Urden, God of Desire (10 page)

“Would you like another?” He reached for it, ignoring her question. She nodded, giving him leave to refill her drink. “I used to down two bottles of this every day after my wife died.
Ended up sleeping all the time.
I can’t remember much of that first year.” He poured. She remained silent as if his small revelation meant nothing. He swore he felt her gaze on his backside. He set the refreshed drink before her, standing over her while she sipped.
She’s slowing down. Fury does that once you have one.

She studied him over the rim of her goblet, swallowed, and set it aside. “Do you agree?”

“No.”

Her chair scraped the floor. Standing, she faced him.

He breathed in. She smelled good, spicy, a mix of her perfume and the Fury luring him. He resisted. “I thought you’d be taller.”

“What?” She glared.

“In the coms.
You seemed taller.” A tendril of hair hung across her left eye. He wanted to brush it aside, to lower his mouth and taste her, unbraid her hair and comb his fingers through its shiny length. His attention shot to the table. An image of her lying there stripped of her simple black dress seized his mind. He raked his fingers through his hair, mussing it.

“I must warn you to reconsider, Shiemer Alon—”

“Call me Enrue. You did on the coms.” Here she was only a step away and he hadn’t given in to his desire. Pride burned in his chest—pride he wanted to squelch.

“Enrue.”
Her demeanor hadn’t softened. “Why don’t you agree?”

He stepped aside, grasped her sharer and scanned the verbiage above the Emperor’s seal. “I refuse to give up my rights and the rights of the people under my protection.”

“Protection?”
She tsked at him. “You’re a tyrant like all those before you. Don’t be a pain. You’re so far out in the rim that no one will miss you if—”

“There you go threatening me.” He took a step backward, walked around the table and paused by the bar. “I have terms for you, little Cossia.” He turned his back on her. “Join me, swear loyalty to me, or spend the night in a cell. Sound fair?”

“I am a ward of the Empire.”

He gripped the edge of the bar.
Ward? What does she mean?
Her shoes tapped against the tile floor as she approached, stopping behind him. He felt her. The air around him filled with her heavenly scent. Fingers traced the middle of his back, tentative, searching.

His cock hardened in anticipation of more. He wanted so much more. “Ward?” He didn’t dare move. Her touch lingered on his back before drifting down past his buttocks, reaching across his thigh. He hoped she would explore further.

“Yes. I belong to the Empire. I have no right to swear loyalty to you. No rights at all.” Two fingers slipped beneath his sash into the waistband of his pants. She shuffled closer, her breasts grazing his back now, her breath soft against his neck. “Not that I want to.”

To face her or not?
To give in or step away?
He could not decide. She was warm, her nipples hard, poking into his back through his shirt. Her small fingers tested his skin. He wished she would shove her hand down his pants and fulfill his fantasy. Enrue reached down, closed his fingers around her wrist and paused. Maybe she needed a hint. Maybe he ought to push her hand down and make his desires obvious. He held his breath, torn. Finally, he drew her hand away.

She groaned and twisted her arm, trying to escape his grip. He squeezed harder, refusing to release her.

“You will.” He dragged her across the room to the wall, fought for a hold on her other hand and pressed both above her head, crushing them against the wall.

She didn’t scream or attempt to fight for her freedom. A glint showed in her eyes, and he wondered if she felt what he did, if she wanted him to do more. Her chest tickled his when she took in each steady breath. He realized she did not fear him, not at all. In fact, she seemed amused by his aggression.

“What do you want from me, Enrue?” Her lashes lowered over her mesmerizing eyes. Her lips remained slightly parted, ready to accept his should he dare to sample.

He leaned closer, his cheek grazing hers as he whispered in her ear, “I want your loyalty.”

She snickered lasciviously. “Is that
all
?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve told you it’s not mine to give.” She ran her cheek along his, moaned softly, and pushed a knee between his legs. “You’re a strange man.
So cold and unyielding.
Does it tempt you to be close to me?”

He stepped away, letting her go and regretting it. “What do you know about General Wyther?”

Melia slinked away from the wall, returning to her seat and her drink. She sipped. Her thumb circled the side of the glass. He wanted it to touch him in that same way, to draw over every tingling inch of his body.

She smirked. “Jeremy told me a great deal about you and your plans. I know of your alliance.”

“When was the last time you saw him?” He shivered, wondering just who and what she was now. Jeremy would not have betrayed him. Not over threats from the Empire and not for…sex? Jealousy burned him. He clenched his teeth together and waited.

“It has been several days.”

“You know he’s dead.” He retrieved the bottle and topped off her goblet. Staring at her face, he tried to read her when he asked, “Did you kill him?”

She said nothing. A chill ran down his spine.

The com tone sounded, and Enrue growled at the interruption. “What!”

“My Shiemir,” his secretary stated. “I have disturbing news.” She cleared her throat, and he knew the distressed sound in her voice. “Jorin wishes to speak to you.”

“Tell him I’ll return his com after my meeting.”

“He’s not on the com, my Shiemir. He’s here…with me.” Something bumped and tapped in the background. “And he has some vids you should look at…now.”

Enrue reached out to Melia. She placed her fingers in his hand. Heat ran through his body, passion, fire and an eerie feeling of déjà vu. “Will you excuse me?”

She
nodded,
her expression contrite.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Nema.” The com clicked off. Enrue stood there with Melia’s hand in his, his thumb brushing back and forth across her knuckles. He didn’t want to leave her, to break this strange, euphoric moment. For the first time in his life, he felt connected to another person—not like he had with his wife. Theirs was an arrangement of sorts. This was different and not realized enough to be anything more than a trivial pulse, a beginning, a change.

“Hurry back, Enrue,” she
said,
her voice husky. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Try not to drink too much. It’ll make you say things you might regret.” Reticent, he pulled his hand away.

She smiled. “Maybe I want to say something like that.”

He backed to the door. It slid open. He stood there a long while memorizing her face, her shape, her scent.
When I return, I’m taking her to my bed. The game ends now. I will have her.

Chapter Thirteen

A New Leader

Sima stared out the window of the cottage she and Razi called home, seeing but not seeing the gravel road. Her fingers thrummed on the sill. She chewed her lower lip, as was her way when she was nervous. Behind her, Lensi stirred a cup of tea, the scent of it minty and strong. The Habiri Sister had come with a proposition, and Sima didn’t want to agree to it without speaking to her husband.

“He’ll be angry I asked you at all.” Lensi cleared her throat.

“I know. He probably told you not to ask, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

Sima twisted a lock of her hair, staring at the road, willing Razi to come home—now. No familiar shape of a man sauntered along. There was only the amaranth waving at her in the cool breeze. She gave up and turned to face Lensi. “What about Leuj? Is he involved?”

“Yes.” Lensi sipped at her tea, her green eyes misty. She set the mug down. “Very. He still has connections. They don’t know it’s him, but he knows all the right words. He knows the black market trade routes, and we use them to smuggle things…people, supplies, weapons…whatever will help the cause.” She shifted her weight. The chair creaked in protest.

“And what about my father?”

The woman shrugged. “What about him?” She dropped another spoonful of sugar in her tea, stirring,
the
spoon tick-tick-ticking. “You can’t say his motivations aren’t noble.”

“Do you know for sure?” Sima sat down beside Razi’s friend, old fears emerging. She didn’t want to go back, but the more she thought about helping those tribes in the mountains, the more she remembered the little girl who hid her from the police, and the more guilt ate at her heart. She had the power to do something, to get people out, to teach them how to stand up for themselves. All the Unangi lacked was an organized government to face the factions ruling the planet. “Well, do you?”

Lensi knocked on the tabletop, her eyes grim. “Is anything ever really for sure?”

“No. I guess not.” She cast her gaze down to the floor.

“Razi means well,” Lensi said. “I know he does. But he’s always been different. He never wanted out of Hicklan. He came to me after you paid for his freedom and really didn’t know what to do with
himself
.”

Rubbing her temple, Sima sighed. “You think I should have left him there?”

“No. No!
Of course not.
I’m just saying he errs on the side of caution. He’ll take the safe road if he can. You were the only person he ever stepped out of his boundaries for. Talk to him. Make him see what’s right. You’re the only person who can.”

“Yeah.
I’ll try.” She reached across for Lensi’s data sharer and read over the map, scanning it for flaws. “You’ve chosen a representative already?”

Lensi drank and closed her eyes.
“An old shaman.
Most of the tribespeople know him. I can’t say they trust him, but we haven’t much choice.” She reached for a frosted roll, bit into it and leaned back.

Sima knew there was more the sister wasn’t revealing just yet. Lensi bided her time in small ways, sharing only what her audience could handle at any given time. Together they nibbled at the rolls and waited. Razi was late.
Very late.

“What is it?” Sima asked. She placed her hand over Lensi’s. “Just tell me. You’ve chosen me for this for a reason.”

Lensi nodded. “Your father is in contact with the shaman, apparently to return two artifacts to the Unangi people. We’re certain it’s in exchange for access through the mountain passes. He needs Hemec to fund the war he’s planning on bringing about. There are other resources, but by taking Irnia, and in turn, taking the mountains, this will be the most cost effective route.”

“I don’t want to see my father again.” She wondered just how much Lensi knew, but was afraid to ask. The less she knew about her father’s contacts, the better.

“Just talk to the shaman. Meet with him. Explain the politics. The Unangi need someone from the inside.”

“You mean they need someone who knows how my father thinks.”

The door opened. Razi tossed his jacket across the couch and pursed his full lips when he saw Lensi. He shut the door, bypassed the women and leaned against the wall.

“Hi, hon.
How
was your day?” Sima rose to go and hug him. “I missed you.”

He glared over her shoulder, slipping his arms around her waist. “What did she tell you?”