Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3)

by N. J. Walters

  This was not a face a woman would ever forget.

  The only softness at all were the thick eyelashes and full lips.

  Don’t look at his lips.

  She was staring but couldn’t stop. Mouth dry, she licked her own lips, feeling them tingle. He was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Well?” His question shook her out of her trance.

  After grabbing the bottle of water on the counter, she took a slug, then another.

  “Well what?” She’d be calm about this, even if it killed her. And spontaneous combustion was a genuine possibility. The kitchen was warmer than the bar to begin with. Now the heat was through the roof.

  The corners of his mouth twitched.

  Don’t smile. Don’t smile.

  He didn’t really smile. It was more a hint of one, but the bottom fell out of her stomach. She was freefalling through space without a suit or safety tether to bring her safely back home. In all her twenty-three years, she’d never had this kind of reaction to a man before.

  She cleared her throat. “So, Ky, do you have a last name?”

  “Just Ky.”

  “So, Just Ky.” That garnered another almost-smile that had every nerve ending in her body standing at attention in anticipation. “Why are you hanging out at Hell’s Gate?”

  There was no room for a man in her life, especially not one this dangerous. Maybe he can help you, a sly voice whispered in the back of her head. She ignored the voice. In her experience, men could be pretty to look at, but they weren’t dependable. They looked after themselves first, and she had two children relying on her.

  That sobered her quick enough.

  “I like the scenery.” His gaze ran over her from head to toe. Her nipples didn’t pucker because of him. It was the cool air system kicking in that caused it.

  She swallowed heavily, the lie stuck in her throat. If she checked, her panties would be damp. The man was a walking, talking wet dream.

  And that was all she had—dreams and fantasies. She’d never trusted a man enough to have sex. When she’d lived here, it hadn’t been an option. Everyone feared her father and brother. Once she’d escaped, she’d been too damn busy and distrustful to take a chance.

  This wasn’t the time or place to be attracted to a man, especially one she didn’t even know beyond his first name. Or was it his last? See? She didn’t know anything about him.

  “Scenery wears thin after a while.” Better to discourage him. Why did that depress her so much? There was a crate of vegetables waiting to be prepped, but for the first time, she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for cooking.

  “Not from where I’m sitting.”

  She briefly closed her eyes. He so did not just say that. She was hot and sweaty, wore no beauty enhancements of any kind, and several locks of hair fell against her neck, having escaped the knot she’d put it in earlier. When she peeked at him, he was staring. She looked away. His appearance hadn’t changed at all. He was still as gorgeous as ever. And she was as attractive as a wrung-out dishrag.

  I should never have asked him to remove his hood.

  Everything had changed, and there was no putting this genie back into the bottle. The old fairy tale her mother had once told her popped into her head. Was Ky a good genie or an evil one? Was there any way to know for sure before she was in too deep to save herself?

  “Thanks for—” She broke off, not sure how she should phrase it. She waved her hand in front of her.

  He solemnly inclined his head. “You’re welcome.”

  Ky seemed to suck the air and light out of the room with his sheer presence. She narrowed her eyes, studying him. He was the right size as her intruder, but the voice was utterly different.

  “You have a twin running around out there?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then I guess it was you who broke into my room last night.” It was a gamble to accuse him outright, but she’d left caution behind.

  He didn’t blink, his face as hard as a diamond. No, that was shiny and bright. Titansteel was a better description. She’d never seen it, but it was rumored to be the strongest metal known and was matte, not shiny. More at home in the dark. That was Ky.

  Her clothes were damp, stuck to her skin, a combination of heat and fear.

  He pushed up off the stool and strode around the counter. She backed up a step and then another until her butt hit the opposite counter. There was nowhere for her to go. All she had to do was open her mouth and scream. Dozens of men would come running, if only to see what was going on. Surely one of them would help.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. Years of dealing with scary men had taught her to feign bravery and to go on the offensive.

  “Going to the depths.” The roughness of his voice raised chill bumps on her arms. He took her face in his huge hands and leaned down. His breath was warm on her face.

  She licked her lips again. His nostrils flared.

  A yearning grew deep within her. This was likely going to rank among the top three most stupid things she’d ever done in her life, but she had to know. Going up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his.

  Chapter Four

  He was truly going to the depths of Gravas for this. It was the fiery pit at the center of the planet. The resting place of those who relinquished their honor.

  I shouldn’t be kissing her.

  She was a potential target, a mission.

  Women were to be respected and protected. That came as natural to a Gravasian male as being a warrior. It was bred into their blood and bones.

  As the king’s blade, he’d been forced to compromise those ideals. But never had he slipped over this line.

  When her lips brushed his, the universe fell away. It was like being dropped into a black hole where nothing else existed. Only Etta.

  His fingers flexed on her face, but he was careful to control his strength. He’d already bruised her, something for which he might never be able to forgive himself. They were small smudges on her neck, barely visible to the naked eye. But to him, they stood out like beacons.

  Wildflowers and spice, the scent surrounded him. Drawing on every ounce of restraint that had been trained into him from the time he was born, he didn’t push, allowing her total control over their embrace.

  The warmth from her lips seeped into him. Had he been cold? The chill was old and not one of temperature, but of temperament.

  Eyes wide open, he stared, unwilling to miss even one second of the kiss. Etta had closed hers. Strands of her golden hair had escaped the band she’d used to anchor them into a tail. They stuck to her skin, which was as pale as the snows of Killaras. But where the planet was cold and hostile, she was warm and welcoming.

  Their lips barely touched, but the impact was greater than a meteor slamming into a planet surface.

  His body was a weapon, honed to the finest edge. It did what he demanded when he demanded it. The muscles in his shoulders bunched, his biceps flexed, his abs pulled taut. His lungs burned.

  Walk away.

  It was what he should do. Heart racing, he angled his head slightly and ran the tip of his tongue across her bottom lip. She gasped and deepened the kiss. When her tongue touched his, any semblance of control vanished.

  Danger! The warning flashed and went unheeded. For the first time in his life, he no longer cared. It had been so long since he’d felt something real, something beyond duty.

  It was intoxicating.

  Just a few moments more. Surely, he’d earned that after fifteen years of loyal service. Since the age of fifteen, his life had been dedicated to the king. Who he was, what he’d been, had been wiped out of existence. Even his family hadn’t seen him. They likely wouldn’t recognize him if they did.

  And family was everything on Gravas.

  But the king’s blade could have no attachments, nothing that might make him falter in his task.

  He hadn’t known how empty his life had become until he’d me
t Etta. He cursed her even as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her warmth and the faintest hint of cinnamon.

  It was she who pulled back first. He released her immediately, letting his hands fall by his sides and curling them into fists to keep from reaching for her. He longed to trace the slight curves of her hips and breasts, to stroke her long legs, and delve between them to the very heart of her heat.

  She licked her lips, something he’d noted she did when nervous. “Um, okay, that probably shouldn’t have happened.”

  He agreed. Why then did her declaration cause his chest to tighten and ache?

  Etta pressed her fingertips against her lips and shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “I should go.” But his feet were rooted to the spot.

  Sadness seeped into her eyes, and she cast her gaze downward. Unable to leave her like this, he put two fingers beneath her chin and lifted.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  Her shrug was nonchalant, but her gaze darted everywhere but at him.

  Like a thunderbolt, it struck him. The kiss had affected her as much as it had him. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

  She finally looked up at him, a deep pink climbing up her cheekbones. “I need to…” She cleared her throat. “I need to work.” The knife she lifted shook, but she grabbed a bunch of carrots and began to prep them.

  The door beckoned. Time to head back to his ship and regroup. This mission was tying him in knots. Something he couldn’t afford. To fail would bring shame on himself and his family line.

  For as much as they would no longer recognize him, they and the king both knew from where he hailed. Honor was everything to a Gravasian warrior. To an assassin, it was unassailable.

  For the king’s blade, it was titansteel.

  One of the waitresses stuck her head in the doorway. Kyler turned away and pulled his hood up before she got a glimpse of his face. She looked from Etta to him and back again. “Ah, I know the kitchen is closed, but a regular wanted to know if you had a bowl of soup. Or anything really. He’s not picky.”

  “If I do that, I’ll have more orders,” she griped. Etta swiped the back of her hand over her forehead, huffed out a breath, and went to the sink. She cleansed her hands and then ladled up a bowl of soup from a big pot on the back of the industrial cooker. “Here.” As the waitress came forward, she added a crusty roll.

  The waitress sidled closer to Etta. “Everything okay in here?”

  That was his cue to leave. Without a goodbye, he left the heat of the kitchen behind, but it was Etta’s warmth he missed. The further he got from her, the more the ice around his heart solidified until it was once again impenetrable. The outer layer might have melted, but there were many between it and the organ it protected.

  Awareness flooded him, his senses coming back online. More than a few eyes were on him as he left Hell’s Gate and began the trek back to the docking station and his ship. Going into the kitchen with her had been a foolish thing to do. It had brought even more unwanted attention. Something he couldn’t afford.

  Two sets of footsteps sounded behind him.

  Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad move after all. Seemed it had shaken up a few people. Curious, he ducked into an alleyway and waited.

  “You sure he went this way?” a male voice asked.

  “Yes. And keep it down.”

  The two men were almost to his location.

  “Why are we following him?”

  “Balthazar is paying us to make sure Etta don’t run off. Maybe she’s trying to convince this stranger to take her. We need to have a little talk with him.”

  They passed by without even glancing into the alley. He slipped out behind them. “What do you want to talk about?” He kept his voice level and unthreatening. Information was what he needed most. And dead men didn’t talk.

  The two of them whirled around and took a step back. They were almost identical in size, but that was the only thing they had in common. One had skin as dark as ebony. The other had pale-blue skin, probably a mixed race, partially Crebian and a paler skinned people.

  The mixed-race male stepped forward. “You need to stay away from Etta.”

  Kyler remained silent, knowing that would disconcert them. Having his features hidden, when added to his size, made people uncomfortable. And uncomfortable people tended to talk more.

  “Don’t believe whatever sob story she weaves. She ain’t got money enough to pay you to take on Balthazar.”

  “Who is Balthazar?” Better to play it dumb.

  The other man’s mouth dropped. “You don’t know Balthazar? He’s Etta’s brother.”

  “Half-brother,” the other corrected. “But he’s a right bastard. He’ll chase you to the ends of the universe if you take her.”

  “Good to know.” And a possible way to draw the man out. If she was so desperate to be gone from here, she might jump at the chance, even though she suspected him of being her intruder.

  When the men added nothing more, he walked around them and resumed the trek back to his ship. He had a lot to consider.

  ****

  “Are you okay?” The worry in Sera’s voice snapped Etta out of her thoughts. She’d spent a very hot and restless night reliving the kiss with Ky. The heat from his mouth against hers, the languid way his tongue had dipped inside and explored.

  She fought the urge to fan herself, even though her cheeks were warm and flushed. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t been. That was the problem. And he’d never come right out and denied he’d been her intruder. That, more than anything, solidified her suspicion.

  He was her enemy. The compliments, the hot, yet, sweet kiss, were probably designed to gain her trust so she’d spill any and all secrets. The heat drained away, leaving her with a heavy lump in the pit of her stomach.

  Did she want it to be real? To mean anything?

  “I’m fine.” She rubbed her hand over her sister’s flaming locks. She’d worry about Ky later. Right now, there were two little girls who needed and deserved her full attention.

  It was rare for them to be down in the bar. Their mother had insulated them as much as possible from their Hell’s Gate and their father, but they were smart, for all their young ages.

  Keeping them in the dark wouldn’t do them any favors, especially if she wasn’t around to protect them. Her stomach roiled, but she ignored it and forced a smile.

  There was still plenty of time before opening. The only people around were staff, and the girls were in the kitchen with her.

  Maggs was perched on a stool, a data pad and stylus in her tiny hands, creating another amazing drawing. She was only six, but her detailed sketches had already sold under a pseudonym for large sums of money—something their mother had done without Helldrick’s knowledge.

  So young, but they were already adept at keeping secrets.

  The money was sitting in a secret account that only the girls had access to. Etta planned to keep adding to it when she could, to help secure her sisters’ futures.

  Sera glanced at her sister. “Something is wrong. Is it Father or Balthazar?” The acceptance in her voice hurt Etta’s heart.

  “No, sweetheart. I’ve got a lot on my mind, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.” Yeah, right. Her mother had given her that line as a child, and she’d never believed it.

  Looking skeptical and years older than she should, Sera nodded and went back to mixing dough for cookies. The sweet scent of ginger and cloves perfumed the air. The promise of a treat was what had drawn them here. It bothered Etta that neither girl ever asked to leave the rooms above. It wasn’t natural for them to be cooped up inside all day.

  She should know. Her childhood had been far too similar.

  It was her mission in life to bring them some joy. She wanted to see them smile, hear them laugh.

  “That looks good,” she praised.

  Sera stuck her finger in the bowl, swiped up some of the dough, and lic
ked. “Tastes good.”

  “Hmm. I can’t take your word for that.” Quick as a wink, she dipped into the bowl and stuck her finger in her mouth. “You’re right.”

  “Me, too.” Maggs set her data pad aside and bounced on the stool, her red ponytail swinging from side to side.

  Etta reached across the counter and dragged the girl into her arms. She was small and slight with a huge heart. “Here you go, baby.” She lowered her so she could poke her finger into the bowl. “What do you think?”

  “Good.” With a decisive nod, she wiggled in Etta’s arms. Knowing what she wanted, Etta placed her back on the stool. Maggs never had much to say. It worried her that the girl spent so much time on her art, but it made her happy.

  It didn’t take long to roll and cut the dough into various shapes and bake it. Since Sera wanted to do it on her own, Etta allowed her but hovered close, keeping a watchful eye. Cooking gave a person a sense of accomplishment and pride. There was an immediate reward for the work done.

  When the first batch came out of the oven, Maggs turned off her data pad, her eyes wide as Sera placed a circle and a triangle cookie on her plate. Why her sister had chosen geometric shapes, she had no idea.

  Maggs’s eyes widened. “They’re perfect.”

  Sera started to smile, but then her head snapped toward the door. “He’s coming.”

  Etta snatched up the data pad and shoved it to the bottom of the crate of vegetables waiting to be processed. Better not to tempt fate.

  “All my girls in one spot.” Helldrick filled the doorway as his booming voice filled the room. What should have been a friendly greeting carried a note of suspicion layered with threats. Gray strands streaked through his red hair and beard. The thirty pounds he’d put on in the years she was away added to his already impressive bulk. But the lines had deepened around his eyes and mouth and he moved slower than he had.

  Did he have regrets in his life?

  Doubtful. He was too set in his ways, too fond of the games he played with people’s lives and money.

  She pushed the rack of cooling cookies toward him. “Have one.” Both girls had fallen silent, their gazes downcast. They were no happier to see him than she was.