Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) - N.J. Walters Page 0,58
You can’t ignore the king.” Arms crossed over his chest, he ignored her.
“Audience granted,” the computer replied.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Negative.”
He took her hand. “We have fifteen planetary hours and fifty-eight minutes. The girls will be busy for the next hour or so.”
Her sex pulsed at the sensual promise in his eyes. “Whatever shall we do?” She’d tried to be playful, but it ended up sounding desperate.
He swept her into his arms. “Whatever we have to. Computer, full security.”
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her head on his shoulder and tried to ignore the knot in her stomach.
****
Kyler was dressed in full battle gear as the ship docked on Gravas. It wasn’t the main docking station, but a private one, used only by the royal family … and the king’s blade. Beside him, Etta was silent, her fingers curled into small fists. He wanted to take her hand, but refrained. It was difficult enough to keep the composure he needed.
He’d made love to her a half dozen times in the past day. Her scent, her taste, the silken texture of her hair, the warmth of her smile—all were imprinted on him.
It wasn’t enough.
And then there were the girls. Children were far outside his scope of experience, but even he understood how special these two were. Brilliant and older than their years, they’d survived a life that might have broken many strong men. But they were still children who could laugh and enjoy the small pleasures in life.
Their resilience awed him. Their optimism eluded him.
“We’re finally here,” Etta told Maggs, who was standing on the tips of her toes, trying to get a better look out of the viewing screen.
“It’s so big.” The worry in Sera’s voice made him want to lay waste to the world.
The closer they got to the end of their journey, the more he’d pulled away. Etta cast him worried glances. He’d seen the hurt reflected in her eyes, but she hadn’t admonished him in any way.
His heart ached at the way she drew a cloak of dignity and quiet acceptance around herself.
“It’s time.” He lifted the hood of his cloak over his face, shielding it from all eyes. From head to toe, he was the king’s blade—ruthless, dangerous, and loyal.
Etta grasped the girls by the hand and nodded. Their belongings were packed but would remain onboard the ship for the time being. Her face was pale but composed, making the blue of her eyes all the more vivid. Her bottom lip was redder than the top one. She’d been biting it again. Her golden curls had been tamed and tied back at her nape.
There was still time. He could blast out of here. The muscles in his legs and arms contracted. The words lay on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed them back. They’d be running for the rest of their short lives. There was nowhere to hide in the universe.
He wasn’t afraid for himself. Death was a part of life he’d long ago accepted. At several points, he would have welcomed it.
Now? He’d battle to death and beyond if it would save the three standing nervously behind him. Delaying the inevitable wasn’t a kindness.
“Follow me. Stay behind me. Don’t speak unless the king addresses you.” He went to Etta and tugged the hood of the cloak he’d given her over her head. Then he did the same with the girls. The trust in their faces made him want to roar to the gods.
But it wasn’t the gods who held their fate in their hands. It was the king.
Turning on a heel, he stalked through the ship. With each step, a deadly calm settled over him. Loyalty and justice were the cornerstones of his existence. They would not fail him now.
The ramp lowered and he walked down, his ears tuned to every sound. Without seeming to, he took in the area. The docking station had been cleared of regular personnel, only it wasn’t empty. He sensed at least four assassins stationed in the shadows.
His lack of communication with the king had them all suspicious.
Ignoring them, he made the short trek across the metal floor, conscious of the small, silent group behind him. When he reached the door, he leaned forward and allowed the retinal scanner to confirm his identity. The door slid soundlessly open.
He’d only been here once before, but he remembered the way. The corridors were empty as they traversed them, but they were being watched and assessed.