Shields Lady (3 page)

his fingers lightly on the tabletop in a gesture of barely suppressed annoyance. "My own fault," he muttered. "I must have seen the bottom of too many ale glasses by the time Mara the sexy tavern wench sat down at my table. I was careless."

"About our business proposition," Sariana continued in a brisk tone.

            "What about it?" Gryph eyed his weapon kit and wondered if he was up to making a quick grab for it. The heaviness that gripped his muscles was fading, but not very rapidly. Whatever had been put into his ale had probably mixed with the alcohol already in his bloodstream and created a strong drugging effect. Given the small differences between a Shield's physical reactions and those of other people, it was predictable that the drug hadn't worked quite as planned.

Sariana spoke quickly. "A certain valuable object has

been stolen from the Avylyns. We wish to engage you to get it back for us."

Gryph glanced at her, considering. "Why didn't you just ask me straight out if I wanted a job? Why the

drug routine?'

            Sariana sighed. There was regret in her eyes but her voice didn't falter. "We sent three messages to the apartments you are renting. You chose to ignore all three."

            "You were behind those stupid little notes requesting a business meeting?" he asked in astonishment. If he'd known she'd been the author of those very formal, very elegant, very arrogant notes he would have been at the Avylyns' front door immediately.

            "Yes, as a matter of fact, I was," Sariana replied. "Now, as I was saying, if you hadn't ignored them - " "I ignored them," Gryph said calmly, "because I'm not looking for a job at the moment." Bryer spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of his nervousness. "Then why are you here? Shields

rarely spend much time in Serendipity or any other town unless they're looking for a job."

            "Or a wife," Gryph reminded him. The Avylyns stared at him.

            "I wondered if that might be your reason," Lady Avylyn said quietly. She looked uneasily at her daughter.

            Gryph could have told her not to worry about her precious Mara. He had absolutely no interest in the young woman. She might have made an amusing bed partner for one night, but she was not a potential Shieldmate. He had known that as soon as she had sat down across from him and asked him to buy her a glass of ale. He'd already had a fair amount to drink and he had given up his search for the

            evening. Under such circumstances, Mara had appeared temporarily interesting. Sariana was paying no attention to the undercurrents in the room. She seemed unaware of the Avylyns'

new source of anxiety as she plunged ahead with her business proposition. Gryph had to admire her perseverance. And her tongue. The latter never seemed to be still for long. He leaned on his hand and fantasized briefly about shutting her up with a kiss. It would be interesting to see how much longer she could continue to chatter once he had his tongue inside her mouth.

            "When you proved unwilling to meet with us," Sariana was saying crisply, "I made the decision to use a mild hypnotic in the hopes that it would put you into a more, shall we say, receptive state of mind while we negotiated. I realize that probably strikes you as somewhat bold, but under the circumstances I felt I had no other option."

            "Bold?" Gryph examined the word. "No, I wouldn't say it was bold. Dumb, perhaps. Stupid, maybe. But I don't think bold quite captures the spirit of such a piece of idiocy."

            Sariana's brows came together in a quelling expression. "Look, I have apologized for the inconvenience you have experienced. Believe me, I would not have attempted such a thing if we had not been quite desperate."

            "Inconvenience! Is that how you describe what you did to me? You have an interesting way with words, lady."

            "I am trying to explain to you exactly what happened so that we may proceed in a rational manner to conclude a perfectly reasonable business deal," Sariana said with obviously forced patience.

            "Plan A has obviously failed. Have you got a Plan B?" Gryph told himself that if he weren't feeling so rotten he might almost be enjoying himself. The lady was amusing, as well as a challenge.

            And she still had her small, silvered fingertips around his weapon kit. He knew she sensed its importance to him and he also knew she was frantically trying to figure out how to use the kit to get what she wanted. It would be interesting to see what she did next.

            Sariana Dayne was no great beauty, Gryph decided objectively. But her sleekly styled hair and quietly refined clothing made her stand out in comparison to the vivid Avylyns. He liked the sparkling intelligence in her hazel eyes, her small tilted nose and the fullness of her lower lip.

            She had vital, appealing features. She was the kind of woman who drew a man with more subtle lures than those used by giggling, fluff-headed beauties such as Mara Avylyn.

            "We don't have what you might call a Plan B," Sariana said slowly, tapping her silver nails absently against the black kit under her hand. "But I would like you to listen to our original proposal."

            "Did anyone warn you that a Shield's services don't come cheap?"

            Sariana rallied to the challenge as if she thrived on this sort of encounter. Her smile was more dazzling than ever. "I was told such services are quite expensive, when they can be purchased at all. I understand

you usually spend your days chasing bandits, but that you will occasionally take on private commissions."

            "Occasionally." Gryph tried a smile of his own. One that showed plenty of teeth. "For a price." "Yes, well, I should make it clear right from the start that the Avylyns have something of a cash flow

problem at the moment."

            "A cash flow problem," Gryph repeated blankly. "Just a small one," Sariana assured him breezily. "Nothing that. won't be under control within the next few months. It means, of course, that you would have to be willing to accept your payment at a later date than you might under most circumstances, but that shouldn't be a major hurdle in our negotiations."

            Gryph held up a palm in an effort to stow her down. He was finding it difficult to follow the conversation. "Wait a minute. You mean you want me to do the job now and then sit around and wait a few months for my pay?"

            Sariana lifted her chin. "I assure you, the Avylyns' cash flow problem will be under control very soon." Gryph glanced around at the elegantly dressed women of the clan. They stared back anxiously.

"There's enough jewelry hanging around the ladies' necks to finance several weeks or even months of my services. Assuming I'm willing to go to work for you."

            "Most of that lovely jewelry is in hock to the bank, I'm afraid," Sariana retorted cheerfully, as if it were a minor detail. "Collateral, you know. We needed to raise vast sums to revive the business. It's necessary that the Avylyns' continue to keep up appearances in the meantime, of course. They must continue to dress and entertain according to their social status. But I'm afraid there's no cash to spare from the personal accounts. And even if we could find a way to sell off some of the jewelry from the Avylyns' private collection, we would be highly reluctant to do so. The sort of gossip that would start would be devastating to the Clan at this juncture."

            "What made you think," Gryph asked with grave interest, "that I'd be willing to wait for my payment?" Sariana drew a breath. Her small, sweetly rounded breasts rose behind the green fabric of her gown.

Gryph found himself watching the movement instead of paying attention to what Sariana was saying. She had very nice breasts, he decided. Nice waist, too. A man could lie on his back, put his hands around that waist and lift Sariana up and over himself so that she straddled his thighs. Then he could ease her down onto his shaft until he filled her completely. Gryph decided he would like to see the expression in those hazel eyes if he did exactly that. His mind was so engrossed with the image he had created for himself that he caught only bits and pieces of what Sariana was saying.

            "Regarding your request for assurance that you will be paid," Sariana went on, "I want you to know that the Avylyns and I have considered the matter carefully. We understand that you, like the bank, need some form of collateral. Lady Avylyn suggested a rather unusual idea. She said you might be willing to postpone taking your pay if, in the meantime, she offered to introduce you socially. She seems to think you might have an eye toward marriage and that you would welcome the opportunity to meet socially acceptable young ladies. Marriage is always an important decision and if you are presently considering it, then you might be interested in Lady Avylyn's kind offer. If, however, that doesn't appeal, I have another suggestion."

            Out of the flow of words pouring so earnestly from Sariana's mouth, Gryph caught the one that mattered most. He nearly lost his balance. He gripped the edge of the stone table with far more force than was necessary.

            "Marriage," he repeated, his tongue thick in his mouth. He raised his eyes to Sariana's politely composed face. "To you?"

            "Oh, no, not to me," Sariana said with a light laugh. "I'm afraid you weren't listening. I said the Avylyns have agreed to introduce you socially to their friends and relatives. I understand that it is somewhat difficult for a Shield to meet suitable young women. Probably has something to do with spending too much of your time chasing bandits on the frontiers. Be that as it may, if you are agreeable to our offer, I see no reason why we can't conclude our deal this evening. You would start work in the morning. What do you say?"

"I say you have the fast tongue of a Rendezvous lawyer."

"It seems to me that the Avylyns are prepared to be quite generous," Sariana said. "Given the

limitations of your present social status, I should think you would be grateful for their offer. That is, if you are, indeed, in the market for a wife."

            Gryph experienced a sudden, nearly overwhelming desire to reach across the table, drag Sariana out of her chair and carry her out of the chamber. He knew what he would do with her as soon as he had her alone in his own bed chamber, he told himself. He knew exactly what he would do with her.

            "Listen, lady Business Manager," he said grimly. "I don't know where or how you did your social research, but I can guarantee that the last thing I'd sell my services for is a little help in finding a wife. I've been desperate, but never that desperate. I'm a Shield, damn it. I'll do my own wife hunting."

            There was a collective gasp of anguish from the assembled Avylyns, but Gryph ignored them. His attention was on Sariana. She did not gasp or cry out in horror. She merely blinked, her long lashes momentarily veiling the speculative intelligence in her eyes.

            Without a word she moved the weapon kit a little farther out of his reach. Gryph abruptly decided he'd had enough of her little games. He gathered himself for a quick, determined swipe at the kit.

            Just as his hand came out, however, Sariana released the kit and it sank instantly out of sight. Gryph watched in shock as his precious weapon kit vanished into a concealed opening in the stone. The opening was already sealing shut. There was not even a line to mark where the trap door existed. Westerners loved such gadgets.

            Impatience, irritation and the indulgent curiosity that Gryph had been experiencing up to that point disappeared in an instant. Fury engulfed him. The hand Gryph had been extending to grasp his kit locked around Sariana's small wrist instead. He yanked her forward until her upper body was sprawled across the table. Her eyes widened and he realized he was finally seeing genuine alarm in her gaze. It was about time, he decided.

            "Get it back." Each word he spoke fell like a stone into the appalled silence that had seized the chamber. "Now."

            "Please," she whispered, "just listen to me. That's all I'm asking. Let me tell you the whole story of the prisma cutter. We need your help."

            "Get back my kit or I'll find a way to make you vanish just as easily as you made it disappear. Understood?"

"You've made yourself quite clear," she replied in a shaky voice.

            She was finally scared, but her eyes still met his with steady determination. In spite of his raw mood, Gryph felt a reluctant surge of admiration for Sariana's daring. He knew of no other woman in Serendipity or the outlying provinces who would have taken such a risk.

            "Give it to him, Sariana," Jasso hissed. "Quickly."

"Hurry, before he kills us all," Lady Avylyn pleaded.

            Bryer and Mara sat staring at Sariana, panic in their expressions. "What will it cost us to get your help?" Sariana whispered, her eyes huge. Gryph was amazed. "You're still trying to negotiate a deal, lady?"

            "We need your help," she repeated doggedly. "If you won't accept the offer of being introduced socially while you wait for your payment, what kind of a deal will you accept? Name your price."

            Gryph looked down at her. "Tell me who needs my help."

"I've just told you. The Avylyn Clan."

            He shook his head, knowing suddenly what he wanted from her. "No. Not the Avylyns. They would be long gone by now if it wasn't for you. Tell me who really needs my services. Tell me who will pay whatever she has to pay in order to get them."

            Sariana stared at him, confused. Gryph waited, willing her to understand what he wanted from her. Then he saw the knowledge dawn in her large eyes.

"I need your help," Sariana said quietly. "Say it again."

            She set her teeth. "I need your help." Gryph nodded, satisfied. "That's right. You. Not the Avylyns." He released her. Sariana sat back in her seat, massaging her wrist unobtrusively. She regarded him with wary, smoldering eyes.