Page 9 of Guard

If she was being smart, she would admit to herself that she could not afford to keep Rixx. Even before he came, she’d struggled to make ends meet. Now, with his extra mouth to feed, she did not know how she was going to do it. But what was the alternative? She couldn’t turn him out onto the streets. She would not have done that under normal circumstances, but now that he was being hunted by the Zevrians, it would be a death sentence.

It wasn’t only guilt that kept her from turning out Rixx. It was Zala. For the first time in as long as she could remember, her daughter was smiling and laughing. She’d been so enraptured by the Dothvek’s stories of his childhood that she had barely noticed that the two of them had done all the washing up after dinner. Usually washing dishes was good for a grumble or two, but last night she had gladly stood by Rixx’s side and dried every bowl and pot that he washed.

Rixx had actually washed dishes. Even now, she couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head in disbelief. Zala’s father had never helped her with the household work when they’d been together. Even when he hadn’t been working and bringing in money, he’d expected her to do all the women’s work. But the massive Dothvek, who was easily a head taller than her husband, had not even waited to be asked. He had done the work as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Myrria had heard him mumble about goddesses when he’d been unconscious. Maybe on his world, females were more revered than on this one. Myrria’s cheeks warmed, as she thought about the sight of Rixx standing at her sink. She would not mind being revered, but at the moment, she was grateful for the help.

Then she gave herself a mental shake. Rixx was a Dothvek who did not belong on Kurril. He would be leaving as soon as his ship returned. She, however, was stuck in the Den of Thieves waiting for a husband she didn’t even know if she wanted to return anymore.

Pushing around a buzzing cluster of people, she headed for the stall that sold the flour she used to bake her black bread. As long as she could bake bread, she could keep them fed. There had been many days when she and Zala had survived on bread and tea alone, although she did not want to be forced to do that with Rixx.

A snatch of conversation made her slow her pace and she paused, pretending to eye a bin of fruit as she strained to hear what a group of women were saying.

“You saw those flyers?”

Myrria froze, realizing they were talking about the wanted posters about Rixx.

“Got one on my door. Don’t know why they think any of us would know about it.”

Another woman sucked on the end of a thin cigarette. “He’s got to be somewhere. They never found the body.”

“Mark my words, he burned up in that fire and they just can’t tell, ’cause all the bodies look like kindling.”

Myrria cringed at this thought, glad that she hadn’t seen the wreckage of the fire.

“Don’t matter. They’re sure he escaped. Even his own kind couldn’t find him and left.” The smoking woman took a longdrag and blew out the smoke. “Now they’re going house to house looking for him, which means we all got to deal with it.”

Myrria went rigid. The Zevrians were going house to house? Were they doing that now? She felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she thought about Rixx back in her house with no idea that the Zevrinas might burst in at any moment. Then she remembered that Zala had begged to stay with him. Her daughter was with Rixx, and they were both in danger.

She backed away from the fruit stall and the women gossiping and even forgot about buying bread flour. Her feet slapped the paving stones as she hurried from the market and toward her home, muscle memory guiding her as her brain whirled.

She attempted to take deep breaths, but it was no use. She was practically running and panting before she’d cleared the market with only a handful of thoughts zipping through her brain. She had to get home. She had to hide Rixx. She had to keep Zala safe.

Most of all, she had to get it through her head that this was not going to end the way she wished it would. This was no fairytale, and she was no princess, even if Rixx did do a good job of playing the hero.

“Stories in the Den of Thieves do not have happy endings,“ she reminded herself, as she turned down her alley and stopped short.

Chapter

Nine

Rixx eyed the small head in his hands, the bright-red hair flopping as he waved the limp body and tried to get the legs to move forward.

“Not like that!” Zala scowled at him and reached for the rag doll. “You’re making her look like she’s having a fit.”

Rixx did not know what a fit was, but he guessed it wasn’t good. “Apologies. I have never played with a doll before.”

Zala blinked at him as she smoothed the yarn hair that he had mussed. “You don’t have dolls on the sand planet?”

“There are very few Dothvek females and the ones we have do not play with dolls. They learn to survive with us on the sands or become a priestess.”

The little girl wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

They were sitting cross legged at the base of the bed that Myrria insisted he take since his strength was still low and climbing the ladder to the loft upstairs might open the wound on his side. He did not like the fact that his presence was relegating the womanand her daughter upstairs to a shared bed, but he also knew that he needed to regain his strength as quickly as possible. The faster he was back in fighting form, the safer they would all be.

“I have never thought about things being fun,” he told the girl. “There are many things you do to survive, especially on a planet like mine.”

Zala’s lips turned down as she ran her fingers through the doll’s hair. “And here. Mama always worries about us surviving on Kurril, especially since it’s just the two of us.”

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