeared more an angel than ever. He carefully tucked the blankets around her, returned to the window, and left as quickly as he’d arrived.
Scaling the wall back to the ground was as easy as climbing it had been. He stood in the alleyway and stared up at the hole in the plasglass. There was nothing to be done about it.
Not wanting to leave her unprotected, he eased back into the shadows and waited. Minutes ticked by. He remained rock steady, doing nothing that might bring attention to his presence.
It was almost thirty minutes later when her face appeared in the window. She looked right and left and peered at the hole before drawing the window covering. Lights came on seconds later.
The muscles in his neck and back slowly unknotted. He rolled his shoulders and began the trek back to the docking station and his ship. He’d only stayed to make sure there were no complications that might jeopardize his mission. Not because he was worried about her.
It was the first time he’d ever lied to himself.
****
Etta shivered and pulled a sweater on over her sleep shirt. Ignoring the weakness in her knees and the trembling in her body, she hurried to the girls’ room. “Let them be okay. Let them be okay.”
Barely restraining herself from slamming the door open, she eased into their room. The breath left her in a rush of relief. She grabbed the post of Sera’s bed for support when her legs threatened to give out.
They were both there and sleeping peacefully.
He hadn’t hurt them.
She rubbed her hand over her face, took a shaky breath, and left the room, even though she had the urge to lie down on the floor in front of their door to protect them.
Whoever the man was, he was gone, for now.
Her hand went to her throat. He’d held her easily. A shiver raced down her spine, even though the night heat was stifling.
Helldri
ck and Balthazar were big men, dangerous ones others feared to cross, but the dark creature who’d come out of nowhere was deadlier. More controlled, more capable of taking action without feeling any emotion.
He could have killed her.
Hurrying to the bathroom, she ignored her reflection and reached beneath the counter and grabbed the knife she’d secured there. Her fingers tightened around the hilt. The stranger had taken her other blade with astonishing ease.
No, he hadn’t taken it. He’d made her release it.
She tugged her sweater more tightly around her and peered into the mirror. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. She licked her dry lips and squared her shoulders.
“You’re safe.” Whoever he was, he was gone. But he’d be back. Tension crept up her back and down her arms. “Damn you, Balthazar.” Everything in her life had fallen apart since the day he’d shown up.
The only thing she didn’t regret was being there for her sisters. They needed her. There’d been no one to protect her after the death of her mother. There was no way her loving siblings deserved to be left with their negligent father.
She pressed her hand over her chest, wishing her mother was still here. The few memories she’d had of her had faded over time, but the love remained.
How had the intruder knocked her out? One second, she’d been staring at him. The next? Nothing.
She twisted her head from side-to-side, noting the slight smudges in two particular spots. Not really bruises, they were so faint.
This man knew what he was doing. He’d been so controlled, showing no emotion at all. Covered in black from head to toe, his features indistinguishable, all she knew about him was his size—huge—and his voice.
He was about the same size as Ky, although the build was harder to tell since he’d worn a cloak in the bar. The voice had been completely different. That could be faked. But so convincingly?
She thought back to everything the intruder had said. Not once had the accent wavered. Was it the same person or was he simply that good at disguising himself?
Turning out the bathroom light, she climbed onto her bed with her back to the headboard. A slight breeze rippled the window coverings. First thing tomorrow, she’d have to get it replaced.
Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) Page 2
