Clan and Conscience

by Tracy St. John

  Ospar glared at Jol as he said the last sentence. The man, damn his hide, gazed back with that unimpressed stare. Well, Nobek Jol could be as blasé as he wanted. He’d better remember his place and stay the hell out of Ospar’s way.

  * * * *

  After the meeting, Jol immediately assumed his duties as Ospar’s bodyguard. He followed the glowering Dramok to his office, wondering how hellish Itga’s director was going to make his life.

  The efficient and protective Imdiko Emano rose from his desk as they approached. His narrow gaze at Jol let the Nobek know he hadn’t won a fan with his earlier invasion of Ospar’s office.

  Emano’s attention diverted to his boss when Ospar said, “If I’ve got meetings, cancel them. I can’t deal with anyone today.”

  He went on into his office without another word. Jol paused at the Imdiko’s desk, reflecting on his background check of the man. Emano had been clanned for twenty years and employed at Itga for fifteen. He had a spotless record as far as lawfulness was concerned.

  As Emano turned his worried gaze to Jol, the guard gave him a list of his expectations. “From now on, only five people have ready access to the director: the owners, Head of Security Talu, myself, and you. Anyone else who wishes to see Dramok Ospar goes through me first. In addition, I require all the names of those who have appointments with him, no matter how distant in the future they are.”

  From inside the office, Ospar’s voice carried through the door. “Mother of All, that’s ridiculous.”

  “So is getting blown up in your own mine,” Jol retorted without glancing from Emano. He spoke again to the assistant. “I will need my own desk and chair, placed in the director’s office, if you’ll be so kind to arrange it. I’ll supply my computer and other necessities through the security department. I apologize for any imposition my presence will cause, but this is to keep the director safe. That is my foremost assignment.”

  Emano relaxed. He even gave Jol a slight smile as he nodded. “I’ll have the acquisitions department get you that desk and chair as quickly as possible.”

  “Thank you, Imdiko Emano.” Having won momentary approval from the dedicated aide, Jol went into Ospar’s office.

  The director stood at the huge picture window overlooking a stunning vista. Ospar wasn’t gazing at that, however. He scowled at Jol instead as the Nobek took a bugging sensor wand off his belt and began to sweep the room for listening devices.

  “I have a sound blocker. Besides, sweeping was done two days ago. The room is clean.”

  “Two days ago, no one was trying to kill you. At least, not that we know of.” Jol continued scanning.

  “How many times are you planning to bring that up?”

  “As often as you seem to require it.”

  “Door, close and lock.” Ospar’s tone seethed.

  Jol didn’t care. Let the blustering Dramok throw a tantrum. The Nobek would do his job in any event. He didn’t even look at Ospar as he stated, “I guess this is the part where you tell me how little my presence is appreciated?”

  “You’re damned right I’m not happy about it. I only agreed to this out of consideration for my uncles.”

  “At least you have consideration where self-preservation fails you.” The room was clean, and Jol put his wand in its pouch.

  Ospar was not done ranting, and his voice rose louder and louder with antagonism. “I have a job to do. I have a company to run. You are not impeding that.”

  Jol looked at him. Without mine dust covering him from head to toe, Ospar was handsome. Thinking about the grin he’d worn when he’d shown up for work that morning reminded Jol he could be even better looking. He’d aimed that smile right at Jol, and the Nobek had felt the man’s charm from half a corridor away. It had taken all his self-control to maintain his professionalism in the spotlight of that gaze. He’d wanted to return that disarming grin, that cheerful wave.

  No wonder Ospar’s supporters spoke of his allure and not his intimidations. The Dramok’s easy laugh, which was nowhere to be found now, had a power of its own. When he was jovial, he beguiled everyone around to laugh with him. Ospar had charm to spare. His dashing looks would make him attractive in any crowd, as did the strong body accentuated by well-cut clothes.

  Fine. He’s handsome and engaging when he wants to be. He may even be worth bending over his fine, custom-built desk. But not until Jol had gagged him with his fist. Ospar’s current attitude had discounted his earlier appeal…and pissed off his bodyguard.

  The Nobek told him, “I have an assignment also. That assignment is you. Keeping you alive, to be exact. All other considerations are not worth the first fuck to me, Director.”

  Ospar’s mouth dropped open in shock at the bald statement. His amethyst eyes grew large. “I should fire you for your disrespect.”

  Jol tried to maintain an indifferent attitude as he stated facts. “You could, but Nobek Talu will assign another member of security to the case. Your uncles would not be pleased either.”

  “They might not mind, given your blatant insubordination.”

  “My blatant insubordination is in direct response to your aggressive attitude and insistence I not do my job to my best ability. In any case, feel free to take your complaints to your uncles. We’ll see if they agree to you removing me from my position.” Jol took a step towards Ospar, staring into the other man’s eyes. “But if you deliver those complaints in person, I will be with you every step to ensure you arrive alive. Until a replacement is assigned, I will be at your back no matter where you go.”

  “If you’re trying to impress me with your loyalty, don’t bother.”

  “I don’t care a thing about you personally. It’s my duty I place the utmost importance on. I told Nobek Talu and your uncles I would protect you. Until they order me to do otherwise, that’s what I will do.”

  Ospar’s frustration rolled off him in waves. “I don’t think I like you.”

  “My heart breaks.”

  Ospar’s glare was so hateful that Jol had little compunction about returning it in kind. The director snarled at the overt hostility, his handsome face going feral for an instant. His fists closed. He even leaned a little closer.

  That part impressed Jol. Ospar had to know the Nobek could best him in a physical contest, yet he stood up to him. It wasn’t mere bullying—the man possessed real courage when he was making his case.

  Then Ospar ruined the momentary flash of respect. He flicked a dismissive hand at Jol, insulting him with the condescending gesture.

  Turning his back on the Nobek, Ospar stormed to his desk. Seconds later, he got to work, pounding on his computer’s keyboard.

  Jol breathed deeply, counting off the seconds, letting his ire subside. It took a lot of effort to smooth over the raw, jagged edges of his temper. He looked at the floor as he did so, not daring to look at the face he wanted to smash into a crater. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had punctured his usually steady disposition, inciting such an urge for unrestrained violence.

  After a few moments of being ignored, which afforded him the time he needed, Jol calmed. With his heartrate steady once more, he took stock of his immediate situation.

  No desk of his own to operate from. His ward pretending he wasn’t even in the room. Fine. He could still get a few tasks done. Ospar’s stubborn silence would allow Jol to operate with no distractions.

  He pulled out his handheld. He began gathering as much data about the syndicate as he could from every source he could imagine.

  As he did so, Jol found himself hoping his father could figure out what to do about those targeting Ospar. Otherwise, the ungrateful wretch’s good health might end up threatened by a much closer source.

  Chapter 5

  Ospar wasn’t as happy to be home as he usually was. As he stomped to the main entrance, he ignored Jol on his heels. His door was keyed to recognize him, and it slid open at his approach.

  Jol shoved him aside to enter the house first. “I will go in ahead
and ensure nothing dangerous has been introduced into the environment.”

  “How about introducing some good breeding into the environment? Shove me again, and I’ll break all your fingers.” Ospar marched in after him.

  Jol ignored him and investigated the greeting room, starting his inspection with the bar near the entrance. He paused to snarl at Ospar as the Dramok headed straight for the doorway that led further into the home. “You will wait for me to clear each space before you enter it.”

  “Fuck off. It’s my house, ground security confirmed no one has been here, and I’ll go where I want.” Ospar kept walking.

  The next thing he knew, he was flying through the air. He’d never seen Jol’s approach, but he sure as hell felt the man grab him. Ospar landed on the billowy soft lounger across from the bar, one of many luxurious seating options scattered in the large area meant for entertaining.

  Jol stood over him, his fierce visage more primal than ever. “I said stay in here!”

  Ospar stared up at him, stunned more at the security guard’s temerity than his speed and strength. The son of a bitch didn’t know when to quit with the whole bodyguard shtick. It was going to cost him.

  Though furious, Ospar wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t tangle with a Nobek like Jol and hope to preserve his hide. Yet the man would pay for putting his hands on Ospar.

  It was a vow the Dramok had every intention of honoring, or die trying to make happen.

  With a final snarl, Jol resumed inspecting the room. Ospar got up and stormed to the bar, which was apparently safe enough since his keeper hadn’t set it on fire or demolished it with his bare hands. Shaking with the force of his anger, Ospar fixed himself a drink and watched Jol inspect the frame of one of the numerous antique maps that had been collected and hung on the walls.

  “Don’t fuck those up. Each is worth more than you’d fetch on the slave market on Dantovon,” Ospar warned him. His interest in collecting ancient maps had waned as most of the other collections he’d had in the past. Nevertheless, the maps were lovely parchments, as well as valuable. His sporadic visitors found them impressive.

  Jol didn’t bother to respond or glance in his direction. Ospar wished the Nobek would wander back his way. He’d welcome the opportunity to spit bohut in the bodyguard’s face or break the bottle over his head.

  Jol did a circuit of the space, though he never came close enough to Ospar to grant his dangerous bohut-wasting dreams. Instead, he stood in the middle of the room, on a huge, handwoven rug that depicted geometric shapes in stunning colors. He announced, “The area is secure.”

  Ospar sneered. “Thanks. Glad you could ease my mind about that.”

  Jol snorted and left, heading down the hall. Ospar finished the first of what he was sure would be several drinks as he considered the situation.

  It was impossible, of course. Talu would have to assign someone else to guard him. Someone who wasn’t such an unmitigated asshole. Someone who would listen to those who outranked them and do as he was told.

  Ospar thought about the night before when he’d considered himself so alone in the wake of yesterday’s explosion. Ancestors, what he wouldn’t give to feel lonely right now. He hadn’t understood how good he’d had it.

  He poured himself another drink. It was a wonderful bottle of bohut, fine enough that he would normally save it for company. Company that seldom came. He had plenty of booze in the bar in the common room, but Ospar decided he deserved the quality stuff tonight. With what he was having to put up with, the high-end alcohol was more than justified. It was far better company than the hateful Nobek wandering about his home, nosing into who knew what.

  Besides, it was a heavy bottle. Perfect for cracking a Nobek’s skull if Jol tried to prevent Ospar from going where he wanted. Could he get so lucky?

  “Here’s hoping.” Ospar’s grin stretched in a thin, mean line across his face.

  His dearest wish didn’t come true, but his second-most did. There was no sign of Jol when Ospar entered the common room. He was willing to accept that as a victory of sorts. In fact, it delighted him. He found his usual grin to bestow on the uncaring sea creatures in their aquariums.

  His next order of business was the usual. He ordered the vid system on to check the latest in the political arena. Needing things as cozy and comfortable as possible, Ospar started a merry fire blazing in the firepit, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt, and sank onto the massive C-shaped lounger that curved around the pit with a sigh. Before devoting his attention to the happenings of the day, he got his handheld off his belt, ordered and paid for his dinner.

  Ospar realized the pettiness of the pleasure he took in not ordering food for Jol too. It was mean-spirited as hell to not offer the bodyguard a meal. At this point, he didn’t care. No one had said a word about him feeding the Nobek he didn’t want around, so the man was on his own. Fuck him.

  He stretched, then burrowed deeper into his well-stuffed lounger. The bohut was beginning to relax him from his countless woes. Sighing with the beginnings of recovered pleasure, he replayed footage of that day’s Royal Council proceedings. As the day’s committee meetings and proposed legislation played out, he cued up the territorial and district reports to run afterward. He indulged in fantasizing about being in the midst of the political action. Adding to his growing contentment was the continued absence of Jol from his immediate vicinity.

  The door announce went off. Nobek Nasty appeared in the doorway. “Are you expecting a visitor?”

  Ospar didn’t bother to look at him, at least not directly. He did watch the muscled silhouette out of the corner of his eye. It was so wrong for a man that looked that good to be such a bastard.

  Irritably shooing away appreciation of any kind, Ospar said, “My dinner has arrived. Since you’re no doubt going to glare, frisk, and interrogate the poor delivery man, be a nice boy and bring my meal to me when you’re done.”

  Jol stood motionless for a moment, staring at him. Ospar continued to keep his gaze on the vidcast, though he maintained a peripheral surveillance of the Nobek. He relaxed again when Jol left on feet as silent as when he’d shown up, heading down the hall in the direction of the greeting room.

  Ospar smirked. Win.

  Less than a minute later, Jol was in the room again. Ospar decided it would be a good time to acknowledge him.

  He glanced at the Nobek as Jol winged a covered food tray across the room in his direction. It landed at the edge of the firepit, where the flames crackled close. It caught on fire.

  “Asshole!” Ospar didn’t believe for a second that his bodyguard had misjudged the toss. He jumped up and rescued the tray, slapping the bit of flame licking over the compostable container. He opened it to inspect his meal and discovered the sauces had gotten mixed all over the various dishes within. The gourmet dinner he’d been looking forward to was ruined.

  He scowled at the impassive Nobek watching him. “That will come out of your pay.”

  “I think not. I’m your bodyguard, not your servant.” The cold voice was a foil for the blazing eyes.

  “No, you’re not qualified to be my servant. You’re not qualified for much at all, are you?”

  “Overqualified to save a rich boy from getting his stupid self killed.”

  “You’re a fucking piece of underachieving shit. Otherwise, you’d be a military officer or working for Global Security.”

  Jol’s upper lip lifted in a snarl, but he kept his tone controlled. “Do you think so little of Itga’s security force?”

  “No. Just you.” Ospar surveyed him. Again, he was forced to acknowledge how handsome the feral Nobek was with his well-drawn features, sleek black hair, and perfect amount of muscle displayed by his sleeveless uniform. A stunning package with little content, something he’d proved to himself earlier that day.

  Jol was near his own age, which proved how big of a failure the man had to be. “No motivation to make something of yourself, Nobek Jol? None of that vaunted warrior-breed courag
e to do more than watch over mostly automated mines?”

  “Or ignorant, spoiled Dramoks?”

  Ospar waved off the insult. “My guess is your father assigned you to guard me in an attempt to turn you into a real warrior. Talu must be dying of humiliation to be the sire of such a son.” The Dramok oozed with smugness. Talu’s challenge the day before, to learn what he could of opponents, had not fallen on deaf ears.

  Spending a few minutes to learn who his bodyguard was had been effort well spent. Jol’s furious stare was terrifyingly delicious. Ospar swallowed the fear, enjoying the victory of breaking through the Nobek’s inscrutable exterior.

  Jol’s growl of a voice rose the hair on his neck. “If you weren’t the pampered brat nephew of decent men, I’d see to it you regret every word.”

  “Pampered? I’ve worked my ass off for my uncles. I go out of my way to make them proud.”

  “Dramoks Tebrok and Sallid paid a small fortune for your schooling and training. You’ve had everything handed to you, you coddled prick.”

  Ospar’s raspy voice grew as snarly as Jol’s. “I’ve rewarded my uncles’ faith in me. Under my direction, Itga’s earnings have increased by half. I’ve paid them back handsomely for their investment. What have you done to compensate your father’s generosity? For giving you a position when you couldn’t get another?”

  “You don’t know that, you posturing worm. You know nothing about me.”

  “I know the men who make up the rest of our security force are older Nobeks retired from better service. Those men had proven themselves as honorable warriors long before they came to Itga. They’re not men barely out of training camp, at an age when most are eager to prove their bravery. They’ve risked their lives for honor and Empire. Coming close to death. Watching comrades fall.”

  Jol said not a single word. A fine tremor broke out over his frame.