Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3)

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Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) Page 5

by N. J. Walters


  “I’ll try one.” He stuck one in his mouth and chewed. “Good.” Piling the other nine from the rack into his huge hand and snatching the two from Maggs’s plate, he turned to leave.

  That was it? That was all he had to say?

  “Where have you been?”

  He slowly turned, pinning her with a glare. “Are you questioning me, girl?” There was a time that would have sent her scurrying away. Helldrick had huge fists and wasn’t afraid to use them.

  Sera crept to her sister, helped her down from the stool, and took her to the corner of the room.

  The devil saw it and was pleased, pleased his children feared him. “People have been wondering where you’ve been.” Best to keep his attention on her.

  “What people?” He took a step forward. Memories of past punishments flashed in her brain. Her knees trembled, but she locked them to keep from cowering.

  “Regular customers want to know where you are. Your absence has been noticed.”

  “It’s none of their business what I do.” He came toward her, his steps measured. “Just as it’s none of yours. You stay in the kitchen and cook. That’s all you’re good for.”

  She tilted her chin up, refusing to back down. “And that skill is making this place good money.” It was the one place where he couldn’t strip away the pride she’d built.

  His chuckle was pure evil. “Oh, I know how good it is.” He leaned inward, his breath stinking of ale. “Your brother told me what you did.”

  She pressed her hand against her stomach. Don’t throw up. Swallowing hard, she didn’t look away.

  “Think you’re brave, do you?” His lips were almost touching her ear, he was so close, his breath hot against her skin. She wanted to bolt, but held her ground. Helldrick was a predator, if she ran, he’d chase her down and it would go worse for her.

  “The man you drugged had Gravasian tech on him. That’s what your brother wanted. Now most everyone involved in his scheme is dead.”

  She swayed, her head spinning. Gravasian? Balthazar was insane. Little was known about the technically advanced, secretive people. Only that you didn’t fuck with them if you wanted to live. Their assassins were feared by all, even Helldrick.

  “Count your lucky stars I’m letting you stay here.” He popped another cookie in his mouth and chewed. “I bet they’d pay for information about you.”

  The threat was empty and they both knew it. Not only would it lead the Gravasians to Balthazar, who was the only child he had feelings for, but it also would lead them to Helldrick. They’d likely assume father and son were in on the scheme.

  “Information is always worth money,” she agreed. That went both ways and the bastard knew it.

  His green eyes flashed at the implied threat. He started to turn away, but before she could give a sigh of relief, he spun around and slammed the flat of his hand against her face. Pain exploded in her cheekbone. Knocked off balance, she slammed back into the cooker, her right arm hitting the huge pot of soup simmering there. The skin began to sizzle before she yanked it away. She swallowed her moan of pain. Any sound always set him off.

  Don’t fall. If she did, he’d kick her. Nausea churned in her belly. Fire raced down her arm. She pressed it closer to her body to protect it. With her other, she gripped the counter.

  “Don’t you dare threaten me, girl.” His nostrils flared. “You might not care about yourself, but I know you care about those two brats.” He jerked his head toward the corner where her sisters were huddled, clinging to each other.

  Sera had one hand in her pocket, likely gripping the knife Etta had given her. But it would do little good against him. She stepped in front of them, even knowing it was a mistake to confirm his assumption.

  His triumphant laughter spilled around them. “Remember that. I’m the only thing standing between all of you and death. I’ll be staying away from the bar for a while yet. Don’t do anything stupid and you might live. And don’t ever forget that I’m watching you.” On that threat, he popped another cookie into his mouth and left.

  Her heavy breathing was the only sound for several long seconds. She wanted to fall to the floor, curl up in a ball, and cry. Ignoring the agony in her arm, she went to her sisters. “Everything is okay. I’m fine,” she assured them. At least he’d used his open hand and not his fist, so there were no broken bones.

  “You’re not.” Sera went to the cold box and rummaged around, returning with a wrapped piece of meat. “It’s not a cold pack, but it will help.”

  A ten-year-old shouldn’t know such things, but she’d likely seen her mother deal with similar injuries. “Thanks.” She took it and pressed it against her aching cheek. Nothing might be broken, but she was going to have one hell of a bruise.

  Maggs was still curled up in the corner, her shoulders hunched.

  “Maggs, honey, everything is okay now.”

  The little girl shook her head, refusing to look up. The oven timer chimed, making Etta’s heart jump. She grabbed the protective gloves and drew out the pan. “We’ll let these cool and have them.” No way would he let that bastard steal all their joy, not to mention their cookies.

  Her skin was blistering, so she grabbed the kitchen medipack and treated it. The medicated pad would ease the sting and start healing the burn. Fortunately, it wasn’t too serious an injury.

  After piling the remaining cookies onto a plate and retrieving the hidden data pad, she ushered the girls upstairs to their room. While they ate the treats, Maggs began to draw, losing herself in another world. Sera pulled out her data pad and began to read.

  It didn’t hurt her feelings. She understood the need to escape from their reality. Now she had to find a way for them to escape for real.

  The intruder? Was he a Gravasian assassin?

  It was a good thing she was sitting on the floor or she’d have fallen. She’d known that single action would come back to haunt her, hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. But Balthazar had threatened the girls’ lives, and she believed him. They were nothing to him, other than a lever to pull to get her to do his bidding.

  Helldrick and Balthazar feared no one, yet they were both hiding from the Gravasians. That was why they were around so little and their visits were always clandestine and unplanned.

  Her life might be forfeit, but maybe there was a way to free her sisters, to protect them. It would require audacity and more nerve than she might possess. But as both Helldrick and Balthazar had noted, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for them.

  Chapter Five

  Someone is going to die.

  The black and blue mark blooming on Etta’s cheek was an abomination. Rage bubbled up inside him like lava in a volcano just before it exploded. “What happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She kept her head down as she cleaned the kitchen. It had shut down a short time ago, but Etta hadn’t shown her face in the bar all evening, so he’d come looking for her. She was unloading the dish-cleaning unit, stacking the lightweight metal plates and cups onto a shelf.

  He touched his fingers to her chin and lifted her face. “Who hit you?”

  “That’s not your concern.” She jerked her head away and went back to her task. The sleeve of her shirt fell back when she set a platter on a high shelf.

  He snagged her wrist and gently eased the sleeve farther up. “What about this?”

  “Caught my arm on a hot pot. Occupational hazard.”

  His keen hearing picked up the slightest quaver. The truth, but not the whole of it. He skated his fingers over the bandage. The muscles of her arm tensed, but she didn’t pull away.

  He was more in the way than anything, so he released her and moved off to one side, a silent sentry. Head down, she went back to work until the kitchen was in pristine order. Everything in the space was worn and well-used, but it was scrupulously clean.

  She was tired, and not just physically. It was more than the slight droop of her shoulders. There was an air of … desperation around her. />
  What the fuck had happened in the time he’d been away?

  Her father or brother—had to be one of them. They were slippery as Dragarian sloths, dangerous as a Vusarian cave snakes. The only way to track their comings and goings was to have continuous surveillance on the bar. Since he couldn’t do that alone, he had to employ tech. But not Gravasian tech, in case it was discovered.

  Almost all the tiny devices were in place. Once they were deployed, he would have eyes and ears in all the public sections. The data would automatically feed back to his ship’s computer, which would sift through all the intel and pluck out any info on the two men and Etta.

  It was a slow process to get them positioned without anyone being the wiser. His plan for this evening had been to finish the job, but it had changed as soon as he’d realized she was hiding in the kitchen.

  Reaching into his pocket, he stroked the knife he’d taken from her. It wasn’t nearly as good as touching her, but it smoothed out the worst of his anger.

  Emotions clouded thinking. This was foreign territory for him, and he was still learning to navigate. It was like being in an asteroid belt without navigation capabilities or shields. Each move a potential disaster.

  He really should get back to work. Finding Balthazar and the person who’d drugged the king’s son were his priority.

  Etta tossed the used cleaning cloths into a laundry chute and rolled her shoulders.

  He was an assassin who used both his intellect and physical skills to complete whatever task was assigned to him. Being uncertain, unsure about how to proceed, was something he hadn’t experienced since childhood.

  “What can I do?”

  “What?” She blinked, as though she’d forgotten he was here. Should he be insulted or relieved she seemed comfortable with his presence? He opted for the second choice.

  “What can I do?” he repeated.

  After a brief hesitation, she shook her head. “Nothing you can do.”

  She’d be surprised by what he could accomplish when necessary, the power he wielded. He might be a ghost within his own society, but with that position came almost unlimited resources. For the first time, he was tempted to put those to work for his own benefit.

  “Have you eaten?” He’d never prepared a meal for a female before, had never had the urge, but her going hungry wasn’t an option.

  “What?” She dragged her fingers through her hair, dislodging the tie that had held it back. The silken locks fell around her shoulders. “Sorry, I’m really not good company. You should leave.”

  It was such a contrast to the last time he’d visited her here. The kiss they’d shared had rocked the foundation of his world, and he had yet to recover. It wasn’t conceited to say she’d been affected as much as he had. He’d read her vitals, seen the dazed expression on her face.

  “Did your brother do this?”

  Suspicion clouded her eyes. “What do you know about him?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “People talk.” He probably knew more about Balthazar’s life than she did, but he wasn’t lying to her. People did talk. Sometimes willingly. Sometimes with persuasion.

  The tension in her arms eased, but her frown caused furrows in her forehead. “They do, don’t they? Funny that my nighttime intruder asked about my brother and here you are doing the same.”

  She was fishing again, but he wasn’t biting. He gave a lazy shrug. “From what I hear, the man makes enemies everywhere he goes.”

  Before she could answer, one of the servers came in—a tall, older woman with silver hair and a curvaceous body. “No chance of getting food for a customer, is there?”

  Etta shook her head. “Not tonight. There’s nothing prepped, everything is cleaned and put away.”

  “Figured I’d ask.” The woman glanced at Kyler. Head and body cloaked, he stood in the corner. “People are talking about you.”

  He remained silent and stared. She might not be able to see his eyes, but she’d feel them.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and took a step back. “Night, Etta,” she called over her shoulder as she fled back to the raucous bar.

  “Goodnight.” She started out of the kitchen without another word to him. He silently stalked behind her as she made her way to a heavily locked door at the end of the corridor. Quietly waited as she undid the locks.

  She turned around and made a shooing motion with her hands. “Go away now.”

  Did she think that would work? His lips twitched. “We’re not done talking.”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “I have plenty.” He pushed forward, using his larger body to maneuver her through the open door. Once on the other side, he set all the security back into place.

  She was stiff beside him. “You’re not coming up with me.”

  “Then I’ll go without you.” He lifted her aside and started up the stairs with her muttering a string of curses behind him.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I have questions,” he reminded her.

  “About my brother.”

  “And your father.” At the top of the stairs, he waited, allowing her to take the lead. When her hand went to her face, her fingertips skimming the bruise, he had his answer. “Your father struck you.”

  She dropped her hand and briskly opened the final door to her home. “Not your problem.”

  She was right about that, but he wouldn’t let it drop, couldn’t let it go. “Tell me what I need to know and I’ll go away.” Every cell in his body screamed in denial. He hung fast and firm to his resolve.

  Leaving him just inside the door, she marched to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator unit, and pulled out a tube of flavored drink. Cracking it open, she took a long swallow. “And if I don’t? You’ll sneak back in the middle of the night? I know it was you. Sure the voice was different, but that’s easy enough to do, isn’t it?”

  “You tell me.” Neither confirming nor denying her accusation, he strode toward her, allowing his footsteps to echo on the floor.

  “Take down that hood. We’re alone here. If we’re fighting, I want to see you.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” He shoved the covering back, enjoying the way her eyes widened. He’d never been vain about his appearance before. His looks were what they were. But knowing she found him attractive made him stand a little taller.

  She pointed a finger at him. “You’re playing a dangerous game. Helldrick and Balthazar are not men to cross.”

  It struck him that she’d used Helldrick’s name instead of calling him her father. Moving toward her, he crowded her back against the counter.

  “Stop that.” She set her drink down and pressed her hands against his chest.

  “Make me.” What was he doing? He should be down in the bar planting his remaining listening devices. A tendril of golden hair lay against the curve of her cheek. He hooked it over her ear.

  Her fingers curled inward. He cursed his clothing and the battlesuit beneath, wishing she was stroking his bare skin. Her breathing quickened.

  Unable to resist the lure of her sweet mouth, he leaned down and brushed his lips against it. Heat exploded, rushing to his groin and surging outward, traveling at light speed through his body. It was even better than he remembered. She made a sound, a cross between pain and pleasure, and her tongue flicked out to taste him.

  This was what he’d wanted since he’d left her last night. She’d followed him into his dreams, leaving him restless and overheated, and haunted his waking hours. Not even a full day of training had been able to oust her from his thoughts.

  He wanted to strip her naked and learn every inch of her skin, kissing and stroking until they were both screaming for release. Drawing on every ounce of discipline he possessed, he ran his fingers over her delicate collarbone. She shivered and licked her lips.

  “This is crazy.”

  “Why?” She was right, but he was curious about her reasoning.

  “I know…” She trailed off, huf
fed out a breath, and began again. “I know you broke into my room. You never denied it.”

  “I never confirmed it.” Her skin was softer than Darkata silk. The pulse in her neck fluttered wildly, drawing him. He dragged his tongue over the sensitive spot.

  “Gods, you have to stop.” On a shudder, she pushed away, and he let her go. “There’s no need to seduce me for information.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  Etta grabbed her drink and took a large swallow. “Do you answer every question with a question? It’s an interesting technique.”

  The silence between them grew until she threw up her arms. “So it’s questions or silence. Let me tell you what I think.” She dumped the rest of her drink in the sink and went into the living area, pacing the space.

  “You’re my intruder. You’re here because Balthazar is involved in something.” Her gaze flickered to him. “Something dangerous.”

  And she had a good idea what that might be. It was in the fearful sidelong glance, the slight tightened of her mouth. His hot blood cooled, his desire faded. He stalked toward her, not surprised when she took a step back, but she stopped and stood her ground. “Brave or foolish, which are you?”

  “Neither. I’m desperate.”

  The truth vibrated through him.

  “I’ll tell you everything I know, answer any questions, if you make me a promise.”

  “Oh, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

  The passion in her eyes had drained away, leaving only fear. He wanted to smash everything in the room. Why her? Why now? But life wasn’t fair. He yanked his fury back, restraining it, until the man she’d awoken was once again locked away. In front of her stood the king’s blade, the finest assassin of Gravas.

  She swallowed heavily. “Helldrick told me my brother was involved with some stolen Gravasian tech.”

  He inclined his head.

  The only color in her face was the bruise that covered most of one cheek. “He must have a death wish.” She shook herself. “If the Gravasians sent you, I want to make a deal.”

 

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