Urden, God of Desire (21 page)

Out in the night, a hover jet fired up, humming in the streets. Melia froze. “I thought you said you were alone.”

Enrue snaked his arm around her waist. “Don’t you trust me?” He hugged her to him, his eyes weighing her faith in the darkness. “We can’t go much further unless we build on what we have. I’ve come here, alone. I’m following you into the darkness though you’ve been hired to kill me.” His hand rested on the small of her back, hot, soothing.

She shivered from the cool, stale air. Melia nodded.
“All right.
You can trust me this night, but not afterward, understand? After tomorrow, I go back. You’ll be someone else’s mark. And if you see me, stay away.”

“I think you can trust me after tonight.” He scooped her up in his arms and strode into the black room, unable to see, but carrying her nonetheless. He paused, shuffling his feet on the floor. “I found your blankets.” He lowered her and sat beside Melia, gathering her against him.

She held her words, savoring this moment, for it was fleeting. She ran her cheek against his, slow and soft.
Then down his chest and abdomen.
He curled his fingers into her hair, stroking the sides of her face with his thick thumbs. She drew her hands to his waist, untied his sash belt and tossed it away. Deft in her endeavor, she pried down his pants, his underpants, and nuzzled the patch of hair above his cock.

“What are you doing to me?” he muttered.

She traced his inner thigh with her tongue, drawing circles on his skin. His erection touched her face, bobbed once and she sat up. “Lie down. I want to taste you.”

He obeyed and she spread his legs and positioned herself between them, lowering her lips to his cock. She reached for his balls and held them in her palm. “You do trust me,” she whispered, a small laugh in her voice.

He only moaned.

“Have you dreamed of me doing this?” Without waiting for his answer, she slid his bulging head into her mouth, drawing her tongue in circles over its shape. He flinched. As she worked her mouth in timed pulls, he eased and moaned in pleasure. Cupping his balls, she began to roll them in her hand, tugging when she sucked him in further, releasing when she pulled back.

His whispers of passion urged her to go faster, to draw his length deeper. Melia pleasured him until his body tensed. She released his hardness, gripped it with two hands and clutched his length as he ejaculated. He gasped for air until the orgasm ended.

Enrue sat up, slipped his hands over her upper arms and dragged her across his body. She lay beside him, curled into his heat while he stroked his fingers through her hair. “Do you want me to do the same for you?” he asked.

She nuzzled her face into his chest. “No. Just hold me. Watch over me while I sleep. I’m so tired, tired of everything, my life, everything. Just keep me here close to you.”

“All right.”
He reached over and pulled a blanket across their naked bodies. “But you come home with me in the morning.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement, a simple demand she knew he expected her to follow.

She closed her eyes, the shakes from the caffeine finally wearing down. Melia focused on breathing, on the darkness behind her closed eyelids, and the sturdy masculine body pressed to hers. She wished things could be different, but knew the route Enrue wanted her to take could not exist.

Chapter Twenty Nine

Hostage

Sima walked along the pews in the empty Habiri church, her fingers trailing over each seat as she passed. She stared at the ominous podium, flanked by two large, wooden carvings of a man and a woman, each reaching for the other. She felt a connection to this place, to the people who ran in, if only because of Sister Lensi. “To think my father spoke here not long ago.” She climbed the steps, the lingering scent of incense sweet in the temperature controlled air. A pain twisted in her heart and she wondered if he thought of her at all, if he mourned the loss of his only child.

Word had come that Razi and the band of rebels had infiltrated the first of three black market slavers. She worried about him. It wasn’t his nature to be the aggressor, to fight or stand up for someone other than himself. She took her place behind the podium and gazed out across the wide worship arena. A feeling of déjà vu swept over her and another sense, an eerie desire to be able to speak to the people unveiled, to be known again for who she was, to stand up and shout out that what the Empire was doing was wrong. She swallowed back her desires and cleared her throat.

At the far end of the massive room, a door opened, and the Unangi shaman came ambling along in his hesitant gait. His eyes were large and round as he took in the place, obviously overwhelmed by its sheer size.

Today, they were to meet with Sister Genaro, the leader of another sect of the Habiri Rebellion, and Sima felt unprepared. She waved at the older man and descended the steps to join him at the first pew. They sat, side by side, and stared at each other in silence until Lensi joined them.

“Sister Genaro is running late,” she called, her voice echoing. “And something’s wrong…”

“What is it?” Sima turned and shot Lensi a pointed look. “Is Razi all right?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine, but across the street at the packing plant, there’s a police cruiser.” She hurried along the center aisle to join them. “Only its markings aren’t quite right. It’s not an official Tarafian cruiser. Two emblems are missing.”

“What does that mean?” Sima stood. “Who is it then?”

Lensi cleared her throat and nodded at the shaman, urging him to stand. “Well, who else would spy on the Habiri Church? Your father has no reason to. We have no enemies…that know what we’re capable of. Unless…”

“Do you think it’s an envoy from Kyleena?”

Lensi nodded. She held out her hand to Sima. “Follow me. I have a place to hide you. And you as well, Achi.”

They trailed after the large woman. Up the stage and into the darkness, they crept though dark side
passages,
and Sima wondered how the Sister could find her way.

They came out in a basement, piled high with crates. It didn’t smell dusty or old, but clean and well-cared for. Sima squinted in the dim light, trying to make out just where she was. “Is this—
”

“A loading bay.
We only use it under cover of night. It’s not authorized, and no, those boxes aren’t holding anything you’d want to open and toy with.” She placed Sima’s hand over Achi’s and pointed to the back of the room. “Take him and hide there until I come for you.”

“Where are you going?” Sima asked.

“I have to find Leuj. I don’t want them to get their hands on him, either.” She spun and rushed away, leaving Sima and Achi in the bay.

“They wouldn’t want Leuj anyway,” Sima muttered. “You’re the only one who does.”

The former leader of Irnia would probably be welcomed back with open arms by the Kyleena Empire. He worked well with the Corps, and the black markets had thrived in his city before her father overthrew him.

“The winds changed when I came to this place. It is not the home of my gods.” Achi wrung his leathery hands
together,
his dark eyes on the opposite entry Lensi had vanished through. “The jungle calls to me…the trees.”

Sima patted his shoulder. “We’re safe here,” she told him, hoping he’d believe her. “Don’t worry.”

Time passed slowly. Sounds boomed in the higher levels of the church. Sima shuddered and huddled beside the shaman in the corner of the bay. Achi hummed under his breath, his voice a soft drone much like a swarm of insects. When footsteps thundered down the steps and into the bay, Sima knew things had indeed gone wrong. She took Achi’s hand, squeezed it and waited.

“We know you’re down here, Moquai.” The voice calling her title made her shiver, a deep, male sound, itching into her conscience.

“Shit,” she whispered.

Achi shook his head, lowering his piercing gaze to the floor. He continued his hum, but his shoulders slumped and he released her hand.

Bending toward him, she whispered in his ear. “It’s me they want. Stay here, stay quiet. Maybe no one will notice you.”

Achi nodded.

She stepped around the crates, holding her head high, squaring her shoulders. Sima entered the bright light of a hand-held search beacon and squinted.

Someone clucked his tongue. “So, it
is
true. Ah, my chameleon never lets me down.” The man crossed through the beam of light, his face half-hidden beneath a black swathe of fabric. His ebony skin and locks of dark hair suggested Unangi lineage, but Sima sensed something else about him, something she couldn’t quite place. “Why are you hiding, Moquai? Why, when your father is in such a position of power?”

“I have nothing to do with my father,” she spat. “He sold me off to the Oemir of Irnia. When I fled the arrangement and he couldn’t get his precious treaty, he overthrew the government. I have nothing to do with it!”

Moving with a speed she could scarce measure, the man appeared at her side, his clawed fingers locking on her arm. With his free hand, he pulled down the veil from his mouth. His smile revealed four sharp teeth in an otherwise human mouth. “Wrong. You have everything to do with it now.” He tugged her against him and bent to speak against her cheek. “You see, your father has the Emperor’s daughter and now, the Empire has you.” His claws nipped her flesh. “I wonder which one will die first. Don’t you?”

“My father cares nothing for me. He cares for no one! Can’t you see that?” She tried to pull from his grip, but only succeeded in causing his claws to sink deeper. “Let me go!”

“Ah. He doesn’t care about his only child. Tsk, tsk.” He dragged her along, past a set of guards with their faces hidden. “Then I guess
you
will be the first to meet the Holy Mother.”

A wide shape stood in the doorway, her hand gripping a stunner. “Release her,” Lensi ordered.

For a moment, claws lessened their pinching hold. Light flashed and Lensi, always so solid, so invincible, fell to the floor in a heap. Sima screamed in horror. The guards descended on her, taking her wrists, holding her in place until their leader sniffed over his shoulder.
“Crazed nun.”
He waved for his men to follow.

Chapter Thirty

Questioning

Melia lay awake staring at the rust on the worn ceiling above her. At her side, Enrue’s warm body pressed to hers, his arm languishing across her middle. His breathing calmed her, warm and ticklish by her ear. She wondered why he brought about such a change in her, awakening some semblance of humanity she’d thought long dead after her training under Daschia. Despite his cold countenance, she knew the Shiemir was a good man. What he wanted to do was unselfish and impossible.

She rose and sighed when his arm slid away. Four days had passed since last she spoke to her boss. He’d be angry if she didn’t show on time. She found her clothes in the back room in a crumpled pile. Throwing them on, she kept eyeing the door, half expecting someone to burst in and catch her. Though she knew there was no Tagian Tracker in her body, she’d always wondered if her boss had other ways of locating her.

Dressed and ready to abandon her hit, Melia turned back and stood in the doorway, staring down at Enrue. He slept on his side, his arm curled around a knot of blankets where she had been. She glanced away, staring at the door once more, at the next place she needed to get to. Daschia would be in the city by now. He’d be waiting for her at the net café on the edge of town in an hour. She clenched her hands into fists.
I should kill him and end this madness.
Crossing the distance of the room, she tried to put the thought of his eyes out of her mind. His neck would crack like any other man’s.

The Shiemir stirred, his face turning, his eyes opening and locking on her. He held out his arms and smiled. “Come back here.”

Melia halted and shook her head. “I have an appointment. I’ll be late if I stay longer.” She stole a glance over her shoulder, cursing herself for not leaving.