Ivar's Escape (Assassins of Gravas Book 2)

by N. J. Walters

  A tree root seemed to grab him as he went by. He went down hard, his body slamming into the ground. He swallowed back the cry of surprise and breathed through the pain that shot through his chest.

  Del was by his side almost before he hit the dirt. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  He shoved his hands under him and pushed until he was kneeling. His ribs squeezed his lungs, making him wheeze. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not, but we have to keep moving. Get up.” With one of her arms around his waist, she practically pulled him upright. It was go with the momentum or pass out from the pain.

  Even though the air was cool, he was burning up. He staggered, leaning heavily on her. Her build was slight, but she was surprisingly strong, never wavering as she supported him.

  “Not much farther,” she told him.

  He concentrated on that promise as he put one foot in front of the other. Each lungful of air hurt. His feet were bruised but so was the rest of his body.

  He ceased to see anything around him, every part of his being concentrating on going forward. When she stopped, he almost fell to his knees in relief.

  “Now we go up.”

  There was no way he could climb.

  I can do this.

  He might have escaped, but they weren’t safe. If it was only himself at risk, he might lie down where he was and take the chance he wouldn’t be discovered. But Del had jeopardized her own safety to help him.

  A rock wall faced him. There wasn’t a path, but there was a narrow ledge. Placing his hands against the wall for support, he edged along behind her, following her up the side of the small mountain. She moved like a jungle cat, sleek and sure. The cloak she wore no hindrance.

  The sun’s rays hit his face, warming his skin. He raised his head, shocked to see the town in the distance. How far had they traveled?

  “Keep going,” she called out.

  He blinked, not surprised to see black spots in his vision after looking at the sun. Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and breathed heavily. Gathering the last of his reserves, he pushed upward, following the gently sloping path and Del as both led him to a small landing.

  Surely this wasn’t their destination. It would barely hold the two of them if they sat.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, she disappeared.

  Heart racing, he shuffled as fast as he could. Had she fallen? There’d been no noise at all. Had the mountain swallowed her whole?

  Maybe this entire thing was nothing more than a dream, a hallucination. Maybe even now, he was lying back in his cell on the verge of death.

  No! Every cell in his body protested. Del was very real.

  She poked her head out of the mountain. “Hurry.”

  Was his vision damaged somehow? There was no way to know. It seemed an eternity before he reached the small landing. It was only then he saw the crack in the wall wide enough for a small woman to slide between.

  Everything in him rebelled against the idea of leaving the rising sun and fresh air to bury himself in a cave. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he took a step back.

  Del was suddenly beside him, taking his hand. “Trust me.”

  He wished he could see her face, could see her eyes in the sunlight, but the cloak hid her as surely as if she was smothered in darkness.

  Nodding, he turned his back on the light and followed.

  ****

  It was stupid of her not to anticipate how difficult it would be for him to enter a cave. After being locked up in a dark prison for weeks on end, it would be like trading freedom and being buried alive.

  His fingers tightened around hers to the point of pain. She ignored it and pulled him after her down the narrow break between the thick walls. “Not much farther.” This cave held a secret that had shocked her when she’d discovered it during her explorations.

  The shadows suddenly gave way and light filled a large room with a twenty-foot ceiling. The light was courtesy of several slits in the rock. They were natural, not manmade—she’d checked—and allowed light in while keeping out the worst of the wind and weather.

  He released her and stared up, turning in a slow circle. Her heart clenched at the sheer wonder on his face. Watching him in the sunlight illuminated just how bad a shape he was in. His shirt was in shreds, giving her a glimpse of battered and scared flesh beneath.

  “There’s more. Follow me.”

  “Wait.” His urgent call made her stop and turn back. Hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, he studied her.

  “What?”

  “I want to see you.” He slowly made his way to her. “You were in disguise the first time we met. And tonight you’ve kept yourself covered in a cloak and hood. Who are you, Del?”

  Her stomach clenched at the thought of revealing herself. It went against all her training. It should be easy to toss back the hood, but she couldn’t.

  Ivar slowly raised his hands, as though not to startle her. Smart man. He fingered the rough fabric of the cloak that concealed her identity.

  To her utter surprise, he dropped his hands back down by his sides.

  “When you’re ready.” His softly spoken words had her eyes prickling. She blinked several times and swallowed heavily.

  “Follow me.” Turning her back on him and the unwanted emotions he evoked, she stalked down the path on her left and followed it a short way until the air grew warmer. She entered a smaller cavern, the ceilings slightly lower, but still fairly high. Like the outer chamber, there were several slits in the rock. They were smaller but still, it allowed in enough light for them to be able to see without needing candles or a lamp.

  He was behind her, staying close. His footsteps suddenly stopped. “Is that a hot spring?”

  “Yes. Strip and get in. The water will not only clean you but the minerals in it will ease some of your aches.” She’d stored the supplies she’d scavenged in here and went to retrieve them.

  A ragged moan reached her ears. She spun around and found herself staring at Ivar’s back. The remains of his shirt were on the ground. Scars in various stages of healing covered the broad expanse, along with several huge purpling bruises.

  “Are your ribs broken?” Why hadn’t he told her? Not that it would have made much of a difference in her plans. Ribs would mend. Death was permanent.

  “Likely cracked but healing.” He dropped his pants, displaying a well-rounded ass and muscled legs. What had he looked like before his captivity if he was still in such good shape after weeks of imprisonment and starvation?

  He stumbled toward the water and stepped in, hissing out a breath as his feet hit the water. His bare feet. It hadn’t occurred to her to bring clothes for his rescue. At least she had some clean things for him to wear when he was done.

  I’m a killer, not a nursemaid.

  Still, she wasn’t totally without skills. She retrieved her pack and pulled out a small medipack. It was basic, but it would have to do.

  Ivar hadn’t moved, the water only just past his ankles.

  “There’s a ledge just a few steps in. You can sit on that.” Medipack in hand, she went to him, unable to stay away. Even in prison, he’d exuded a life-force, an energy that was undeniably masculine.

  “Right.” He took one step, then another. She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t fall. She wanted to help but wasn’t sure he’d take it. And she wasn’t sure how to offer. It wasn’t something she’d ever done beyond her siblings. And they rarely wanted or needed help. They’d all been trained to be independent.

  Her leg muscles tensed as he lowered himself. Her arm muscles did the same as he finally leaned back and sighed.

  “Thank you.” The relief in his voice touched her like a caress.

  “You’re welcome.” Shoving away all emotion, she briskly strode to the edge of the water and set down the medipack. “After you’re clean, there’s salve to put on your bruises. It will ease the pain and speed healing. Not sure how much effect it’ll have on the cracked rib.”


  “The heat from the water will help. Outside a medibay, I’d say the only thing that will help is time.”

  She sat on the ground, her cloak still wrapped around her like a protective shield. “Just how much do you remember?” She hadn’t really questioned his honesty, but now she wondered. Had she even broken the right man out of prison?

  She was going to be extremely pissed if he wasn’t Ivar.

  His shoulders tensed, the muscles bunching before they relaxed again. “Like I told you, I can map the universe and seem to have a basic working knowledge of most of the planets and outposts. I’d be at home at a formal dinner. And I speak many languages.”

  “Do you understand what I’m saying?” she asked in the language of her home world of Zaxus. She and her brother practiced daily whenever they were together so as not to lose that part of their heritage.

  “Yes, I do,” he replied in the same language, his accent flawless. “Is that where you’re from? Zaxus, right?”

  “I was born there. It was long ago.” She switched back to Alliance Standard, not wanting to acknowledge the part of her that still felt like an orphaned child, afraid and adrift in a world she didn’t understand.

  He tilted his head back and sighed. “It’s a gift to remember where you come from.”

  “Sometimes.” The few good memories she’d retained from her early childhood were tainted by the violent deaths of her parents, of being orphaned on a strange planet, of going hungry and fighting to stay alive.

  Needing to move, to do something, she sprang to her feet and went back to the bag of supplies. It only took her a few seconds to find what she was looking for.

  “Here.” She set a nourishment bar, a bottle of nutritional liquid, a cloth, and a bar of cleaning soap beside him. “The soap and cloth are primitive, but it’s all they have here.” There were no gel-cleansing units to be found on Tortuga.

  “I’m grateful for anything that allows me to get clean.”

  Unable to look away, she watched as he rubbed the hard bar over the softer cloth and began to stroke it over his face and neck. His moans of pleasure settled over her, making her skin hot and itchy. He was obviously undernourished, but there were still muscles under the skin that rippled in his arms and chest as he washed away weeks of grime and dirt and dried blood.

  He’d gone for the cleaning supplies before the food.

  Ivar—at this point she was going to assume she was right about his identity—ducked his head under the water, rubbing his hands over his hair. When he rose, he was gasping for air and clutching his ribs. “Remind me not to do that again.” His lips turned up slightly.

  His good humor, in the face of all he’d been through, thawed the icy barrier around her heart. “Do you want me to cut your hair and trim your beard?” The offer was out before she could stop herself.

  “Would you?”

  Here was her chance to make some excuse and back out, but she nodded instead. “I can’t guarantee how good it will be.”

  “Anything is an improvement. Do you want me out of the water?”

  “No, stay there.” The angle worked, not to mention she couldn’t see him below the waist. Probably better that way. He was a man she’d helped escape from prison, the brother of her sister’s husband, not a man to be ogled.

  There was a small pair of scissors in the medipack. “These aren’t great, but they’ll do.” Kneeling behind him, she tried to pull her fingers through his tangled hair. It was long and thick, some of it matted. That was what she concentrated on first.

  He remained still as she cut hank after hank of long, dirty hair away, setting it aside to bury later. She had no idea where the hot spring drained and didn’t want to dump hair into it that might come out somewhere else. The cleansing bar wasn’t a problem as it didn’t lather much and the suds would be diluted by the water.

  She lost herself to the task, enjoying combing her fingers through his shorter locks. When she lightly massaged his scalp with her fingertips, he groaned and tilted his head back, as though seeking more of her touch.

  Delphi pulled back and set the scissors aside. “Done. Can you wash it on your own or do you need help?” Please don’t say you need help.

  “I think I can manage.” He ran the soap over his hair and scalp but inhaled sharply when he tried to scrub. Having his hands raised like that had to be painful.

  Suck it up, Delphi. “Let me.” Getting to work, she scrubbed his hair before cupping her hands to ladle water over his head. She did it over and over until it was clean.

  He eased around to his side. “Thanks for the haircut and the help.” He leaned forward, getting closer to her. His hand stretched out … toward the scissors. She grabbed them before he could. The corners of his mouth tightened. “You going to cut my beard, too?”

  He hadn’t been reaching for a weapon to hurt her. Or had he? She only had his word.

  Ivar sighed, leaned back, and exposed his throat. What was wrong with him? How could he make himself so vulnerable to her? He’d seen what she could do back at the prison.

  “If you want to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunities.” His honesty struck her hard. There were depths to his courage. He might not know his name or history, but he understood who he was at the core of his being.

  Delphi set the scissors aside, stood, and slowly removed her cloak, tossing it aside. Her hands shook as she allowed him to see her real face for the first time. It angered her that she even cared what he thought.

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “Hello, Del.”

  “Delphi.” She gave him her real name as she slowly sank back to her knees and picked up the scissors.

  This time when he reached out, he touched her face, skimming his fingers over her cheek. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Delphi.”

  Chapter Six

  She was breathtakingly gorgeous. Her skin was as dark as the rich soil of Albion 5. And it was soft beneath his fingertips. There was no sign of the pockmarks from the other night. That had been part of her disguise.

  Her lips were full, her chin narrowed slightly. That, along with her high cheekbones, gave her an exotic appearance.

  This was not a woman any man would forget.

  Her hair fell to her shoulders in thin corkscrew curls that danced whenever she moved her head. She wasn’t overly tall, maybe five-five, and lean, but she was stronger than she appeared.

  It was her eyes that truly captured him, spoke to him. They were dark and soulful, giving him a glimpse of uncertainty and pain before being shuttered tight.

  “You done staring?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, the posture a defensive one.

  “You’re the most striking woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She gave an amused snort. “Likely the only one you remember.”

  His lips twitched. “I’ll give you that.” A flash of a large, ornate room filled with people popped into his head and disappeared again.

  “What is it?” she demanded.

  “Another image. A large gathering of some kind.” He closed his eyes for a brief second and took a deep breath. It was hard not to know who he was, what the flicker of memory might mean.

  “Give it time.” She squeezed his shoulder and then picked up the scissors again. “You still want me to cut your beard?”

  “Yes.” He trusted her, as much as he did anyone. While he still wasn’t sure what her plans for him were, he assumed he was safe enough, for now. Otherwise, she would have killed him already. She’d had no trouble taking out the guards back at the prison. He leaned back, presented her with his throat, and watched intently as she leaned over him.

  She wore no perfume, no scent that would give her away, but he caught a hint of something sweet. His body responded, his cock stirring for the first time in his memory. Good thing his lower half was hidden in the depths of the hot spring.

  Best not to show an erection around a woman with a pair of shears.

  With swift precision, she trimmed the excess hair from his face,
leaving only a short, even layer. “That looks pretty good. You’ll blend better in a crowd.”

  “Are we going somewhere?” He leaned his arms out along the edge of the hot spring. The move served two purposes. It made him seem relaxed, but in reality, it would allow him to push himself up in a hurry if he needed to defend himself.

  “Eventually.” She tossed the scissors aside and gathered the pile of hair. After getting to her feet, she moved off to a far corner.

  “Where are you doing?”

  “Burying this. Best not to let it fall in the spring just in case it empties close to town.” Going to her knees, she grabbed a rock and began to dig. Her reasoning impressed him. She impressed him. Dangerous and smart—a winning combination.

  Since the bar and bottle of nourishment were within reach, he consumed both. It went against everything he did know about himself to allow her to work while he lounged in the water, but offering to help would only likely annoy her.

  Independence was stamped all over her.

  And while that was fine and good, no one stood alone, or should have to. There was strength in numbers.

  Why do I think that?

  He chewed the final piece of the bar. There wasn’t much taste, but it was nutritionally dense, giving his body what it was starved for.

  He felt not quite himself because he had no idea who he was, but better than he had since gaining consciousness. He flexed one arm and then the other. Then did the same with his legs. There was no denying he was weak, but that would change.

  He had a score to settle.

  “You planning on staying in there all day?” Wiping her hands, she strolled over to the edge of the water.

  “Maybe.” He’d never take being clean for granted again. For good measure, he took the bar of soap and cloth and scrubbed every inch of himself, ignoring his ribs when they protested.

  Delphi tilted her head back, a sunbeam catching her face, illuminating her beauty. She looked like a goddess, beautiful yet primal. “We both need to eat and get some sleep.”