and a hint of cruelty.
Garik stilled. He’d faced corrupt and evil men across more worlds than he could count but Maurin was on another level. Garik ran several scenarios through his head and all of them ended up with him dead. Since he rather liked living, he controlled his instinct to fight back as one of Maurin’s men approached with a second set of restraints.
“Bring him to the dungeons,” Maurin ordered.
One of the guards surrounding them bound Garik’s ankles, immobilizing his ability to take large steps as another grabbed his elbow and jerked him forward.
The corners of Maurin’s eyes crinkled. Although he didn’t smile, there was an air of satisfaction about him. “Now, we will see how well one of the Guild does under torture.”
It was what Garik expected once he realized the trap that had been sprung. None of them spared a glance for Dedrin’s slain body as they left the back room of the bar Maurin frequented. It was where Garik had plotted to poison him. Clearly, Dedrin’s purpose in Maurin’s mind had already been filled.
Behind him, looters were already gathering around his slain peer to pick his pockets dry. The body would be disposed of at some point. Garik couldn’t find it in him to care. He risked one last glance around the rudimentary establishment. Worn clothing, rough mannerisms, eyes glittering with greed. A haven for those like-minded with an interest in dark activities without remorse or consequence.
There would be no one here coming to his aid. So Garik would have to wait. He was accustomed to waiting. Maurin didn’t know as much as he thought about the members of the Guild if he thought Garik would go down easily.
Outside, the air was heavy and thick with the arid feel of a weather change. It was common for severe dust storms to rise without warning on Quantoon. Though brief in time period, the deadly weather phenom had been known to destroy everything in its path.
The guard on the right smashed a meaty palm on top of Garik’s head and forced him in the backseat of the armored vehicle parked in front of the bar beneath a bright spotlight. He could have resisted and overpowered him but the odds were against him if he chose to fight back now.
The crowd lingering outside the establishment looked in their direction then quickly turned away when they noticed Maurin. Garik spread his legs wide and made himself comfortable on the cushioned synth leather seat. The interior was filled with buttons and gadgets, the expense obvious. A brawny weight settled on the right side of him as the door was slammed shut. The other burly guard sat on the bench seat across from Garik and growled low as he kicked one of Garik’s booted feet to the side to make room for his own.
Instead of reacting, Garik folded his restrained hands on his mid-section causing both to tense and place their hands on their weapon. He held in a snort of amusement and tipped his head back as if in casual regard. There was a thick clear partition separating the driver in the front from those in the back.
Maurin sat in the front with the lean watchful guard. Garik steeled his heart, muscles going lax as he reclined in the seat, drawing nervous stares. His spirit gained confidence with each mile they traversed assumedly to Maurin’s home and what would surely be his most painful trial yet.
Where Dedrin failed, where Maurin would fail as well, was in thinking that attaining the skill level Garik held as an assazi was about nothing more than sheer brute, physical strength.
They were wrong. It was about the mind and ones’ internal fortitude. Garik excelled in that arena because he had nothing to lose and everything to win. Dedrin had never understood that which ultimately led to his demise.
Garik inhaled and exhaled as they cross the courtyard from one complex to another. From the moment of his parents death to the time of Nevo Xyman offering him a chance with the Guild, all Garik had was himself and a belief if he could stand firm against uneven odds, he could stand firm against all else.
Training with the Guild had only solidified that belief. Now, indeed, Maurin would see that Garik was not defeated.
Nor was he prey to be so easily brought down.
Chapter 3
“We have orders to kill him in the morning,” the first voice said with a hint of glee in the tone.
“I know. Lord Maurin will