Wicked Beloved (13 page)

Suddenly she released him and stepped off
several paces. Removal of her heat was like being jettisoned into
the cold vacuum of space. The only source of warmth and light in
the room stood somewhere behind him.

He strove to regain control of the little
gulps of air to which his normally calm process of inhale and
exhale had been reduced. Literally panting for her. Pitiful. Must
retire from the room, take his ease elsewhere, before his restraint
slipped and he shamed himself.

“
Excuse me.” He started
forward.

“
Wait.”

Dzer-Jin halted, clenching and unclenching
his fists.

“
Take me.”

“
Don’t say things you
don’t mean,” he warned, voice rough.

“
I mean it. Take me. Right
now.”

Three strides and he captured her in his
arms, bent her backward off her feet. He nipped along her jawline,
pressed hot kisses against her throat, then with predatory agility,
took her to the floor.

It was all too quick, he knew that. The mad
tearing at her clothes, wrestling free of his own just enough to be
able to perform the deed. He needed to give her more time. Yet she
returned his kisses with passion similar to his own, encouraging
him, sending a blaze through his veins that would not be
slowed.

Covering her face with kisses, he moaned her
name several times before his teeth gnashed with the effort of
holding back his release. But her touch, her body’s urging, was too
much for him. She shattered his self-control.

Words tumbled forth in the last moments
before his climax. Urgent phrases of bond-desire. To hear himself
speak so, employing feeble language used by degenerates, should
have killed his passion. Instead it sent flares scorching from his
heart.

He could only hope the way his heavy
breathing swamped the words would confound her collar’s translator.
He’d wanted to reassure her of his benignity, not confirm her
suspicions of his perverseness.

But he couldn’t stop the words any more than
he could stop his movements. She owned him. He must give her
everything he had, worshiping her with his body and mind.

“
I love you,” he whispered
right before he climaxed.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

“
What, is it Take Your
Slave to Work Day?” She propped herself up in their bed and
stretched languorously. That had been the best night’s sleep she’d
had in months—possibly years.

Naked and unabashed, Dzer-Jin strode in from
the kitchen, a mug of bala in each large hand, one of which she
happily accepted. “I am receiving an award. I thought to share the
experience with you.”

Quickly she swallowed the sip of hot liquid
she’d taken. “Oh, that’s fantastic! Congratulations. Of course I’d
love to go. I’ve never been to an Assassins’ Guild. Or any
Guild.”

He cocked his head to the side, considering
her thoughtfully.

“
What?”

“
We need to purchase
something formal for you to wear. A gown is customary. But I reckon
we can rig something trouser-like with wide legs to
simulate—”

“
No, that’s okay. I can
wear a gown to this. Nothing worse than being underdressed to a
formal occasion.” She certainly didn’t want to let him down in
front of his Guild.

They spent the rest of the morning shopping.
Fabrics wondrous to behold slipped along her skin and swirled
around her ankles as she tried on various dress styles. One gown
she particularly liked reminded her of a Jane Austen movie, with
its free-flowing white fabric, high waist, and short sleeves.
Though simpler in design than the multi-layered other outfits,
sparkly stones encrusted the waist and trimmed the neckline.

“
Are these real jewels?”
she asked, running her fingertips over the faceted
rocks.

“
Yes.”

“
Semi-precious?”

“
Fully precious.
Why?”

“
None of these gowns have
price tags. I don’t know—”

“
Do not concern yourself
with cost. You prefer this one?”

She nodded. Dzer-Jin purchased the
Regency-type gown and told the shopkeeper where to deliver it.

“
That didn’t look like a
slave’s outfit,” she commented on their walk back to his
flat.

“
It isn’t. You are
attending as my guest, not as my slave.”

A happy glow warmed her. She had hoped that
was the case. “How should I act? Will other slaves be there?”

“
Slaves will be in
attendance in a serving capacity.”

“
But not as
guests.”

“
Of course
not.”

“
Right. So me being a
guest… This isn’t going to cause trouble for you, is
it?”

He gave a slight, one-shouldered shrug. “It
is my award. I may break precedent if I see fit.”

“
I see.” She gnawed at her
bottom lip. Much as she longed to see him honored by his Guild, she
didn’t want to be a cause of shame. “Maybe you should bring someone
else.”

“
You don’t wish to
come?”

“
I don’t want your
reputation to be hurt.”

He shook his head. “My reputation is based
on killing, not whom I bring to parties. You must come. The
ceremony will be less enjoyable if you are not present.”

“
Then I’ll be there.” She
smiled.

Excitement made time crawl, but at last,
with the late afternoon sun shining down, they left for the
Assassins’ Guild. She found the ceremony to be interesting, as
serious as an arcane ritual, with a small stadium of people in
attendance. From the glittering attire, it looked like Dzer-Jin had
some very important supporters. Taller than everyone by at least a
few inches, Dzer-Jin stood at attention on the center stage dais,
black boots polished and gold buttons shining, to receive a shiny
obsidian medal, which the Guildmaster pinned to his grey tunic on a
scarlet ribbon.

A reception followed, with mingling and
chatting and food. She made sure to keep close to his side. As long
as everyone knew she was with him, no one would bother her. That
was certain. In fact, not only was she politely treated, many of
the females gave her envious glares.

The event was sort of like attending a
school reunion with the President or a famous entertainment star.
She was just getting to like the attention when she saw her
nemesis.

* * *

A short whine of fear slipped from Ahno’ee.
Dzer-Jin glanced down at her, and was even more concerned to see
her skin blanching. He followed her line of sight. She was looking
at Wrall.

He ran his gaze over the senator. Medium
height. Muscular. Professional clothes. Bland enough not to be an
easy sniper target, but that cloth was too fitted for ease in
hand-to-hand combat. Relying on show of muscles as deterrent, then.
Still best to avoid in close quarters, but otherwise not too
challenging a kill. No, the level of threat present was nothing to
inspire the horror he saw in her eyes.

“
Why do you
fear?”

“
That…that’s my original
master.”

He couldn’t have heard correctly. Senator
Wrall was known for his prowess at gentling slaves. He attracted
spectators whenever he used the public senatorial training halls to
whip a new purchase into shape. That he would admit defeat to a
Tellurian girl was unprecedented. Perhaps that was why she ended up
at the shelter, where previous owners had the benefit of anonymity,
and not an auction house.

“
He’s the one who failed
to break you?”

“
The one who hurt me.
Yes.” She shivered.

Almost of its own accord, his arm slipped
around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. “You’re mine
now. You are safe with me.”

Perhaps he felt their attention, for the
senator turned and noticed them for the first time. Or rather, he
noticed Ahno’ee. He blinked and for a second his mouth froze on
whatever word he’d meant to say next. Another beat and he resumed
talking, turning his back on them and subtly leading his circle of
listeners in the other direction.

Dzer-Jin frowned. That wasn’t a good sign.
He’d have stayed put if he didn’t care.

“
Can we go? Let’s go.
Leave. Now,” she chattered. “No, what am I saying? This is your
party. I’m sorry. We’ll stay. But over here.”

He shook his head. “I shall make my
apologies to the Guildmaster.”

“
Thank you,” she
breathed.

It was the work of mere moments to excuse
them, then he was escorting her to the door.

A blur moved in his peripheral vision.
Automatically he angled her behind him, using himself as a shield,
and turned to face an oncoming Senator Wrall.

“
My dear boy, I just heard
you were leaving. Vonn, isn’t it? Yes, I believe you’ve carried out
several contracts for my family. Congratulations on your big day.
And what is this lovely creature? Tellurian?”

* * *

Standing in the shelter of Dzer-Jin’s shadow
made her brave. “Like you don’t know,” she snarled quietly.
“Bastard.”

They both looked at her with surprise and
she remembered she was still a slave. “Sorry, master.” She knelt at
his side and fixed her eyes on the floor, her heart pounding with
the shock of seeing Wrall again.

His fingers stroked through her hair and she
felt comforted. He wasn’t angry about her mistake. She leaned into
his touch.

“
I’m impressed,” Wrall
said, and sounded so. “I thought her untrainable.”

“
Perhaps she but needed
the right trainer.” Dzer-Jin’s voice was especially
noncommittal.

Wrall laughed. “Perhaps. I should send you
all my leavings.”

She fidgeted, wanting to swear or throw
something at him or at the very least glare at him. Dzer-Jin must
have sensed her mood, for his fingers tightened momentarily in her
locks. A warning. She relaxed against him. It was important here to
be obedient. She could play that, for him.

“
You did do well, though,”
Wrall continued. “Let me buy her from you. I know the audience at
my private dungeon would welcome her return.”

She clutched Dzer-Jin’s leg for a moment
before tearing her hands away to form fists on her knees. Panic
swirled inside her. He wouldn’t sell her. She knew he wouldn’t. But
the mere suggestion of being back in that fiend’s hands was too
much.

His long fingers caressed her hair once
more. “My apologies, senator. Ahno’ee is not for sale.”

“
Such a delicate name.
That’s sweet of you, isn’t it? But you haven’t heard my offer. What
would you say to—”

“
Excuse us,” Dzer-Jin
interrupted, turning to leave. She jumped to her feet.

Wrall moved to block their way, shock and
anger warring in his expression. “I don’t think you understand. I’m
about to propose a substantial increase in your finances.”

“
She is not for sale at
any price.”

“
I don’t
understand.”

“
I believe I have made my
position clear. Good day.”

Wrall plucked at Dzer-Jin’s sleeve, halting
his departure, and growled, “You’d better re-think your
refusal.”

Dzer-Jin slowly looked down at the hand
gripping his sleeve, as if surprised hands did things like that.
“Any particular point to which you wish my attention drawn?”

“
Perhaps you ought to
consider my position.” The menace in his tone was unmistakable. “I
could make life very difficult for you.”

A long pause opened between them, during
which Dzer-Jin smiled quizzically, still gazing at the hand. Then
he glanced up, straight into Wrall’s eyes. “I work for the
Assassins’ Guild. Perhaps you ought to consider that.”

She watched the senator’s eyes widen ever so
slightly. His gaze flicked from Dzer-Jin’s shoulder insignia to his
new medal and his stance instantly became less aggressive.

“
Of course, Palatin, of
course. Your work ethic is a model to us all. And I can understand
your reluctance to sell. You’re a man of taste. I can see that. But
consider, as a senator, what I could do for you.” A toothy,
ingratiating grin slid into place. “More government contracts. Plus
the business of all my friends, earmarked just for you. That’s on
top of whatever price you ask for her. Yes, name a sum and no
matter how high it is, I’ll pay it.”

Wrall reached out to touch her hair but
before she could flinch away Dzer-Jin caught the senator’s fingers
in mid-air and twisted. She heard several little popping snaps. The
senator’s mouth fell open in a rictus of pain and surprise as he
sucked air into his lungs.

“
Scream and the wrist
goes, too,” Dzer-Jin warned quietly.

Wrall’s face turned red with the effort, but
he held back all sound except for a few breathy whimpers.

“We are leaving now. You will bother us no
longer.” Dzer-Jin released him and he stepped back, cradling his
hand against his chest. He avoided eye-contact with Dzer-Jin, his
bleary gaze instead seeking out hers.

“I’ll have you,” he hissed at her. “When he
trades you in, I’ll be there. Count on it.”

Dzer-Jin’s hand touched her elbow and she
glanced up at him as he steered her away, his countenance aloof,
not deigning to say anything more to the senator. She tried to
school her features into something similarly detached. It was
difficult, what with her lunch wanting to revisit her mouth. Nor
was she able to relax even once they reached home, not for several
hours.