Page 28 of Guard

Zala returned his smile, but Myrria could tell it was forced.

Tobert stretched his arms overhead and then thumped his stomach. “Why don’t my two girls fix me some breakfast while I wash off all the grime from the ship?”

Myrria opened her mouth to tell him that she was no longer at his beck and call, but Zala nodded. “I think we still have some sweet bread.”

Tobert shot Myrria a smug smile. “That’s my girl.”

Myrria bit her tongue as he walked toward the bathroom, but she knew his confidence was misplaced. She was sure he had not won over Zala that easily.

Her belief was proven when the water flicked on and her daughter walked to her, pulling her down and cupping her hand around Myrria’s ear like she always had when she wanted to tell her a secret. “He’s gone. He went out the hatch. I gave him directions to someplace safe.”

Myrria could imagine very few safe places in Kurril. “Where?”

Zala gave her mother an innocent smile. “Serena’s place.”

Myrria swallowed a groan. Zala had sent Rixx to take refuge in a pleasure house.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

Rixx crouched on the flat roof of the building, cutting a quick glance at the closed hatch. He had not wanted to leave Myrria, but Zala had practically pushed him up and out the square door cut into the roof. His mind reeled with the shock that Myrria’s husband, who she had assured him was long-gone—had returned. He had almost let himself believe that Myrria washiswife, but now reality had cruelly intruded and reminded him that Kurril was not his home, Myrria was not his, and the planet was not safe.

He scanned the tops of the other low buildings and the taller rooftops, grateful that no one else was on them. At least, he would not be spotted ambling across the tops of the city’s houses as he searched for the one that Zala had promised would be a safe haven for him.

Two streets over with a red roof and yellow awnings. That should not be hard to find.

Zala had whispered to him that he should ask for Madam Serena and tell her that Myrria and Zala sent him.

“Be sure to say my name too,” the little girl had whispered as the two voices downstairs had grown louder.

Rixx had nodded solemnly, but he’d lingered as he listened to Myrria’s voice rise. He did not like the sound of this man, even if it was him who belonged in the family and not Rixx.

Zala had given him a push, and he’d hoisted himself through the hatch as the sound of clattering dishes reached him. Then the door was closed, and he was alone on the roof.

Rixx peered up at the sun rising higher in the sky, breathed in the air that was already heavy with heat, and forced himself to move. His footsteps were silent—something he’d learned from hunting on the sands—and he crept quickly from one roof to the other. He stayed close to the edge so he could peer down and mentally chart his progress.

At the corner of the street, he eyed the gap between buildings before taking a small running start on his toes and leaping across. He landed in a crouch and stayed immobile for a few beats, hoping that no one below had heard him. If they had, they didn’t care. There were no shouts, no tempos on the ceiling, no one hanging from the windows and yelling up.

He continued crossing rooftops, sometimes leaping up higher and sometimes dropping low, until he came to another corner. There was the building with the red roof and yellow awnings, just as Zala had described.

Rixx hesitated. Unlike the other buildings that were weathered and unkept with dirty shutters and litter on their roofs, this building glittered like a jewel. The fabric awnings were clean and edged with tassels, the paint on the outside wasn’t faded and stained, and the roof was spotless. Not only that, but musicdrifted out from an open window along with a heady scent that was both sensual and welcoming.

His stomach clenched as he realized that he’d smelled that scent on Myrria when she’d returned from her errands the day before. She’d been in that building, which meant that Zala had sent him to a pleasure house.

When he’d first arrived on Kurril, the only thing he’d wanted to see was one of the famous pleasure houses. Then he’d been taken captive by the Zevrians and all thoughts of females who were free with their favors had been banished from his mind. But now he had been sent to one. But not as a patron, as a wanted criminal.

He took a deep breath as he eyed the rungs bolted into the side of the building and hoped that Zala was right about her mother’s name being enough to get him inside and well hidden.

“There is only one way to find out.”

The Dothvek quickly climbed down from the roof and dropped to the ground, swiveling his gaze to both sides. It wasn’t early morning, but Kurril was not the kind of place to rouse early. And he was sure that the pleasure house would not be the type of establishment to open before dusk.

He tapped the shiny red door, trying not to knock too loudly and draw attention to himself. A curtain in a side window fluttered, and the door opened a crack.

“The girls are sleeping.” The voice was soft and dreamy, not what he would have expected from someone manning the door. He’d thought the house would be guarded by some burly males, if not on the outside then certainly on the inside.

He focused on the wide, blue eye in the crack of the door. “I’m not here for the girls. I’m here for Serena.” When the eye narrowed, he added, “Myrria sent me—and Zala.”

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