pounding from her run-in with Samar and his pals, head spinning from being so close to the stranger, she spit the truth out without thought.
That was a first.
Not that she lied on a regular basis, but she’d learned from a young age to keep her mouth shut, to say only as much as necessary. The less people knew about you, the less they had to use against you. And information could sometimes be bartered for food and money.
It was one of many ways she’d managed to shelter and feed her family.
Hurrying to cover up her mistake, she smiled. “I mean, I saw you. At the harira stall. I know all the locals and you’re not from here.”
She wished she could see his eyes. It would give her a better idea what he was thinking, but they were covered by his sunshades. Expensive ones. His clothing was similar to hers but much better quality. Being poor as a child and a trader as an adult, she knew the difference.
“I was from here once.”
The deep sound of his voice sank into her bones and warmed her from the inside out. No, that was the midday sun. Had nothing to do with this man.
“Do you have a name?”
“I do.”
The dust from the passing cart had settled. There was no breeze to cut through the heat. It was the time of day most took refuge inside until it began to cool as the afternoon waned. She waited, but he offered nothing.
It was time for her to go. She’d already wasted time she didn’t have and given Samar another reason to hate her. It was shaping up to be a stellar day.
Damn him. Damn Samar. And damn her father.
“Fine. See you around.” She trotted toward the vendors, wary of the man behind her and those who might be waiting for her. What had possessed her to get involved? Oh, yeah, the thought he might be involved with her father. And his compelling face.
Served her right for getting distracted. She knew better.
“Wait,” he called.
Oh no, she was done with him. Jamaeh slipped between two homes, flattening her body against the warm stones. It was a tight squeeze, the rough stone pulling at her clothing, but she managed. There was no way he could follow. He was too damn big to fit.
She ducked down an alley and across a lane that spit her back out into the market. The crowd had dwindled to almost nonexistent. Most stalls had closed and would remain so for the next three hours, opening to enjoy the remainder of the afternoon and early evening hours.
Cursing herself for staying so long, she kept to the shadows as she made her way toward the exit. From there, it was a short walk home where she could regroup and figure out a plan of action to find her brother.
The air behind her stirred. Jamaeh dropped and rolled, popping to her feet several feet away. The knife she wore at the small of her back was in her hand, her knees bent, ready to defend herself.
The stranger held his hands out in front of him. “I mean you no harm.”
“How did you follow me?” She slid the knife away as swiftly as she’d pulled it. No way had he been able to follow the same path she’d taken. And if he’d retraced his steps, he’d have ended up at the opposite entrance of the market.
The corners of his mouth twitched. Her heart skipped a beat as those full lips threatened to smile, stopping just short. He pointed up.
She frowned and looked. Her mouth fell open. “The rooftops?” He was more than just a pretty face. It made her rethink her earlier actions. Maybe he hadn’t needed saving. Seemed her first impression had been right. This was a dangerous man.
He shrugged. “I couldn’t fit where you did.” He took another step closer. “Zaxe. My name is Zaxe.”
“That’s a weapon, not a name.” A zaxe was a native axe. The personal guards and armies of the ruling families now fought with blasters, but they all learned how to use the zaxe. It was part of their heritage. She’d even paid for Esau to have lessons because there was no male family member to teach him.
Maybe it wasn’t his real name. Although, why bother to lie?
His lips thinned. “It’s mine.”
Obviously a sore spot. She, better than most, understood that. “Good to meet you, Zaxe. I’ll be going now.” She pointed off in the other direction. “That’s where you came