Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) - N.J. Walters Page 0,35

was the latter.

“Then you’ll have to find some way to get it into his ale.” He tapped his finger against his lips. “Use your feminine wiles, what few you have, if necessary. Just make sure he drinks this. Once the bar shuts down for the night, my men will collect him, just like last time. Until then, one of them will stay upstairs with the girls.”

She could feel all the blood draining from her face. “Not one of those Barskans?” The two men had worked for her brother for years. They were huge brutes with reddish tinged skin. They were loyal to a fault and wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever Balthazar asked of them.

Etta skirted the room, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“To check on the girls.”

He shook his finger in front of her. “No, you don’t. You stay right here. If your friend shows, you get that drug into his drink somehow. If he doesn’t show, then we’ll do this again tomorrow and the day after until he does show. If you don’t…” He trailed off, leaving her to fill in the ending.

“You’re a complete bastard. You know that?” She’d never been a violent person. Yes, she’d learned to protect herself, but that was different. Right now, if she could end him and still find a way to save the girls, she’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I take that as a compliment.” His expression tightened, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “The Gravasians took something from me, but I’m a survivor. I’ll find a way to come out on top. I always do.”

She didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself.

He shook himself and pointed to the vial. “Don’t disappoint me. Remember”—he tilted his head back—“the girls are depending on you.”

“Where’s Helldrick?”

Balthazar grinned once again, his emotions quicksilver. “He’s around. Never you fear.”

Alone in the kitchen, Etta buried her face in her hands and sucked in a deep breath. “What am I going to do?”

Chapter Nine

What will she do?

Kyler leaned back in his newly-repaired chair on the control deck of his ship and listened to the entire conversation. The listening device he’d placed in the kitchen had done its job well. Leaving the computer to continue recording, he replayed the conversation again and again, considering and absorbing every nuance.

Sometimes the tiniest details made a huge difference.

It was curious that Helldrick was the one to point out the Gravasian weapons to his son. How had he known they were Gravasian? Or had he simply noticed they were different and decided they were worth taking? Either way, there would have been risks involved, but Helldrick had passed it off to his son. What kind of father did that?

Of course, some would question his own father for allowing his son to become an assassin. But his life was about honor and sacrifice and serving a higher good. Something the morally bankrupt Helldrick and Balthazar could never understand.

And he’d threatened Etta and the girls.

Kyler looked down at the blades in his hands. He had no memory of drawing them. They danced across his fingers, beautiful instruments of death.

He’d only met Maggs and Sera once but was already protective of them. They were innocent and sweet—two things sorely missing from his life.

Then there was Etta. He understood her motives better now. The world had always existed in shades of black and white. He’d never questioned his principles or ideals … until Etta.

She was caught in a deadly struggle between greed and power on one side and honor and Gravasian justice on the other. But what was justice?

She was guilty of drugging the king’s son. Freely admitted it. But her motives had been pure. The king would have done anything to protect his son, and he was a grown man. Etta was protecting children. She’d had no one else to turn to for help.

He spun around in his chair and flung both blades. They shot straight and true, slamming into separate targets that were set up around the command center. The handles vibrated before finally settling.

What will she do? The question echoed in his mind. She wasn’t alone this time. But did she know that? Given the way he’d left things, it was more likely she considered him an enemy.

Leaning forward in his chair, he manually switched to the feed of the devices he’d planted in the apartment. Specifically, the tiny camera he’d risked in the main living area. As promised, a very