Born of Legend (79 page)

As if she were the air he needed to breathe in order to live.

Until he pulled back suddenly and left her breathless and wanting.

Panting, he nipped at her chin and gave her the look of a starving beggar eyeing a banquet. “I don't want to be selfish and hurt you or the babies.”

His thoughtfulness and the sincere fear she saw in his stralen eyes brought a lump to her throat. This was why she loved him so. For all his bluster and irritable ways, he always tried to put her and their children first. No matter his own needs or wants.

Even when he'd run, he'd done it in an effort to protect them, not out of his own selfishness or neglect. “You won't.”

He scowled fiercely. “Are you sure? I can wait … trust me on that. While I don't enjoy it, I have the control of a Demurrist hermitic saint.”

Laughing, she arched a brow at him. “Do you think I'd take a chance on harming them or you?”

“No. I know you wouldn't.” His eyes darkened with inner turmoil. “I just don't want to hurt you, Shara.”

“You only hurt me when you leave me.”

He brushed his thumb down her lips. “Then I will never leave you again.”

She smiled at him. “I'm going to hold you to that promise.”

Jullien was about to turn the water off when she slowly sank to her knees in front of him. Mesmerized, he couldn't move as she took him into her mouth and made him see stars with her exquisite torture. His head spun from the pleasure of it. Unable to believe what a lucky bastard he was, he sank his hand in the wet strands of her hair while her hands stroked him in sync with her tongue.

Emotions tore through him as he surrendered himself to her. How a female so precious could have any tenderness for something as worthless as him, he'd never understand. The last thing he'd wanted was to leave her or hurt her.

I'm no good for you, Shara.
He knew it for everything he wasn't worth.

Thank the gods she couldn't see it. And on the heels of that thought, he came in a blinding wave that left him weak and panting, and at her complete and utter mercy as she continued to tease his body until she'd wrung every last bit of pleasure from him.

With the sweetest smile, she stared up into his eyes. “Better?”

He traced the line of her jaw as he marveled at her beauty, and the miracle that had brought her into his life. “Yeah.” He helped her to her feet. “But I'm not done with you.” After turning the water off, he gently dried her, then led her to the bunk, only to discover it was a little too small for the two of them.

Growling, he whimpered in disappointed misery. Had she not been pregnant, he would have been a bit more creative and inventive somewhere else, but he didn't want to stress her body or risk injuring the babies.

She actually laughed at his pain as he slid off the bunk to stare down at her with a stern pout. “I wasn't married at the time I bought the ship, so I didn't really think about this aspect of the sleeping arrangements. Sorry.”

“Fine, but when we get home…” He raked a hungry glower over her naked body.

“I'm all yours.”

He kissed her cheek before he helped her off the narrow bunk and handed her a clean set of clothes. When he started for his old set, Ushara stopped him.

“You have fresh gear in the closet. Please, for the love of the gods, use it.”

Arching his brow, he smirked at her. “You were that certain of success?”

“Yes. One way or another, I was coming home with you.”

He laughed as he opened the closet to see that she wasn't joking. She had a full Tavali-sanctioned wardrobe in there for him. “Glad I didn't fight you.”

“You would have lost. Painfully.”

Yeah. He would have definitely, judging by this amount of determination.

As soon as they were dressed, Ushara's link buzzed. She answered it to find Trajen on the other end. “Hi, boss.”

“Hi. Is your lesser half with you?”

“Right here.” She handed the link to Jullien.

He turned the speaker on while he finished dressing. “What is it?”

“We want to make sure we have an accurate—and I use this word rather loosely, 'cause let's face it, they're not all here—head count. Sixteen bodies? Is that what you have in storage?”

Jullien turned bashful again as he glanced uncomfortably at her, then mumbled, “Um … eighteen, total.”

“Oh,
eighteen,
” Trajen said with mock happiness. “Hear that, Thray? And where, pray tell, might these extra bodies be stashed? Dare I ask?”

Jullien bit his lip. “They kind of slipped and fell into a bad situation. Check out the two yellow buckets in the freezer. But you might not want to open them, 'specially if you've eaten recently.”

“Oh, okay, then. Thanks for the warning. Appreciate it, little buddy.” Trajen's voice dripped with sarcasm. “And just for the record, Jules. Eighteen isn't a mission. It's the making of a serial killer.”

“Hey, now. I didn't start this shit. I was only looking for my cousin and yaya. They're the ones who brought friends to the party. I tried to reason with them, and explained the future consequences of their unreasonable actions should they pursue conflict with me. They thought I was a
cocúpün
tiziran. I merely educated them on the fact that I was not.”

“Ah, well, lesson learned. Filed under
Ew
—and next time you tell me not to look in a bucket, I will definitely listen.” Trajen choked and coughed. Then cleared his throat. “And nice Warsword, by the way. I don't even want to know how you came into
its
possession. We'll handle it with the respect it deserves and make sure it's properly taken to your house. I have to go vomit now.” He cut the transmission.

Jullien handed the link back to Ushara.

“Eighteen bodies?”

He shrugged. “Trust me, Shara. They were scum who deserved what they got, and worse. Besides, the girls and Vas need a college fund. My family owes them that much, and I sleep better knowing there are eighteen less psychos after you and them.”

“Eighteen?” she repeated as the full horror of that number circled back around her mind. “Is that the total for all of them, or just the most recent conflict?”

“Recent.”

She covered her face as her head reeled. “How many did you—?”

“Does it really matter? Most were Anatoles, and the rest served under them. Need I remind you what you and your family said to me the first time we met? You weren't wrong about us.”

“Well-taken point.” She moved to hug him about his lean waist. “You're right … you're right.” She frowned as she stared up at him. “Are you okay? They were your family.”

Jullien drew a ragged breath before he nodded. “Not all, but yeah. Sadly, I have no remorse. Anymore than they'd have had they killed me. Which is why I ran like I did. I realized it's not normal to feel like this. To be able to compartmentalize killing my own blood the way I do. I'm so broken.”

Ushara placed her hand to his chest where his tattoo held their names above his heart as a permanent homage of his faith and love. “You're not like them, Jules. And you're not broken.”

“Definitely chipped.”

She laughed before she kissed him. “I'll give you
cracked
. But we can glue that back together. Besides, you're no worse than your brother, Nykyrian. I daresay, as a League command assassin, he's killed a lot more for a lot less reason.”

As Jullien opened his mouth to respond, her link went off again. He growled. “I forgot how annoying that thing was.”

Sighing, she answered it to find Chayden on the other end. “Yes, we got him finally. Why?” With a stern frown, she turned the speaker on. “Can you repeat that for Jules?”

“Hey, Dagger, I'm neck deep in some irritating family drama, and I just had a most
fascinating
conversation with a friend in The Sentella in the middle of it.”

Dread filled him at where this was going. “Yeah?”

“He was asking me all kinds of questions about
your
wife, and if I had any information on someone who was going buck-wild on the Andarion royal family that was in exile. Seems a bunch of them have gone missing lately.”

Jullien definitely didn't like where this conversation was headed. “What did you tell him?”

“I don't know nothing about any missing Andarion royals. I'm Tavali. And Tavili backs Tavili. Jewels, alcohol, and cheap women's all I know. Snitches get stitches. But I wanted you to know what I know, which isn't much, I grant you.”

Jullien snorted at his odd friend. “Who in The Sentella was it?”

“Running mate of Nyran Venik, which is why I wanted you to know about it. Dumbass didn't know I knew he knew Nyran. But Psycho Bunny knows all and sees all. I just don't let others know I know, you know? Except for a few. You being among those few.”

“Thanks, Chay.”

“Anytime. And I'm still locked over here, helping my sister deal with her husband and the nuclear fallout of being disinherited. But if you guys need anything, don't hesitate to call, or if I hear anything else, I'll let you know.”

Ushara scowled. “Your sister? Mack?”

“No. Not Mack. I actually have a real sister of my own. Full-blooded. It's a long story. At any rate, she needs me right now, and sadly for her, I'm about all she's got. So I'm here for her. But I will be there for you, should y'all need me. Holler at yo' bunny.”

She smiled at his silliness. “Okay, Bunny, appreciate it.”

“Later, Andarions.”

Her smile faded as she saw the expression on Jullien's face. “What's wrong?”

“Nyran. He's still untouchable. As is my grandmother. After all
this,
I still couldn't get near them.”

“Jules … what did we discuss?”

“Let it go.”

“And what are you going to do?”

Jullien hesitated. He wanted to agree with her, he did. But deep inside, he had a feeling that this was far from over and that so long as they lived, his family was going to keep coming for him and for Ushara.

Even if he was dead.

After all, what good would it do for him to let go if they didn't? Because the one thing his family had taught him at a very early age—sometimes dead just wasn't dead enough.

 

C
HAPTER
30

Over the next few weeks, Jullien settled back in to the Gorturnum Cyperian StarStation with a shaky peace as they prepared for the imminent arrival of their daughters. After a stern “snubbing” that had lasted about half an hour and a lot of threatening should he ever leave again, Ushara's sisters had welcomed him back into the fold and forgiven him for leaving, as had her parents.

Vasili had been the most difficult one to face. Unlike Nadya, who had no real concept of time, he did. And the hurt in his eyes had been searing as Jullien went into his room to see him on his return.

At first, Vas had refused to meet his gaze.

“Vas, you know it had nothing to do with you, right?”

“Didn't feel like that.”

Jullien had sat beside him on the floor and watched while he played his game. “I know. But can I confide in you?”

Vas had paused his game to look up at him without comment. But the accusation in those pale eyes had been searing and had gutted Jullien to the core of his soul.

“Adults don't know what they're doing any more than kids do most of the time. We get scared and make mistakes, too. Sometimes bad ones. In this case, I had predators after me that I had to thin out to make sure they didn't find you or your mother. It's why I couldn't contact you. I didn't want them to use it to find you and leave another surprise for you in your backpack.”

Vasili scowled at him. “Truth?”

Jullien opened his shirt to show Vasili the tattoo that rested over his heart, where the boy's name was permanently inked on his flesh. “What do you think?”

“I think that hurt. Probably a lot.”

Jullien laughed. “Not as much as not being here with you.” He gave the boy a sheepish stare. “Am I forgiven?”

Vas smiled shyly and nodded. “I missed you, Paka.”

“Missed you, too.”

Ushara stepped back into the shadows as she watched Jullien pick up the other controller so that he and Vasili could play a round of the game that Jullien had sent while he was gone. Relief filled her that they appeared to be okay. Vasili had been so upset that she'd feared a permanent rift might have developed. Yet within a few minutes, he was laughing with Jullien as if nothing had ever been wrong.

Relieved beyond belief, she went to the nursery to check on the linens that had been delivered—one of the many things Jullien had taken care of for her. Even though he'd been gone, he single-handedly hired contractors to redesign the spare room off theirs into an amazing fantasy nursery unlike anything she could have imagined. She didn't even want to know what it'd cost. The soft pale pink, blue, and gray colors were soothing for their Andarion eyes, and the materials he'd chosen reminded her of walking into a cloud.

Each crib had a custom crown above it that held a sweeping fabric waterfall that cradled the crib to protect it and shield the babies from a stray draft. Somehow, he'd found a smaller version of the antique chandelier that hung in her bedroom for theirs and matching wall sconces. But one of her favorite pieces, aside from the antique white cribs, was the fabric ruffles on the bottom that fanned out in a luxurious waste of soft silk. His exquisite eye for such details was incredible.

Then again, for all his bluster, Jullien was an artist with the soul of a poet. When left alone, he could be the gentlest of beings. And this nursery was a window to that part of him.

Case in point, he'd made sure while they worked on the nursery for the girls to redo Vasili's room so that their son wouldn't feel left out. His bedroom was now designed to look like the interior of his favorite video game, right down to a fake stairway that vanished into the ceiling.