Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) - N.J. Walters Page 0,42

was an awful good one. He hadn’t so much as twitched since he put his head down.

Had something gone wrong? Had Loralie slipped something into his ale?

And why should she care? He’d been so cold, so reserved earlier. Nothing at all like the man who’d taken her to bed and given her the most sensual experience of her life. She was on her own with Maggs and Sera depending on her. She had no guarantees of help, only the promise of retribution from all sides.

Why were the innocent the first trampled in the wars of men?

All she wanted was to create a home for herself and the girls, work at her job, and live a quiet life. Not too much to ask in the scheme of things, but she might as well ask for a star.

The other servers had left, but Loralie lingered. That in itself was telling, as the woman usually lit out of there as soon as she was finished her shift.

“You can head out now,” Etta told her. “I’ll finish closing things down.” There were still four patrons here, including the Barskan, but they were all finishing off their drinks.

“You sure? I don’t mind hanging around, honey.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot and studied her fingernails.

Anger and disappointment congealed inside her. “Go home. You won’t learn any more to tell Helldrick tonight.”

Her head shot up, her lips pursed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t make it worse by lying.” Gods, she was tired of all the games and intrigue. “I know he’s paying you to watch me.” She tilted her head toward Kyler. “And him. Go home now.” In spite of not being able to trust Loralie, she didn’t want her hurt. “It’s not safe here.”

The waitress glanced toward the Barskan, who was glaring at them, and paled. “I’m out of here.” She grabbed her purse from behind the bar and left without a backward glance. What had Etta expected? That Loralie might show some concern for her well-being?

She ran a cleaning rag over the counter and began emptying the dish-cleaning unit, refilling the shelves for tomorrow. When she could put it off no longer, she walked to the door. “We’re closed. Time for you to leave.”

Nobody moved.

It was her first sign that something wasn’t right. Her skin prickled when one of the men sneered at her. This was so not good.

As nonchalantly as she could, she strolled back behind the bar and grabbed the blaster, wishing it was a newer model. She raised it, pointing it at the man closest to the door. Like the other three, he was big and looked mean. “Like I said, we’re closed.”

“Not to us.” The man farthest away from her pulled his weapon and stood. “What are you gonna do now?”

Shit, with them so far apart, there wasn’t much she could do. “There’s no reason for anyone to get hurt. Just leave and there won’t be any repercussions.” If they were here to rob the place, they sure as hell picked the wrong night.

The man with the weapon looked toward the Barskan for direction.

“You work for Balthazar. That son of a bitch.”

The Barskan stood to his full height, his reddish skin and scowl a fearful sight. “Stay,” he ordered.

She bristled but kept her mouth shut. Arguing wouldn’t help. Neither would antagonizing him. Her sisters were upstairs. But Kyler was here, making it four against one.

Her fingers tightened on the weapon and she swung it slightly toward the man closest to her. If she had to make a run for it, he was the one most likely to catch her. She had to force herself to stop clenching the weapon so hard.

The Barskan strolled over to the table and poked Kyler’s shoulder hard. It moved him, but he didn’t stir. Her brother’s man grunted at her. “Good job.”

He was pretending to be passed out, right? Gods, she hoped so. There was no way she could take down all of these men. If the worst happened, she’d let them take Kyler and find a way to contact the Gravasian king and let him know what happened.

That was if she was still alive.

Her heart pounded, drowning out almost all other sounds. The scene before her unfolded in slow-motion, everyone’s actions exaggerated. All her senses were heightened. The smell of ale permeated the air. A bead of sweat rolled down one man’s temple.

The Barskan bent to pick up Kyler. Her finger tightened slightly on the trigger of her blaster.

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