Chapter 2
Present Day
Saedra paced her bedroom and mentally marked off how much time she had left before it was too late. Staying with her father wasn’t possible any longer. She knew that. Felt it in her battered bones. If something didn’t change right away, she would forfeit her life.
Lord Maurin Cressler had grown increasingly erratic and downright cruel in his treatment of her. Saedra didn’t have scales like a true Dragonian, she didn’t possess any psychic abilities like her mother’s race, the Meeta, and most importantly, she hadn’t blossomed into a raving beauty with any notable skills whatsoever.
It was by pure chance as she’d rushed from her shower with her dirty clothing bundled in her arms that Saedra overheard her father. He planned to offer her to his friend, a violent pirate with a history of abusing the women under his care, in exchange for a cache of rare jewels and a prized artifact from the Zephyll royal family. The royal Zephyll family!
It was enough for Saedra. Now or never. It was imperative she put her plan into action.
“Lady Saedra, what are you doing here?”
Saedra spun around, shoving her hands into the wide pockets of her skirt to hide their trembling. Meka eyed her with concern. Meka had been with their household since Saedra’s mother married her father. Initially, her role was to assist Lady Florene by attending to her hair, dress and any other needs.
Her mother’s death when Saedra was only ten had changed things. Circumstances afterward necessitated Meka staying on to care for her because her father didn’t want the responsibility. Something Saedra would forever be grateful for.
“I was just coming down for a medical aid.” Saedra had fabricated debilitating headaches a few years ago in anticipation of using it for future excuses and lies to avoid her father’s machinations.
Meka’s wide-set brown eyes glimmered with concern and she worried her teeth over her plump bottom lip. “Is your head bothering you again?”
“Yes,” she lied. There was no need in risking Meka’s life by telling the truth which Lord Maurin might torture out of her.
“You should go and rest then.” Meka curled an arm about Saedra’s waist and turned her toward the stairs that led to the upper area and her bedroom on the top floor. “I’ll bring you up a bowl of soup when I check on you later.”
“Of course.” Saedra allowed herself to be guided to her room, ignoring the look on the faces of the guards they passed and the sneer Parson aimed their way from his position at the top of the stairs.
Meka stiffened, but it wasn’t until they were safely behind the closed and locked door of Saedra’s bedroom that she spoke. “He gets bolder as time goes on. Promise me to have a care.”
So Meka had noticed Parson’s aggressive attitude increasing as well. Perhaps he knew about her father’s plans for her. She certainly hadn’t been made aware of an impending marriage.
Saedra was being sold like cattle to the highest bidder. It would be enough to make someone like Parson cocky. Maybe he thought to sample what he’d been threatening for years before she was shuffled off for good.
Her skin crawled but Saedra shook off the awful vision. If she let her mind linger on those horrifying thoughts she’d be a weak bundling pile of nerves hovering in the corner unable to put her plan into action.
“I’m watching him, Meka.” She brightened the wattage of her smile and squeezed Meka’s hand in genuine affection. Soon she’d be leaving this diligent woman behind.
Affection had not been a part of Saedra’s upbringing once her loving mother died and Meka’s role had been strictly to see to Saedra’s care. Anything beyond that would have drawn her father’s negative attention. He needed Saedra to be isolated for his control over her to be complete. Meka cared, just not enough to risk her life, nor would Saedra want her to.
But it didn’t matter. Nothing Maurin did could take away the first ten years Saedra spent basking in her mother’s love and attention. While she no longer had that, she did remember. And one day she’d have it again. She’d have a circle of friends who cared for her well-being and there would be a man. A partner. One who was going to love Saedra with every bit of his being and protect her and shower her with the affection and attention she longed for. Deserved.
He would not threaten to silence her by slicing her throat. He would not slam her into walls until one day her head cracked open and she died.
Saedra swallowed back a sob as the memories of her mother’s death attempted to pull her into a morose state.
“I’ll leave you to take the meds and sleep it off.” Meka inclined her head to leave. At the door, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. Her brows furrowed on her brown face and it took a moment but her voice was husky when next she spoke. “I could not show you my feelings during our time together but if our paths part, I wish you long health and safety.”
She opened the door and closed it behind her before Saedra could fully comprehend. When she did, her breath whooshed out and her pulse leaped. Maybe she hadn’t been as careful concealing her intent to escape as she’d thought, or maybe Meka really did know Saedra.
Shaking her head, she would have to trust Meka wouldn’t reveal any hint of her plans. Saedra made her way to the small glass top table and chair in the corner of her room where she usually curled to read adventure tales on her device. Carefully, she pulled out the items she’d hid in her pockets—a confirmation slip for recent purchases she’d made. If discovered, the receipt would have been the final blow in her father’s already growing disregard for her.
***
“Not the great assassin everyone feared anymore, eh? One call, one promise and you’re exactly where I wanted you.”
Betrayal. It left a nasty bitter taste in the mouth. Garik eyed the man he’d trusted, a peer he’d called friend in as much as he’d considered anyone a friend.
“Put the plasti-cuffs on him,” another man with them said.
Garik didn’t struggle as his captors jerked his arms forward and locked him in skin pinching restraints.
“Too easy,” the infamous Lord Maurin Cressler sneered
Garik didn’t rise to the verbal taunt from the target he’d been assigned to take out. Rumors and records proved Maurin had bought the moon station, Quantoon, cheap because no one else had wanted the abandoned place. He’d purchased it with illegal credits he’d made running a surprisingly successful smuggling enterprise. The Dragonian had turned the station into a haven for his criminal minded crew amongst others and considered himself a ruler of some sort. It was one of many reasons the Assassin’s Guild had sent Garik.
His attention wasn’t focused on Maurin right now though. Vengeance was running through his mind for fellow assassin and peer or former peer, Dedrin. Dedrin and Garik were both members of the Galactic Assassins Guild and sworn to eliminate the targets presented by their organization. Targets who were usually identified as acting outside the legal jurisdiction of the Alliance.
“Nothing to say?” Maurin goaded from a far enough distance Garik couldn’t touch him.
Dedrin, however, was a step—two at the most from Garik—and his arrogant smirk drove another spike of rage through Garik. He’d trusted Dedrin. Or rather, he’d trusted that Dedrin’s call was legitimate.
Garik was ruthless and known for his killer instincts and ability to never fail when he was sent on a mission. He collected favors like some men collected credits. For Garik, having people owe him was much more valuable than monetary accumulation and gave him leverage over them for future use.
Usually, Garik completed his assignments alone. He’d earned his reputation as assazi, an assassin who didn’t work with others. There were the rare cases where Garik would reach out to another from the Guild. Usually a fellow assazi interested in a short term partnership. In this instance, Garik had contacted Dedrin to assist in the takedown of Maurin.
It should have been simple and easy once they got through Maurin’s extensive and pretty damn good security. Instea
d, Dedrin had revealed Garik’s plan to the target, lied and led Garik into a trap. One which found him now captured.
“Yes, Garik. What do you have to say now?” Dedrin asked with an arch of his blond brow.
“Was it worth it?” Garik countered, tipping his head to the side in genuine interest.
Dedrin snorted and smoothed back his already slicked down hair. His tan cheeks creased from his smug smile. “Yes. I would have done it without the incentive of the credits I received. You with your better than everyone attitude, your ace ratings and ninety-five percent successful completion. The Master of the Guild can’t help boasting to the rest of us on how we should seek to emulate your skill level.”
That was new. Garik had no idea the Master spoke of him so well. Huh. Guess this wasn’t a simple matter of betrayal for credits as he’d initially assumed. This was jealousy. Pure, petty jealousy. He and Dedrin had finished in the same training cycle, which meant he could have achieved similar status in the same time frame.
Garik nodded and adjusted his stance to brace his legs. “I can see how this would have been a problem for you since you’ve been reprimanded twice for poor performance and a third time will see your position in the Guild demoted.”
It wasn’t that Dedrin was a bad assassin. It was just that he was overzealous in his efforts and the nature of their roles required one to be adept at patience, planning and cunning. They were to be invisible in handling their tasks above all else.
Aggression and belligerence accomplished nothing except mistakes. Mistakes that could lead to a quick and painful death. The Guild invested too much money in their training to ignore dangerous behavior.
The fact that Dedrin had completed the academy training at the Guild meant he wasn’t a complete and utter fuck up. On the contrary, when partnered with a more adept assassin, he was exemplary.
The problem came about on solo missions. Ego, it seemed, couldn’t be beat out of him and Dedrin allowed his pride to jeopardize his success at eliminating targets time and time again requiring other senior-level assassins to come in to finish or fix his mess. That usually increased the risks for whoever was chosen to step in because the target would be alert and aware at that point.
Not everyone was fit to kill on command without question and do it well. Unlike Garik. He’d been with the Guild for over a decade and thrived in a culture that required nothing from him but his best. He didn’t have friends, he had debts owed. At any given time, he could call in the debts of over a dozen assassins and they would flock to his side in haste to repay them.
“Well, good to know the why of it all. It won’t be a great loss when I end you.”
Killing, Garik thought, was always going to be in his blood.
Dedrin’s tan featured darkened to an ugly shade of red at Garik’s dismissive words. “What did you say?”
Garik didn’t repeat himself. He wasn’t interested in a verbal sparring session with the man. Plus, Maurin was watching them with an inexplicable level of interest Garik didn’t like. He would watch what he said until he figured out a way to get free.
Dedrin clenched his teeth and a muscle flexed in his jaw. Hands fisted at his side, he took a step forward, close enough to sneer in Garik’s face. “What did you say, Denikon?”
Maurin’s eyes brightened with sudden knowledge. Garik cursed Dedrin under his breath. It wasn’t likely that the former smuggler hadn’t heard of him. Now Maurin was certain of who he had in his custody if there had ever been a moment of doubt. The smile slowly stretching over Maurin’s golden lips had Garik gritting his teeth.
Ignoring Dedrin and speaking over his shoulder directly to Maurin, Garik asked, “I don’t suppose you’re going to miss him, are you?”
Maurin’s chuckle burst out loud and boisterous, causing the handful of men around them to glance around in nervous anticipation. Dedrin’s brows creased and Garik blocked a momentary twinge of regret. Regret had no place here. He slammed his head forward, colliding with Dedrin’s. Garik looped his restrained hands about Dedrin’s neck, cutting off his gasp then gave it a sharp twist.
It was a skill he’d perfected through the years and he stepped back instantly as Dedrin’s lifeless body dropped to the floor, eyes wide in his last moments of shock.
Mirth cut off short, Maurin grimaced and swiped a hand over his scaled face, a testament to his Dragonian ancestry. “I was hoping you’d do more. That was too quick for even my taste. I wanted to see a glimpse of your fighting skills, Garik Denikon.”
Garik shrugged. “Didn’t seem sporting as he was a peer.”
Maurin’s brows arched high and his yellow eyes flashed to blue then yellow again. “He betrayed you and still, you would honor him with a painless death.”
Statement or question. Garik couldn’t tell the difference. He let his shoulders fall lax in a feigned casual pose and contemplated taking on the three men Maurin had with him. Risk and analysis. Two were bulky across the shoulders and chest but had soft middles. The third had eerie black eyes and watched Garik’s every move.
Lithe but toned. Garik didn’t dare think he was the weakest of the three. This guard carried his weight on the balls of his booted feet, hands braced at his hips where a holstered laser rested on each side. He appeared trained and fully prepared to take Garik on if necessary.
Garik withheld a snarl of frustration. Fucking Dedrin. To Maurin, he said, “What are the odds we both walk away from this and pretend it never happened?”
Laughter exploded from the others but Maurin stared at Garik. Amusement was replaced by avid curiosity and a hint of cruelty.
Garik stilled. He’d faced corrupt and evil men across more worlds than he could count but Maurin was on another level. Garik ran several scenarios through his head and all of them ended up with him dead. Since he rather liked living, he controlled his instinct to fight back as one of Maurin’s men approached with a second set of restraints.
“Bring him to the dungeons,” Maurin ordered.
One of the guards surrounding them bound Garik’s ankles, immobilizing his ability to take large steps as another grabbed his elbow and jerked him forward.
The corners of Maurin’s eyes crinkled. Although he didn’t smile, there was an air of satisfaction about him. “Now, we will see how well one of the Guild does under torture.”
It was what Garik expected once he realized the trap that had been sprung. None of them spared a glance for Dedrin’s slain body as they left the back room of the bar Maurin frequented. It was where Garik had plotted to poison him. Clearly, Dedrin’s purpose in Maurin’s mind had already been filled.
Behind him, looters were already gathering around his slain peer to pick his pockets dry. The body would be disposed of at some point. Garik couldn’t find it in him to care. He risked one last glance around the rudimentary establishment. Worn clothing, rough mannerisms, eyes glittering with greed. A haven for those like-minded with an interest in dark activities without remorse or consequence.
There would be no one here coming to his aid. So Garik would have to wait. He was accustomed to waiting. Maurin didn’t know as much as he thought about the members of the Guild if he thought Garik would go down easily.
Outside, the air was heavy and thick with the arid feel of a weather change. It was common for severe dust storms to rise without warning on Quantoon. Though brief in time period, the deadly weather phenom had been known to destroy everything in its path.
The guard on the right smashed a meaty palm on top of Garik’s head and forced him in the backseat of the armored vehicle parked in front of the bar beneath a bright spotlight. He could have resisted and overpowered him but the odds were against him if he chose to fight back now.
The crowd lingering outside the establishment looked in their direction then quickly turned away when they noticed Maurin. Garik spread his legs wide and made himself comfortable on the cushioned synth leather seat. The interior was filled with buttons and gadgets, the expense obvious. A brawny weight settled on the r
ight side of him as the door was slammed shut. The other burly guard sat on the bench seat across from Garik and growled low as he kicked one of Garik’s booted feet to the side to make room for his own.
Instead of reacting, Garik folded his restrained hands on his mid-section causing both to tense and place their hands on their weapon. He held in a snort of amusement and tipped his head back as if in casual regard. There was a thick clear partition separating the driver in the front from those in the back.
Maurin sat in the front with the lean watchful guard. Garik steeled his heart, muscles going lax as he reclined in the seat, drawing nervous stares. His spirit gained confidence with each mile they traversed assumedly to Maurin’s home and what would surely be his most painful trial yet.
Where Dedrin failed, where Maurin would fail as well, was in thinking that attaining the skill level Garik held as an assazi was about nothing more than sheer brute, physical strength.
They were wrong. It was about the mind and ones’ internal fortitude. Garik excelled in that arena because he had nothing to lose and everything to win. Dedrin had never understood that which ultimately led to his demise.
Garik inhaled and exhaled as they cross the courtyard from one complex to another. From the moment of his parents death to the time of Nevo Xyman offering him a chance with the Guild, all Garik had was himself and a belief if he could stand firm against uneven odds, he could stand firm against all else.
Training with the Guild had only solidified that belief. Now, indeed, Maurin would see that Garik was not defeated.
Nor was he prey to be so easily brought down.
Chapter 3
“We have orders to kill him in the morning,” the first voice said with a hint of glee in the tone.
“I know. Lord Maurin will prove to the Guild and their blind followers that we are not afraid of them. Others will soon see this too. Half of their success hinders on the terror they engender and the other half from unsubstantiated claims about their ability to kill and vanish without sign or trace,” the second voice added.
The Unexpected Bonding Vow Page 2
