Zaxe's Rule (Assassins of Gravas Book 4)

by N. J. Walters

  Half a dozen low tables were surrounded by thick, colorful pillows. Only one of them had men sitting at it. Like the patrons in the outer section, they were dressed in local garb. A far cry from the dirty and unkempt patrons that inhabited the bars he usually frequented in his searches. The men glanced in their direction before returning their attention to their private conversation.

  On a slightly raised dais on the far end of the room sat a slender man with a trim beard and mustache. This must be Reman. He raised his hand in greeting. “Jamaeh, what brings you to my humble establishment?”

  His greeting was pleasant enough, but there was cold calculation in his eyes. And the three guards around him looked more than capable of handling most problems that might arise.

  What struck Zaxe the most was the lack of diversity. Everyone was dark skinned—except for Jamaeh. While her skin was brown, it was a much lighter shade. In every other bar he’d ever visited, there’d always been a motley group, representing every corner of the known galaxies.

  Was it like this only in the Northern Territory or were the rest of them as closed to outsiders?

  “And you brought a friend. Sit. Sit.” Reman indicated the cushions across from him. Neck itching at the thought of having his back to the room, Zaxe sat, making sure his cloak wouldn’t hinder him if he had to move suddenly. His battlesuit would halt a knife to the back, but nothing would stop a headshot.

  “Reman, it’s been a while.” Jamaeh bowed slightly and took a seat, her movements graceful and feminine, in spite of the male garb she wore. To his mind, it seemed to emphasize it even more.

  Their host studied him, trying to see past the hood that covered his face. “You must forgive me, but I don’t do business with men I can’t see.” The note of command in his tone made Zaxe smile.

  He flowed to his feet and bowed. “I beg forgiveness for wasting your time.” He headed back toward the door. Jamaeh cursed under her breath and followed.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered angrily.

  “Making a point.” As he’d suspected would happen, a guard moved in front of the door to block them. Zaxe glanced over his shoulder. “Not very hospitable.”

  The entire place went dead silent. Jamaeh sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit. What have you done?”

  Since he hadn’t lived here since childhood, Zaxe had spent some time this afternoon delving into the customs of Zaxus to refresh his memory. A Zaxian male prided himself on his hospitality. To call it into question was to cast doubt on his honor.

  “I’ve killed men for less.” Reman’s voice held a hint of anger.

  “You have or have you had them killed?”

  “It is the same.” He waved his hand in the air in front of him.

  “No, it’s not.” Giving the man his back, Zaxe faced the guard. “Move.”

  “You must sit until Reman is done speaking with you.” The guard pulled a knife and gestured back toward the table.

  Quick as a snake, Zaxe struck the man in the throat, pulling the hit enough so it took him down without killing him. The big man dropped like a stone, clutching his neck. The knife clattered to the floor. There was a rush of feet behind him. He spun around but they weren’t going for him.

  Jamaeh bowed toward Reman. “I’m sorry. I had no idea my client was so stubborn. I offer my apology. We will leave and I will never darken your door again.”

  Shit, he was so used to acting on his own he hadn’t taken into account how this would affect her. It wasn’t easy to change decades of training.

  Two of the guards had her by the arms and were dragging her back toward the table. He could take them all out, but not before they had a chance to hurt her. They shoved her down on a cushion. She wasn’t going anywhere until they allowed it.

  Their host cocked an eyebrow. “Are you joining us?”

  The threat was clear. What Reman didn’t know was that he was a dead man. Zaxe couldn’t leave the planet until he knew Jamaeh wouldn’t pay for his actions. His threat to her had sealed his fate.

  Zaxe prowled across the room, stopping at the occupied table. “Get out.” The men didn’t waste any time. They simply ran. When the door slammed shut behind them, only their host and his guards remained.

  “Now I’m doubly curious. Why the secrecy?” He waved to the cushion across from him as if he hadn’t threatened to kill Zaxe moments before. A waiter silently appeared, setting a bowl of figs and a bottle of wine on the table. He filled the lone goblet before disappearing out another door that likely led to a kitchen area.

  Zaxe settled himself back on a cushion, making sure the hood of his cloak was still in place. “I don’t want the entire city knowing my business.” The guard he’d taken down was still writhing on the floor. “You should sit him up.” Zaxe motioned toward the man. “He’ll breathe easier.”

  Reman waved his hand at one of his guards, and he immediately went to do his employer’s bidding. The injured man was propped up against a wall, and the guard returned to his position. Seemed Reman wasn’t much different from Helldrick and others like him. They ruled their small empires with an iron fist, and their men were expendable. Only this one hid his cruelty behind a façade of graciousness.

  It made him worse in Zaxe’s eyes. At least the others didn’t pretend to be something they weren’t.

  “Now you are questioning my integrity along with my hospitality. No one speaks of what goes on inside these walls. Not if they know what’s good for them.” He shook his head and sighed. “It’s a sad state of affairs. Don’t you agree?” he asked Jamaeh.

  She inclined her head. “It is a sad state of affairs.” Her skin was pasty and a bead of sweat rolled down her temple, but she tilted her chin up and met their host’s gaze.

  “Why did you bring him to my establishment?”

  “Everyone knows that there is no better source of information in Badwa. You know everyone, are aware of everything that happens here.”

  Reman stroked his beard and smiled. “True enough.”

  The bastard was eating up the flattery. While Zaxe understood what she was doing, he didn’t like her pumping up this guy’s ego.

  “I knew if anyone knew where to find Helldrick, it would be you.”

  The smile vanished. “That foreign devil owes me money.” Calculation gleamed in his eyes. “Maybe I should get it from his daughter.”

  Jamaeh never flinched. As brave as any warrior, more beautiful than a queen with her red and black braids falling around her shoulders, she shrugged. “To my knowledge, the only daughters he recognizes all live on Mortis. You could try them.”

  They weren’t on Mortis any longer, but none of them needed to know that. The other daughters of Helldrick were safe on Gravas. What must it have been like for her, to know her father recognized some of his daughters but not her?

  Reman made a noncommittal sound as he reached out and plucked a plump fig from the red ceramic bowl on the table. “He never had any use for you, did he? I heard he’s claimed his younger son. Seems his other one, the one who looked like him, died recently.”

  This time, she flinched. Her weak spot was her brother. He’d suspected as much after reading the file the computer had put together. Seems it was common knowledge.

  “He can’t have Esau.” She slapped a hand on the table and leaned inward. “He cares nothing for my brother.”

  This time, their host picked up his wine and swirled the ruby liquid. They weren’t offered refreshments, an obvious snub after Zaxe’s earlier comment. “Men always want sons.” Again, it was a slam against her, but she took it without giving any indication of her thoughts or feelings. The only way to get that good at something was if you’d had years of practice and training.

  “I wish to find Helldrick,” Zaxe interjected. Reman was enjoying his subtle mental torture. Another mark against him.

  “What you wish is of no matter.” He took a sip of wine and set the goblet aside. “Who you are? Now that is of interest.” He picked up a linen napkin and press
ed it to his lips. “Remove your hood.”

  “And if I don’t?” He needed to test the man. See how far he would go.

  This smile reminded him of a predator waiting to take down a prey. “It’s your choice, but every time you refuse, I’ll simply have my men remove a piece of Jamaeh’s clothing. It will be interesting to see which of you breaks first.”

  ****

  Jamaeh flushed hot and then cold. Her shirt was stuck to her back. She counted backward from one hundred. Something she’d always done to help center herself in times of stress. If she could go back to this morning, she’d roll over and stay in bed.

  It was odd how one decision could change the course of your life. She’d almost put off the market until tomorrow. If she had, she’d never have met Zaxe, not ended up on the wrong side of Samar, and certainly wouldn’t be in this situation.

  This was the most dangerous spot she’d ever been in, and that was saying something, considering who her father was. Her previous dealings with Reman had been over small things, and she’d always led with flattery and small gifts, feeding his ego. She’d heard rumors of his temper but had never seen it in action until tonight. It was cold and biting, his tongue able to flay with little effort.

  What have I done?

  The life she’d painstakingly built one slow piece at a time was crumbling around her. If Reman blacklisted her, no one in the city would trade with her for fear of retaliation. And that was the least of her worries. Her life itself was now in jeopardy because of some stranger she’d met only hours before. If she ever wanted proof that her instincts sucked, that she’d been born under an unlucky cloud, she had definitive proof.

  Men were all alike. Women were nothing but pawns in the games they played. Disposable pieces, cast aside when no longer useful.

  She’d rather die than be stripped by Reman’s men. The knife strapped to her belt was within easy reach. Her fingers flexed, but she kept her hands in her lap. Let them think she was nervous rather than preparing to fight.

  The silenced stretched, each second an hour. It was Reman who finally broke it. “Our new guest needs some incentive.” He jerked his head to the man behind her. “Remove her cloak.”

  It’s only a cloak. It’s only a cloak.

  But it was so much more. It was her badge of independence. Unlike most women who favored gauzy, colorful ones, hers was white and heavier like the men’s.

  Fear tickled her throat. She bit down on the inside of her mouth, swallowing back her scream of rage. Fuck this!

  She flowed to her feet, undid the clasp, and tossed the garment at her feet. “Is this what you want?” She held her arms out by her sides, still respectably clad in pants and a shirt. Her breasts were bound to make them appear smaller than they were. It was something she’d done since she’d entered her teenage years and it became harder to hide her gender.

  Reman’s mouth tightened, his nostrils flared. Fire flashed in his eyes. He didn’t like being thwarted. “If you’re so eager, take off another layer.”

  Why hadn’t she kept her temper? The gods knew she’d been forced to do so her entire life, ignoring snubs and taunts meant to hurt, pretending the shoves and pinches of other children didn’t hurt.

  Tears of fury burned in her eyes, but she blinked them back. Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. “I just met this man this afternoon. He hired me to bring him to you for information. I’m not paying for his sins.” There’d been enough of that in her life.

  “You brought him here, therefore the debt is yours. Maybe next time you’ll choose your clients a little more carefully.”

  There wouldn’t be a next time, and not because she’d never be stupid enough to do something like this again. She’d defied him to his face and she was a woman. In his world view, women existed to serve whatever needs he had. Up until tonight, she’d amused him, so he’d indulged her. She could read it as easily as she could the words of a book. Whatever happened between him and Zaxe, Reman would make her pay.

  If she managed to get out of here, she’d have to run. But where? None of the territories were exactly welcoming, and she had no family to sponsor her, no essential skills. Traders were a dime a dozen. She couldn’t exactly go to her father for help. The bastard wouldn’t be more likely to return her to Reman … for a fee.

  As always, she was on her own.

  Reman chose a plump fig from the bowl and bit off a piece. “I’m waiting.” His guards took a step toward her. She took a deep breath and brought her fingers to the front of her shirt.

  “Enough.” Zaxe’s deep voice cut through the room with the force and precision of a machete through a coconut. “Once you see me, there is no going back.” With those ominous words, he lowered his hood.

  Relief flooded her. Since her knees were weak, she lowered herself back down to the cushion. With all the attention on Zaxe, she swirled her cloak back around her and fastened it. It took several tries since her fingers were trembling.

  What was the big deal about his appearance anyway? She’d seen him. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. Maybe he’d only paid her because he planned to take the money back when he killed her.

  Gods, her imagination was running wild with scenarios. This was nothing more than a power play between men. Like animals in the wild, both of them were trying to assert their dominance. A hysterical laugh tickled the back of her throat, seeking escape. She clamped her back teeth together.

  The lamplight reflected off Zaxe’s dark skin. Reman was handsome in a refined way. Zaxe was much like the weapon he was named after—blunt and powerful. His lips were full, his nose slightly too large, his cheekbones prominent, yet it all came together to create a commanding presence.

  “See.” Reman threw his arms out by his sides and raised his hands upward. “Was that so difficult? I expected you to be hideously deformed, but you’re a man like any other. You enjoy being mysterious.” He shot her an aside. “Makes him more irresistible to the ladies, no?”

  The urge to roll her eyes was almost too much. She opted to look at her lap to be on the safe side.

  “You are Zaxian,” he continued. Reman did like to hear himself talk, and they were a captive audience. “You do look familiar. What is your name?”

  “Zaxe.” Jamaeh was surprised he gave it so easily after the battle over the cloak.

  “Come, my friend. Do not lie now that we’ve made such progress. That is a weapon, not a name.” She’d said the same earlier. He’d likely continue to hear it every time he met someone.

  “It is mine.”

  “Not a talkative fellow, are you?” He took a sip of wine. “That’s fine. There are ways to make you talk. I find them more enjoyable.”

  “Where is Helldrick?”

  “Why should I tell you?”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  The back and forth was fast and fascinating. It was like watching two deadly cobras dance, each seeking a vulnerable spot in their opponent to strike. She couldn’t look away.

  “As I said, he owes me considerable money.”

  “How much?” Zaxe leaned across the table and plucked a fig from the bowl. The man either had a death wish or balls of titansteel, rumored to be the most indestructible metal in the universe. She was more inclined to believe the latter was true.

  He bit down on the sweet treat. His teeth flashed white and straight. And when he licked his upper lip, she followed the path of his tongue. Heat pooled low in her belly.

  Stop it! The warning helped her focus, but nothing could make her look away.

  “One hundred thousand Alliance credits.”

  Jamaeh put her hand out to catch herself before she toppled over. “One hundred thousand.” The hoarse whisper was barely audible.

  “I only advanced him fifty, but he promised double the return. Something about some piece of tech he was involved in selling.”

  Zaxe’s entire body stiffened before he relaxed. He knew what that was about. And if they got out of this
alive, she was going to make him tell her. Gods, was Helldrick involving Esau in this scheme?

  “I’ll make his debt good if you help me find him.”

  Shock reverberated through her. What had Helldrick done that he’d give up so much to find him?

  No, not just find him. Dear gods, Zaxe was going to kill him. That was why he was so eager. There was no other reason she could think of. She swallowed hard, praying she didn’t lose her supper.

  “Now that’s an interesting proposition. How do I know you’ll pay up? I’ll take it in advance.”

  Zaxe shook his head. “Fifty thousand up front. If the information you give me leads me to finding Helldrick, I’ll give you the other fifty when I return for my ship. That way, you at least recoup your original investment.”

  He tapped his finger against his lips before stroking his beard. “You have audacity. I like that. Done. Payment before information, you understand.”

  This was really happening. They were going to get out of here alive.

  Zaxe reached into his pocket. Two of the guards pulled blasters, aiming for his heart. He raised his hand to show his communicator. “Where do you want the money wired?”

  “Now? You’re paying now?” Reman threw back his head and laughed. “My friend, what is the rush?”

  “Time is of the essence. The account.”

  Her spine itched but she wouldn’t scratch it, would do nothing to bring attention her way. She’d likely lost two pounds tonight, all of it sweat. She wanted away from here, to go home, wash away the day, and figure out what to do next. But that wasn’t going to happen. Zaxe was going to be on Helldrick’s trail. She was sticking to him like a burr to a mulkey’s hide until they found him.

  Whether he killed her father mattered little to her. What became of her brother did.