Urden, God of Desire (25 page)

Fear curdled her voice. She watched, frozen in place as her captor slipped on a fresh shirt, tucked weapons on his person, and buttoned up the garment. “You stay by me, Sima,” he said as he wet a kitchen cloth and wiped the blood from his face. “I need to trade you now. This game ends today.”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

He left her and soon returned with socks and his odd, soft soled shoes.

“Just let me go. Please.” It slipped out and it wasn’t the first time. Those same words had caused him to strike her before. This time, he raised his head and frowned. “That’s up to the Shiemir.”

“He doesn’t care about me. He won’t give you what you want. Not for me. He’ll trade no one for me.” She knelt on the blood-red carpet and begged. “I’m nothing to him, not even a pawn anymore.”

Her captor slid a length of black fabric from the end of the couch where he sat, his face cold and unreadable. He swathed his head and mouth with the scarf, hiding his identity.
“Nonsense.”
He held out his hand to her, the same hand that had mutilated the dead woman in the other room, the same hand that had slapped her, bruising her eye that morning.

Cringing, she took it and let him guide her to the black table. He snatched up a silver data sharer, flicked it open and commed out. Tapping his foot, he waited.

She peered over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of her father in the recliner in his bedchamber, his shirt and hair a mess. He looked thinner and more troubled than usual. His face registered a nasty grimace of disappointment or disgust—she couldn’t be sure which one.

“Hello,
Enrue,
” her captor began, tilting his glasses down the bridge of his nose. “I have something that belongs to you.
Something pretty.”
He tugged her into view of the sharer’s eye. “You have the samples we sent? You had them tested?”

He nodded.

“Do you agree to the trade?” He shoved Sima sideways. She lost her balance and landed on her back, thankful for the old carpet’s padding.

Her father’s voice droned low and controlled. “I arranged the meeting place.”

“And where would the noble Shiemir of Taraf like to negotiate this agreement?”

“Forty-third and Masin.
Alone, you and I…and the children we hold.”

Her captor chuckled.
“A fine choice.
But you know as well as I do, I am not alone.”

Sima regained her footing and peered at the sharer, hoping to catch her father’s eye, to have his attention, if only for a second of time. Don’t do it, she mouthed, but he kept his eyes on the man he addressed. “No,” she blurted, but her captor ignored her as well.

“How soon?”
Daschia reached across the table, his dark finger hovering over
the disconnect
.

Her father hummed before he answered.
“An hour’s time.
Any chance you’ll bring Melia with you?”

The tone sounded and the com ended, her father’s question left unanswered. Steel fingers gripped Sima’s wrist. Hauled through the room to the door, they waited for it to slide on its runners and finally left.

“Daschia, wh—”

Sima faced the guard outside the door, a tall, muscular man with piercing eyes and large teeth. He jingled when he stepped forth, his long jacket hiding something metal beneath its folds.

“It’s time for the trade.” Daschia nodded his head once. “Bring the others. We’re meeting in the city in an hour. I want to be there early to set you all up in position. The Shiemir will try to trick us.” He jerked Sima into a walk.

Crossing the hotel’s long hall, Sima prayed someone would open a door and take notice of her, but no one did.

Chapter Thirty Five

Son-in-Law

The Shiemir stood on the other side of the one-way plasma window staring at the man who claimed to be his son-in-law. He hadn’t believed his daughter was still alive, or any of the evidence the Empire had sent to him, but this man raised doubts. He knew things the Empire could not know. Childhood stories, memories only Sima could have told him. He rubbed his temple, his jaw clenched with stress.

The sweet taste of Melia’s perfume and even the underlying feminine scent of her skin tickled his senses. He was not fooled by O’Ka’s pheromones though. She joined him, standing shoulder to shoulder as he decided what to do. Her sultry voice purred by his ear. “I think this is a trick.”

He shook his head.
“If so, it’s well done.”

“I do not trust this one.” She touched the window with one long, painted nail, frowning. “He is very good to look at, but I don’t think your daughter is alive. She would have contacted you.”

“No.
That I can be sure of.
She would never have contacted me for anything if she got away.” For the first time, it pained him to realize how much Sima must have hated him. “She tried to run away so many times.”

“Ungrateful child,” O’ka muttered. She reached over and knitted her fingers with his, her touch warm and appealing. Her scent changed ever so slightly to something more intense. “This is why I have no children.”

He squeezed her hand once and pulled away. “You have no children because you kill all your husbands.”

She snorted out a small laugh. “They bored me after a time. It is the way of the nylenth. I am an Empress. I need a man who can hold my attentions for longer than a few months.” She swept her hair from her shoulder, the shiny black, mass-like strands of silk showing blue in the light. “Perhaps you are up to the challenge?”

He could not deny she tempted him. The stress, the way she copied Melia’s scent. His gaze flickered over her breasts, cleverly ensconced in glittering red fabric. Imagining they would fit neatly into the palms of his hands, he licked his lower lip. “No.” He raised his eyes to hers. “No, I don’t think I could keep you entertained for more than a few hours, O’ka. I’m flattered you would suggest such a thing.”

Ruby lips spread over her smile, fangs sharp and dangerous, yet alluring. “How humble you are.” Her fingers rose to trace his ear, teasing the lobe before drawing away. “That is what I admire about you. It’s the quiet men who do not boast of their prowess who are most capable of pleasing a woman.”

His face flushed hot and he backed to the door.
“Enough of that now.”
He pressed the keys to open the door, ready to confront the man waiting for him. “Come with me. Here and at the meeting with that Kyleena bastard who has my daughter. I need someone I can trust at my side.”

“Of course.”
She edged along the wall, keeping pace.

He faced the Unangi man, who stood and offered his hand. Enrue took it, shook curtly and let go. “Thank you for coming here with your news. Razi, is it?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Sir, Sima and I…well, I have known her since she fled her bodyguards in Irnia these months past. She ran away—”

“I know my daughter and why she did what she did.”

“Yes.
Of course.”
He frowned, gathering his words. “She’s my wife, my Shiemir. We were married in Alga. Please, you must believe me. We have to get her back. I don’t know what else to do, who else to turn to.”

The Shiemir held up one hand. “I don’t know whether to believe you or place you in holding for more questioning. My
daughter,
if that’s who she really is, will be traded for another hostage in less than an hour’s time, if all goes as planned.”

“It’s a trap,” O’ka muttered from her position at Enrue’s side.

“I know what it is, O’ka.” Enrue looked Razi up and down. He sighed and shook his head. “Regardless. I must go. I must know the truth or the darkness of these lies.”

“They’ll kill you,” she shot back.

He shrugged. Addressing Razi, his countenance softened. “I suppose it is a pleasure to meet you, albeit the circumstances are bizarre. If indeed my daughter lives and you are her husband, I owe you my apologies.” He straightened his sash out of habit. “Come with me for this trade.”

“Yes, yes, of course I will. I’ll do anything you ask.” Razi stared from the Shiemir to O’ka and back. “I can shoot a weapon. I’ll kill those Kyleena bastards if I have to.”

O’ka grunted and offered her hand to him. “Perhaps you are not so useless.” Her eyes glittered with their usual darkness. “Tell me, Unangi, how many have you killed in your time? Are you a soldier in the rebel army?”

“No. I worked in a mill before we came here.” He looked down at the floor and went on. “Sima and I, we joined with the Habiri Church to help my people in the jungles.”

The Shiemir interrupted. “Your people are under my protection. I cannot trust you with a gun, but come with O’ka and
I
. If something happens, if things go wrong in the place we are to meet for this exchange, you must do everything in your power to get my daughter to safety.”

* * * *

The building looked just the same as it had when he’d left it, cold and empty. He still felt that way too. Enrue stepped out of the shuttle in the alley, O’Ka and Razi close behind. He held his hand up at them. “I need you to wait here. I promised to come alone. If I don’t, they might kill her on sight.”

O’Ka clicked her tongue in a way only a nylenth could and flashed her teeth. “I will avenge your death if they take you,” she vowed.
“A bloody assault to be hailed in the history vids for ages to come.
The Empire will know my wrath. All of Kyleena will fear my name.”

Enrue pursed his lips. Her aggressive nature made her well-suited as his second. He knew what she said she meant and would do all in her power to bring about.

Razi stepped forth, looking awkward. “Let me go with you. She’s my wife.”

“She was my daughter first. I’m certain I owe her more than you could possibly imagine.” He opened the rear of the shuttle and guided his hostage out. Blindfolded and gagged, the young girl was silent and submissive, following his lead. He turned his sights on the old door, already ajar. Instinct told him this was a trap. O’ka was right. He would die this day and his daughter too, if she wasn’t dead already.

He grasped the handle and opened the door wide. Bending to her level, he whispered into the girl’s ear. “You’re going home. Don’t be afraid.

Chapter Thirty Six

Exchange

The main room was ugly and empty save for the thin layer of dust on most of the floor. Footprints marred its surface, even the ones from the night he’d spent here with Melia. Enrue walked slow, wary that his next step might be his last. He figured a sniper awaited him in the ductwork or behind the high windows. He studied the wall he’d pressed Melia against that night and wished he’d done things differently, that he’d known the right words to say to her. Twinkles of white drifted through a ray of sunlight cast from a high window. He walked through it, hoping this would end soon.

“I’ve brought what you asked for. Show me my daughter!” he shouted, his gaze shifting from the door to the locker area he’d slept in, and to the broken windows higher up. There weren’t many places to hide. If they were here, they’d receded into the building to make things difficult. He waited for a time, counting to one hundred. No one answered.

“Melia!”
He hoped she would answer. At least if he heard her voice and knew she was there, he’d be at ease. He had chosen this meeting place on purpose, wishing she might show him mercy and realize how much he needed her.

“Shiemir.”
A man’s voice bellowed from an unseen intercom. “Bring the child to me. Go through the door, down the steps, and turn left. Your pretty daughter is waiting for you.”