Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas Book 4) Read online

  Jamaeh turned and shaded her hand over her eyes, picking out several of his known companions. Who did they have in their sights this time?

  The tall stranger turned down a lane and Samar followed.

  “Don’t do it,” she muttered, even as she started moving in their direction. Getting involved would only bring more hardship her way, but damned if she’d leave the stranger to deal with them on his own.

  Chapter Two

  Zaxe followed a lane away from the market, still stunned by what he’d learned from the old man. How could he have forgotten so much of his childhood? Allowed the knowledge of his parents to slip away until barely anything remained?

  Castigating himself wasn’t going to help. He’d been a small, skinny boy of six, alone on a strange world, trying to protect his sister while dealing with the trauma of watching both parents be slaughtered in front of him. It was little wonder he’d buried it all.

  When his life had changed, it had gotten better in some ways and worse in others. Memories would have only hurt, so he’d let them go.

  Now that the door was open, they were roaring back. With them came a thirst for justice and vengeance. He would have both once his mission was done.

  He slowed his steps and took a breath. The best thing to do was go back to his ship and get his bearings before dealing with the job at hand. Helldrick was his priority. The past couldn’t be changed, but his sister’s and his future hinged on him getting this job done.

  Delphi would scold him if she could see him now, recklessly walking down a strange street without paying attention. Sass, his adopted sister, would kick his ass.

  His awareness, which had been muted under the onslaught of memories, surged to life. The smells and sounds of the marketplace had faded, replaced by the earthy scent of the dirt path baked by the heat of the sun and the occasional whiff of something cooking in a nearby home. While he’d studied the layout of the city, the reality was far different from the map he’d been able to access. In truth, the place was a maze of lanes and paths that sometimes dead-ended. Best to go back to the main road and make his way to the docking station from there.

  Several sets of footsteps sounded behind him. They were loud and filled with purpose, not even trying to be stealthy. It might be nothing, but there was a snap of electricity in the air, a sense of danger that promised otherwise. He’d been expecting this since he’d realized someone was watching him.

  His hands flexed, curling into fists before relaxing. A fight would allow him to use some of his excess energy in a constructive manner. It would also be the height of stupidity, possibly get him in trouble with the local authorities—exactly what he didn’t need.

  Taking a deep breath, he reached for the mental and emotional armor built by years of training. It settled over him like a second skin. Outwardly nothing had changed, only everything had. He was once again the deadly assassin he’d been trained to be.

  He turned and noted the three men coming toward him. They were in their early twenties, tall and fit, all wearing local clothing—sturdy white pants and cloaks with shirts of various shades of a summer’s sky beneath. The one in the center of the pack walked slightly ahead, a sneer on his face. He’d be their leader.

  “Looks like you’re lost.” It was not a friendly inquiring.

  Saying nothing, Zaxe began to stroll in their direction. They stepped into his path, giving him nowhere to go and making their intentions to waylay him plain. He started around them, but their leader grabbed him by the arm. “I’m talking to you.”

  Silence was a powerful weapon. Zaxe simply stared down at where the man’s hand gripped his arm.

  “We’ll give you safe passage through the city.” The man motioned to himself and his buddies. “There are people around who like to take advantage of strangers. Badwa can be a dangerous place.”

  Ah, so that was their game. No matter where in the galaxies he’d traveled, there were always men like this ready and willing to prey on those they considered weaker. “And how much will this safe passage cost?” He kept his tone level, even slightly amused.

  The man’s smile was tinged with cruelty and a hint of anger. “We prefer to call it a donation. Six hundred amants should cover it. Two hundred apiece.”

  As a shakedown, it was affordable enough, so most would pay rather than risk the consequences. Zaxe cataloged the face of each man for future reference as he reached into his pocket. “That seems reasonable.”

  The sneer deepened. He glanced at his friends and grinned. “Sorry, did I say six? I mean a thousand.”

  Ah, they thought him weak for agreeing to pay so easily. He left the money where it was and smiled. “You had to get greedy, didn’t you? It wasn’t enough for you to take your money and go.”

  Now the grin faded. “You’ll give us the money or we’ll take it from you.” All pretense of being pleasant disappeared.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Every muscle in Zaxe’s body was primed and ready. He wouldn’t even need weapons, seeing as they didn’t have any. The advantage was his, but it was closer to fair given there were three of them. “You can all walk away and enjoy your day.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The man spat at Zaxe’s feet. “Coward.”

  He shook his head. “A coward is the man who attacks those he believes weaker.” It took the man a few seconds to understand he’d been called out.

  “I was just going to smack you around a bit and lighten your wallet. Now we’re going to kick your ass.” His friends came up alongside him.

  Adrenaline flooded Zaxe. Anticipation thrummed through his veins. A part of him was looking forward to this, even knowing it could bring future problems.

  The man raised his clenched fist.

  “Leave him alone, Samar.” A woman slipped through a tiny gap between two homes. The space between the stones didn’t look large enough for her to have fit, yet she had.

  She was tall, about six feet, and slender. Unlike most of the women in the marketplace, who’d been wearing vibrant and patterned skirts and tunics, she was garbed similarly to the men. Where their shirts were bright, hers was plain. To make it easier to blend in?

  If that was her goal, she’d failed. This was a woman who would never fade into the background. Not with her exotic features. Her skin was lighter than most of the population, hinting at mixed parentage. Her hair was a profusion of skinny black and red braids that were pulled away from her face and hung behind her shoulders. But it was her brilliant green eyes that captured his attention and held it. They held a combination of acceptance and wisdom that only came from a hard life.

  “Stay out of this, Jamaeh. It’s not your business.”

  Zaxe was inclined to agree. The last thing he wanted was for someone to get hurt on his behalf. Ignoring Samar—and it was good to have a name to go with the face—Jamaeh came to stand beside him.

  “You shouldn’t get involved.” The slightest hint of honey and mint teased his nostrils, making his mouth water for a taste of her. Then his brain kicked in, warning she might well be a part of this scam.

  She hooked her arm around his and smiled. “Sorry I lost you back at the marketplace.” Giving Samar and his buddies her attention, she continued, “He’s a business associate. I’m sure you understand.”

  Why was she lying? Was she really trying to be helpful or did she have motives of her own?

  But Samar was shaking his head. “Sorry, Jamaeh, but he doesn’t get a pass. And neither do you.” His gaze turned calculating. “I might be persuaded to overlook it.” He leered, running his gaze over her body, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted.

  Her arm stiffened, but she gave no other outward sign of being bothered. “Now, Samar, we’ve had this discussion before. That’s not going to happen in this lifetime or the next.”

  “Oh, it will. You think you’re so much better than us, but you’re nothing but a bastard half-breed. It’s only a matter of time before you’ll be begging for my attention.” He c
upped the bulge in his pants, making plain what his demands would be.

  “Enough.” Zaxe’s voice was low but filled with command.

  Samar shook his head. “I say when it’s enough.”

  The braying of a mulkey and the clatter of wheels announced the arrival of more people. The beasts of burden, known for their placid manner and ability to survive on little water, were bred and traded on many worlds.

  “This isn’t over,” Samar warned before spinning around and heading back the way he’d come, his friends right behind him. Interesting that they didn’t want an audience. Or were they using the arrival to beat a retreat and save face?

  “You’ve made an enemy,” Jamaeh cautioned as they disappeared from sight.

  “So have you.” Zaxe was more concerned about her than himself. He’d be leaving. She lived here.

  A cart rolled around the bend in the road, carrying two men, the mulkey plodding along, his shod hoofs clacking against the hard ground. The driver of the cart perched on the bench seat and nodded as he passed.

  “Samar has been trouble for me since we were kids. I can handle him.”

  Zaxe wasn’t so sure. The man hadn’t liked being called out in front of his friends, especially not by a stranger and a woman.

  He should be on his way back to his ship, but he needed the answer to one question first. “Why did you get involved?”

  She squinted against the sunlight as she stared up at him. “I was watching you in the marketplace.”

  ****

  Shut up!

  Her heart pounding from her run-in with Samar and his pals, head spinning from being so close to the stranger, she spit the truth out without thought.

  That was a first.

  Not that she lied on a regular basis, but she’d learned from a young age to keep her mouth shut, to say only as much as necessary. The less people knew about you, the less they had to use against you. And information could sometimes be bartered for food and money.

  It was one of many ways she’d managed to shelter and feed her family.

  Hurrying to cover up her mistake, she smiled. “I mean, I saw you. At the harira stall. I know all the locals and you’re not from here.”

  She wished she could see his eyes. It would give her a better idea what he was thinking, but they were covered by his sunshades. Expensive ones. His clothing was similar to hers but much better quality. Being poor as a child and a trader as an adult, she knew the difference.

  “I was from here once.”

  The deep sound of his voice sank into her bones and warmed her from the inside out. No, that was the midday sun. Had nothing to do with this man.

  “Do you have a name?”

  “I do.”

  The dust from the passing cart had settled. There was no breeze to cut through the heat. It was the time of day most took refuge inside until it began to cool as the afternoon waned. She waited, but he offered nothing.

  It was time for her to go. She’d already wasted time she didn’t have and given Samar another reason to hate her. It was shaping up to be a stellar day.

  Damn him. Damn Samar. And damn her father.

  “Fine. See you around.” She trotted toward the vendors, wary of the man behind her and those who might be waiting for her. What had possessed her to get involved? Oh, yeah, the thought he might be involved with her father. And his compelling face.

  Served her right for getting distracted. She knew better.

  “Wait,” he called.

  Oh no, she was done with him. Jamaeh slipped between two homes, flattening her body against the warm stones. It was a tight squeeze, the rough stone pulling at her clothing, but she managed. There was no way he could follow. He was too damn big to fit.

  She ducked down an alley and across a lane that spit her back out into the market. The crowd had dwindled to almost nonexistent. Most stalls had closed and would remain so for the next three hours, opening to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon and early evening hours.

  Cursing herself for staying so long, she kept to the shadows as she made her way toward the exit. From there, it was a short walk home where she could regroup and figure out a plan of action to find her brother.

  The air behind her stirred. Jamaeh dropped and rolled, popping to her feet several feet away. The knife she wore at the small of her back was in her hand, her knees bent, ready to defend herself.

  The stranger held his hands out in front of him. “I mean you no harm.”

  “How did you follow me?” She slid the knife away as swiftly as she’d pulled it. No way had he been able to follow the same path she’d taken. And if he’d retraced his steps, he’d have ended up at the opposite entrance of the market.

  The corners of his mouth twitched. Her heart skipped a beat as those full lips threatened to smile, stopping just short. He pointed up.

  She frowned and looked. Her mouth fell open. “The rooftops?” He was more than just a pretty face. It made her rethink her earlier actions. Maybe he hadn’t needed saving. Seemed her first impression had been right. This was a dangerous man.

  He shrugged. “I couldn’t fit where you did.” He took another step closer. “Zaxe. My name is Zaxe.”

  “That’s a weapon, not a name.” A zaxe was a native axe. The personal guards and armies of the ruling families now fought with blasters, but they all learned how to use the zaxe. It was part of their heritage. She’d even paid for Esau to have lessons because there was no male family member to teach him.

  Maybe it wasn’t his real name. Although, why bother to lie?

  His lips thinned. “It’s mine.”

  Obviously a sore spot. She, better than most, understood that. “Good to meet you, Zaxe. I’ll be going now.” She pointed off in the other direction. “That’s where you came in. Backtrack and I’m sure you’ll find your way to wherever you came from. Stay out of Samar’s way and you’ll be fine.”

  Her good deed for the day was done. Whoever Zaxe was, she needed to stay as far away from him as possible. She had enough problems of her own without getting involved with his.

  It was harder than it should be to walk away from a man she barely knew, yet with each step she took, all her instincts screamed she was leaving behind something special. It was the same response she had when she stumbled on some new find on her trading route. Only those were things, items to barter and sell. It had never happened with a person.

  Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she put one foot in front of the other. This was just another in a lifetime of difficult choices. It had to be the worry over her brother making her more fanciful and emotional. She’d never had any trouble walking away from a man before.

  “I want to hire you.” His voice was closer than it should be. Quieter than a wild liger, a giant cat that stalked the mountains in the Western Territory, he’d somehow managed to be a few steps behind with her knowing.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “And just what is it you think I do?” He’d heard Samar’s insinuations. Zaxe wouldn’t be the first man to think he could offer her money for sex. While she didn’t look down on women who were forced by circumstances to do just that, from a young age, she’d vowed she’d find another way.

  “Well?” A fist gripped her stomach, but she kept her back straight. The circumstances of her birth couldn’t be changed, but she had pride. Sometimes it was the only thing sustaining her.

  “You’re a local and I need a guide. A thousand amants a day.” A light breeze gusted up, ruffling the edge of the cloak around his face.

  That was a lot of money. “For what, exactly?” In her experience, if something seemed too good to be true, it was. There was no such thing as easy money.

  “Not what you’re thinking.” He ran the tips of his fingers over her cheek. Warmth spread out from that point, radiating throughout her entire body. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but I’d never disrespect you by insinuating you could be bought. I need a guide around the city. I need informat
ion. I can get it myself, but it will take less time if I have someone who knows where to look.”

  It was the first time in her life someone other than her mother had told her she was beautiful. Not even her father or brother had ever said such a thing. Unusual, half-breed, different, bastard—those were the terms usually applied to her.

  Don’t believe it.

  This stranger was a smooth talker who wanted something from her. “A thousand a day. I do nothing but guide. Money for each day upfront.” She held out her hand.

  “You want me to pay you now?” The slightly raised brows and tilt of his chin suggested he was more amused than offended.

  “You want me to trust you. You have to trust I’ll show up tomorrow morning.”

  He shook his head. “Tonight. The places I need to visit and people I need to see? It has to be tonight.”

  More confirmation that this was a dangerous man likely up to no good. “Fifteen hundred.” If she was going to stick her neck out, it was going to cost him. “And I don’t go in anywhere I’m not comfortable.” There weren’t many, but there were a few places she wouldn’t step foot.

  “Agreed.” Zaxe pulled out some money, counted out her fee, and handed it to her. “Meet me here at nine this evening.”

  “Not here.” She took the money and stuffed it into her pants pocket. “The marketplace fountain at the opposite end. It’s easier to move to any section of the city from there.”

  Zaxe held out his hand again. When she frowned, he shrugged. “I want to shake on the deal. Make it official.”

  Didn’t matter to her one way or another. She still got paid. When her hand slipped into his, she realized it was a huge mistake. His large hand engulfed her smaller one. This was no pampered aristocrat. The skin was hard in places, calluses that only came from hard work. When she tried to withdraw, he tightened his hold and tugged her under an awning. The cooler shadows made her shiver. Or maybe it was Zaxe himself.

  “I shouldn’t do this,” he muttered. Before she could ask what he meant, he lowered his head.

  He’s going to kiss me.