Diomere's Exile

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

The next night found her outside the tavern Prime Guild called their headquarters. Nadia used glamour to blur her body into the shadows. A soft breeze off the river moved through the leaves of the trees, making the nighttime shadows dance against the side of the tavern. She paused and pulled her hooded cloak close as two Prime guards rounded the tavern’s corner. After the incident with Jon and the underwater tunnel, she trusted her a’mi abilities even less than before. When both guards looked through her, she eased past. She needn’t have worried. The imbeciles were too blinded by the fire of their torches as well as their after-duty plans.

“Druj take ’em if they don’t save me a turn with the big-breasted bitch,” the taller of the two guards muttered to his shorter partner.

The smaller guard smirked at his friend. “I paid Thanos and Stanrath to have her waiting for me when our shift ends.” The taller guard narrowed beady eyes at the shorter man, who just smiled. “Give me the dagger you stole off that prick you killed yesterday and I’ll share her with you.” The short guard’s lust-filled leer sickened Nadia. “You can have her mouth while I take her ass. A pint to the one who lasts longest.”

Shaking her head, she reminded herself of her reason for invading her rival’s territory and loosened her tight grip on the dagger at her waist. She slipped across the narrow alley, which separated the tavern from the edge of the slums, and peeked into a side window. The rest of Prime Guild filled the rickety tables as skimpily-dressed bar maids balanced trays of ale. A minstrel strummed the strings of a lyre in a lively tune which had the tavern’s occupants roaring with laughter and singing along.

Roland’s two lieutenants sat at a corner table near the stairs. One held the stiff form of a pale-faced young woman on his lap. Eyes wide with fear, she pulled away as he leaned forward and squeezed her breast. Nadia clenched her fists as Roland’s lieutenant, Thad, shoved the young woman onto her knees before him and opened his trousers.

An older woman with the same brown hair as the girl burst through the door of the kitchen, but was caught by the balding tavern keeper who shook his head. The older woman glared at her husband, sent an agonized look at her daughter, and then retreated back through the doors to the kitchen. The girl’s father turned away from his helpless daughter, his shoulders hunched. Nadia’s heart ached for the tavern keeper she knew would lose his livelihood if not lives of his family if he were to interfere.

The girl shook her head as Thad freed his engorged penis. Altair, Roland’s other lieutenant, taunted his comrade at the young woman’s rejection. Thad’s face flushed and his small eyes narrowed on the girl. He surged to his feet and cleared the table in front of him with a sweep of an arm. Grabbing the girl by her hair, he yanked her to her feet and slammed her face down across the table. As he reached to rip her skirts away, the tavern’s door opened. Altair pulled Thad’s attention away from the struggling girl toward the hooded man in the King’s colors.

Thad scowled and jerked the girl from the table. He whispered something that caused her face to blanch, then shoved her away and turned toward the visitor. Nadia sighed, relaxing her tight grip on the window’s ledge as the girl scrambled away from the men and disappeared through the kitchen door. The tavern keeper glared at Roland’s lieutenants until his attention was called by one of the men sitting at the bar. Nadia considered the man. He’d no doubt send the girl away, but would it be enough? Determined to set Pell on it when she returned to her own guild headquarters, she watched the two lieutenants lead the king’s man toward the stairs.

She pushed away from the window and jumped for the ledge to the second floor’s narrow catwalk which wrapped around two sides of the tavern. Pulling herself up, she crouched, listening for the guards. When no sound came, she pressed herself into the shadows against the wall and crept along the narrow walk, checking each of the windows to the guest rooms and the single door leading from the second floor. Finding none unlocked, she reached for the roof’s lip.

She caught movement from the corner of her eye and froze, willing her glamour to blend her body into the side of the tavern. Releasing the roof, she pushed against the wall and stared hard into the darkness. She strained to hear past the pounding of her heart and the nearby river’s gurgling. When nothing amiss appeared, she reached for the roof once again. She shoved away the feeling that someone else occupied the ledge with her. No one else had a reason to care what Roland and his flunkies were about.

She’d pulled only her upper body over the roof’s edge when the sound of the two muttering guards reached her ears. Pressing her legs against the underside of the eave, she froze, muscles quivering in protest, using her glamour to appear a part of the roof. The two guards, still haggling over the anticipated night with the whore, rounded the corner out of sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, Nadia scrambled onto the steep surface, the rough wood shingles scraping her knuckles. She rested, flat on her stomach, while her heart slowed its pounding.

Easing across the roof to the single window that opened to the tavern’s third floor, she was careful to avoid the light spilling through. She inched up to the side of the window and peered around the edge into the dark-paneled room. Near the window, a large, scarred table holding well-worn cards and dice stood surrounded by empty chairs. A low moan pulled her attention to a desk at the opposite end of the room.

The Prime Guild leader sat in the chair behind it, his face buried in the deep cleavage of a scantily clad nightingale. The woman leaned one elbow on the desk, her bored gaze on the ceiling as she rocked her hips and gave the expected moan. Her fingers clenched Roland’s thick auburn hair to hold his head to her breasts. Nadia settled more comfortably against the window’s edge, praying Roland’s lieutenants would arrive with the Dieuroi’s man soon.

A whisper of sound behind her pulled her attention from the room’s door. She slid a dagger from its sheath and melted back into the shadows, wrapping her glamour around her. Peering into the dark, she scanned the roof and surrounding darkness. Large eyes glowed from the branches of the ancient redwood trees that lined the river. She scowled. Only an owl. Telling herself to stop jumping at shadows, she turned back to the window as loud banging interrupted the two at the desk.

“Enter,” Roland growled as he pushed the whore from his lap and stood to button his pants.

His lieutenants entered, followed by the King’s man.

“Out,” Roland ordered.

The nightingale scrambled to her feet and hurried out of the room, both of Roland’s lieutenants following her naked breasts with their leering gazes. The Dieuroi’s man lowered his hood and scanned the room, paused at the dark window, and then settled on Roland’s smirking face. “You told no one, except those present?”

Roland’s brows lowered. “I kept the meeting between myself and my lieutenants.” Nadia made a note to reward her spy for a job well done as Roland crossed thick arms over his wide chest. “What is it our dear Dieuroi needs done that he demands such secrecy?”

The man remained silent, measuring Prime Guild’s leader with hard eyes.

Roland frowned and shifted his attention to his men. “You told no one?” Both men glanced at each other and shook their heads.

The man’s low, cold voice sent shivers down Nadia’s back. “You’re to eliminate a problem as quickly as possible before the crown prince discovers what you’re about. If you succeed, you’ll be handsomely rewarded.”

Interest and greed lit Roland’s whisky-brown gaze turning him from passably handsome to ugly. “I want Vromia Guild and ownership of the Emerald Mermaid Inn.”

A raised eyebrow his only expression, the Dieuroi’s man pulled a rolled parchment from the folds of his cloak. “Princess Nadia is a royal. Thuno can’t risk starting a war by taking her property from her”—he held the scroll out to Roland—“but Vromia Guild will be yours if you succeed.”

Roland scowled. “That royal is rumored to be the Shark’s bitch.”

The Dieuroi’s man shrugged. “What you do with his lover after the Shark is dethroned is up to you.”

Roland’s greedy smile stretched across his face, showing teeth darkened by tobacco. He snatched the scroll and broke what Nadia knew would be the Dieuroi’s seal pressed into wax. The Prime Guild leader scanned the words and his smile melted.

His forehead wrinkled, he looked up at the man. “I thought Dieuroi Mavros, the Heir, and the Bastard Prince were thick as the sands of an Arenatou duster, even despite the Dieuroi’s illness. What’d the bastard do to warrant a death sentence?”

Nadia gasped and clutched at the window’s ledge. She replayed Jon’s report from the royal fishing expedition. Thunoans hated all things A’mi. If the bastard prince had shifted into Mer form, this change of attitude for the boy didn’t surprise her in the least. She knew the young prince wouldn’t see another fortnight. Her heart thundered in her chest. She’d use every resource at her disposal to get him away from Thuno even if he didn’t turn out to be her nephew.

The Dieuroi’s man gave Roland a hard look. “It’s not your place to ask questions. You have a fortnight to complete the job if you want Vromia Guild.” The man lifted the hood of his cloak and settled it back around his face, then turned. Pausing at the door, he looked back over his shoulder at a silent Roland. “Burn that. Should Prince Stefan learn of this job, you’ll never get near the bastard prince.”

The man gestured toward the door and the two lieutenants tripped over each other in their haste to let him out. Nadia sat back on her heels as the door was closed behind the man.

Roland sank into a chair, his lips stretched in a greedy, close-lipped smile. “Boys, we have a job to do. I want to be living it up at the Emerald Mermaid with the princess’ lips locked around my cock before the fortnight ends.”

Nadia rolled her eyes and turned from the window. No way would Roland be able to keep quiet about his future prospects. Her spy would have the details of the plan to her by the morning. Easing her soft-soled boots down the steep pitch of the roof, she reached the edge and listened for sound of the patrolling guards while inspecting each shadow cast by the sliver of moon in the black sky. Satisfied she was alone, she lowered her body over the ledge and dropped onto the catwalk.

She froze as the guards, a different set than before, turned the corner and moved slowly along the side of the inn, both stifling bored yawns. She moved quickly toward the back of the tavern, avoiding the light spilling from the windows of the occupied rooms. From the sounds of the moans and grunts, business was good for the nightingales.

As she approached the single door leading from the second floor, it opened and a hooded figured stepped out. She pressed against the side of the tavern and pulled her glamour around her, willing the man to see naught but the tavern’s wall. The man froze, staring right at her. Her stomach dropped.

Nadia dove for the edge of the catwalk. The man snagged her cloak in his fist. He yanked her away from the ledge. Pulling the knife from her boot, she whirled. She slid the sharp blade across her assailant’s arm. He released her cloak and grabbed her wrist. They fell in a silent, straining heap onto the catwalk. Her assailant rolled her under him. He slammed her arm against the walk. She dropped the knife. His other hand skimmed her breast as he reached for his own weapon. He hesitated.

She twisted and rolled, gaining the upper hand, while hitting the release mechanism on her wrist sheath. A dagger slid into her hand. She straddled him, pressing the dagger to his throat with a cold smile. He froze. They lay in the pool of light from the nearest second floor window, faces no longer hidden by their cloaks. She met a familiar amber stare, inhaled Gregor’s honey lemon scent.

Her a’mi buzzed inside her, pushing her toward him, and she scowled. “You.”

“Nadia.”

Her gaze caressed his face. Would he taste as good as she’d dreamed?

Yanking her eyes from his lips, her scowl deepened. “Why are you here?”

“It’s apparent we’ve both been sent to spy on Roland. Are you going to use that weapon or let me go?” he asked, his smile making things low in her stomach clench.

Nadia resisted the urge to punch his smile off his face. She was too susceptible to his charms and somehow he knew it. She lifted the dagger from his neck and he grabbed her wrist, rolling until he pinned her beneath him, her wrists held above her head. She bucked and yanked at her arms, cursing him under her breath in every language of Saimond, but only succeeded in making his smile widen. His gaze roamed her face, caressing the scar on her cheek, lingering on her lips. He lifted his smoldering eyes and lowered his head. A deep throbbing started between her legs and she squeezed her thighs together.

His lips hovered over hers. “I’ve been wondering what you taste like outside my dreams since the festival.”

He nibbled at her lips, but she held them pressed together. A swipe of his tongue along her bottom lip made her gasp and he was in. His taste burst over her tongue while his scent invaded every breath. Tingles burst across her body. He tasted better than any dream. The world narrowed to just the two of them. He clamped his arms around her and rolled so that she now rested on top, her breasts pressed tightly against his chest, her legs straddling his hips. The unmistakable bulge of his erection pressed against her most sensitive spot.

She yanked her head back, her chest heaving. His eyes glowed in satisfaction. Heat spread from her throbbing core through her belly to bloom in her cheeks. Her eyes lowered to his full lips, still wet from their kiss. He laid frozen as if waiting for her to decide what would happen next. Would the second kiss be as devastating as the first? She glanced up, but his gaze was shuttered. Waiting for her. She lowered her gaze again. She had to know. She swallowed and leaned forward.

Their lips met. A thrill of a’mi darted from their joined mouths through her body. She ran her tongue over his bottom lip and shuddered at the softness. His mouth opened as he groaned and rolled them over again, nestled between her thighs, his shaft rubbing against her damp sex.

His mouth devoured hers. His hands trailed fire everywhere they touched. She was drunk on a’mi and desire, but didn’t care. Her blood rushed through her body, on fire, overwhelming, yet it felt so damn good. He deftly undid the buttons of her tunic and yanked her undershirt up over her bound, aching breasts. Nadia jerked the tail of his shirt from his pants, desperate to feel his warm skin under her fingers. She raked her fingernails over the smooth skin of his back, forcing a groan from deep in his chest. She could feel his fingers brush her stomach as he loosened the ties of her salvar, and she arched into the caress, needing more. She’d never experienced an ache as intense as that of the throbbing nub nestled at the top of her slit. The kiss of cool air on her swollen nipples jolted her from her sensual haze. They were practically having sex where anyone could come upon them at any moment.

A different kind of heat warmed her cheeks, and she shoved at his chest. “Stop.”

He groaned and rested his forehead on hers. Their eyes locked and Nadia fought his pull.

“You must see this is worth the complication,” he said, voice hoarse with desire.

Her eyes narrowed. She shoved again. Reluctantly, he moved off her. Listening for the guards, she straightened her clothing. Humiliation burned her cheeks and turned to anger. She’d practically thrown herself at him. She was no better than her father. He stepped toward her, but she slid over the edge of the catwalk to hang from the roof and drop to the ground. Not looking to see if he followed, she ran into the shadows and moved away from the tavern. A whisper of sound and arms were circling her once again.

His breath sighed past her ear, causing her sex to weep in longing. “Let me call on you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. Her body begged for his touch. She told her hands to pull his arms loose from her waist, but they only clenched and unclenched helplessly. She turned in his embrace and stared up into his shadowed face. He’s Prince Stefan’s man, she reminded herself.

Stiffening her resolve, she pushed from his embrace. “I have to go.”

He stood frozen as she backed away, his face in shadow. She yanked her cloak close around her face and turned to go.

“Wait,” he called.

She paused, but didn’t turn around.

“I know you were exiled with only the coin you could carry.”

“It’s common knowledge.”

“Is this why you lower yourself to work for the Shark? Did he agree to loan you the amount needed to purchase the Emerald Mermaid? I would help if you’d let me,” he whispered.

She clenched her jaw. Five years she’d managed to keep her identity as the Shark and the Lady Nadia de Quinones separate. She wouldn’t ruin it all now.

“I return to Diomere after I locate my nephew, and you will one day be Thuno’s royal advisor. We have no future, and I’m not the type of woman who would ever enjoy a fling.”

She turned and darted into the shadows as silent as a wraith.