Pleasure (31 page)

“Yes, well, I'm sorry, dear. That was all in the name of furthering our ambitions.”

“I learned a lot,” she noted.

“Yes dear, it was very helpful. Now let's give him the shot and watch her cry her eyes out. That should make up for all those years, hmm?”

“I'll never forget them,” Fatima argued. “Not a single minute. No more than
Ajai
Guin will. Because I learned what a strong and amazing woman it takes to gather and rule a culture. I learned how honestly good she always meant to be, even though she had her flaws like anyone else. I learned how strong a man could be as he selflessly repressed his feelings year after year just because he thought speaking up could be a detriment to her happiness.”

“Fatima, what are you talking about?” Helene barked.

Fatima leaned close to Guin's ear as she steadied the needle above his skin.

“I learned how to think for myself and act for myself. Like I did when I ran to the palace a few minutes ago and told them where these two were and what your plans were for them. And like when I opened the door and let them all in the house.”

Andonel realized what she was saying first. He rushed Fatima, grabbing for the needle. But she thwarted him by jabbing it into her own arm and pressing the plunger. Acadian screamed, turning sharply toward the stairs as she recognized her daughter's betrayal at last. She turned just in time to see Daenaira throw a sai at her, the weapon hitting her so hard she was flung back against her table of torture. Acadian regained her balance and struggled upright, staring in shock at the three-pronged weapon spearing through her left shoulder.

“You bitch!” Helene screeched. No one knew if she meant Fatima or Dae.

Fatima meanwhile had slipped free of Andonel and raced across to Malaya, sinking down on her knees in front of her and throwing her arms around her in a hard hug.

“I love you,
K'yatsume.
I have for so long now. I wanted to tell you every single day, but I thought you might never forgive me and would send me away from you. Half of what I told her was lies. The rest was vague and going to be made public soon anyway. When Nicoya was moving quickly into power, I knew going along with her would be the only way to protect you. It's like
Ajai
Guin said. She never broke any laws. Not until she actually took you. She lied. I didn't tell her where you were. It was someone in the tavern. I should have said so, but I was so afraid and I knew this was a chance to catch her in the act so you could punish her for all she's done once and for all. I never meant for you to be hurt. I ran as fast as I could. I did.”

Fatima drew back and looked into Malaya's eyes.

“There's no such thing as a memory toxin,” she whispered.

The young woman collapsed back on her heels, her arms sliding weakly away from Malaya.

“Oh gods, no,” Malaya gasped.

“Good! Treacherous little bitch! Die!” Acadian screamed.

Then she grabbed at the implements on the table, fumbling for something sharp to do some damage with. The room was filling with armed men, but it was Magnus who strode up to her, grabbed the sai lodged in her body, and twisted it hard.

With a horrible scream of pain, Acadian fell to her knees. Once she was down and kneeling, Magnus settled his katana's blade along the back of her neck. Malaya could see his blade vibrating with the rage he was trying to hold in check. The katana pricked through the skin of its victim and Acadian began to bleed.

“Your crimes are many and straddle both common and religious law, but the gods have seen to it that I am here first and so to me you will answer first.” Magnus clamped his hand down on her shoulder, his third power blossoming forth. Whatever he asked, she would now be forced to speak only truths. “Do you regret your crimes and repent of all your sins?”

“Yes!” she cried the word in triumph, thinking it would be that easy.

“Do you really, now? With all of your heart and soul, will you pay whatever penance to your gods that I assign you? Even if it means serving Daenaira on your knees for a year in order to be forgiven for your crime against her?”

And here the truth came out.

“Never! I'd kill your whore the minute you turned your back for what she did to my baby! My daughter. My real and only daughter who was loyal to me every—”

Her tirade was cut abruptly short when Magnus's sword cut through her windpipe.

The instant he was finally free, Guin raced across to Malaya and dragged her into his arms. She wrapped herself around him, holding him tightly and sobbing openly. Gods, how he hated to see her cry. Feeling her tears on his skin, the salt of them stinging his wounds as they rolled down his chest, he was dying a little with every sniffle.

“They almost killed you!” She was looking over his shoulder at Fatima, who lay struggling for her breath, her gaze already fixed and glassy. Magnus was leaning over her, talking softly to her, no doubt providing her the opportunity for absolution. She should be absolved and more. Her sacrifice had saved them both and would benefit her people for generations. Malaya would see to it that Fatima was recognized for her heroism. So unrecognized in life, she would be honored in death if they couldn't find a way to save her.

“I'm all right,” Guin assured her, kissing her and stroking her hair, checking the raw wounds on her body where the chains had bit into her. “We're both all right.” He looked around the room, seeing others watching them with curiosity. The only one who didn't look surprised was Daenaira.
She just twirled her remaining sai and looked very amused. Guin found Killian in the sea of guards and snapped at him, “Get the Chancellor something to cover up with, damn it. And start thinking up a good reason why you let her get away from you.”

Killian chuckled and drawled, “Because I wasn't on duty. You think I'd be dumb enough to fall for a trick like getting locked in a room?”

Guin fought a grin as he looked back at Malaya.

“Hmm, the old room trap, eh? I fell for that once.”

“Only once,” she added, smiling wetly as she tried to wipe away her tears. “Something like forty-seven years ago.”

“The old tricks are the best tricks.”

Malaya went to sit back a little, but he kept her very tight to his chest where she would be mostly protected from the eyes of others. It didn't matter to him that kneeling with her legs wrapped around his waist was a very provocative position. He knew everyone else was too concerned with what they had been through to really think about it. He wished he could say the same. He was being crushed by adrenaline and was so relieved to feel her safe in his embrace he couldn't even think straight. Working more on instinct than anything else, he was very aware of the need for her that was crawling steadily through him. To come so close to such horror—he couldn't shake the idea of forgetting her love for him, and all he wanted to do was make memories with her. Not just sexually, but anything where he knew all the while that she was in love with him and wanted him more than anything else in her life. However, sitting the way they were, sexually was pretty much easy pickings.

“Down, boy,” she whispered softly to him, amusement erasing the pain from her features almost instantly. For that, it was worth every inappropriate sensation he was feeling.

“Can I help it if you're hotter than this black fire over here?” he whispered back to her.

“Hmm. And when they take me away from you and
you're sporting a major hard-on, that won't embarrass you a little?”

“No, because no one is taking you away from me.” Guin reached out and stroked a thumb over her cheek. “Not ever again.”

“Ditto. And leaving voluntarily is also out of the question.”

“And so is trading away your life. I'm really pissed off at you about that.”

“I can tell.” She snickered, shifting a little in his lap.

Guin closed his eyes briefly and tried not to look like he was enjoying himself. After all, he'd just escaped this hell with his life barely intact. He concentrated on the stinging wounds across his chest, the alphabet…any mundane thing he could think of. It could hardly be effective while she was shifting around…and he was more and more certain she was doing it on purpose now.

“And here I thought I'd been rescued from torture.”

“Poor you,” she said sympathetically.

“Ah, rescued again,” he said when Killian came up to them with blankets.

Guin took them from him and wrapped Malaya up tightly, continuing to hold her just as tightly and affectionately as ever. It felt incredibly good to know he had the right to touch her like this publicly. It felt even better when she wasn't in any hurry to leave his arms.

Magnus came over to them, taking a knee beside them.

“Fatima died. Poor thing. She was very brave, doing what she did. She knew if we laid siege, her mother would kill you immediately. She volunteered to come back and open the house to us.”

“She was a good girl.”

“So were you,” Guin countered. “Thank the gods for who you are,
K'yatsume.
She wouldn't have learned to love you so much otherwise.”

“Hey, what'd I tell you about calling me
K'yatsume
when we're—”

Guin's hand quickly covered her mouth and he glanced at Magnus, who dropped his head to cover a smile.

“Thank you for your timely entrance,
M'jan
Magnus,” he said. “I was getting worried for a second there.”

“Just a second?” Magnus asked.

“How is Dae?” Malaya queried.

“I think…I think she's satisfied for the moment. But it won't last long. When we get back to Sanctuary, she'll begin to realize nothing has really changed. But I'll be there when she does.” He looked up and smiled enigmatically at his handmaiden. “So,” he said after a moment, “shall we get you two home?”

“Gladly,” Guin said.

“And where is home these days?” he asked of Guin.

Guin looked at Malaya and grinned.

“Where it always is. Right next to her.”

 

Malaya rolled over slowly, burrowing into the big, warm body next to her, sliding her naked skin on his and enjoying the feel so much that she smiled. He moved, his arm curling up and around her shoulders until he had her wrapped tightly against his side and chest. She heard him sigh long and slow as he dropped two slow kisses at her hairline.

“Big night,” he noted softly.

“I don't see why,” she replied, exaggerating a yawn and stretch.

“Maybe because you are going before the Senate today to tell them who you have picked for your future groom?”

“Trust me, after that whole business at Acadian's and these past couple of days we spent locked up in here, I'm pretty sure gossip has done the job for me.”

“They know I'm your lover at most. You've told no one but Tristan, and he is too pleased at the idea of seeing the
shock on their faces to give anything away. I wasn't certain if I should find that insulting or not.”

“Not. He has developed a real animosity toward the Senate because of this law and he just wants to see me put them in their places. Tristan thinks the world of you, Guin.”

“As a man, maybe. But as a brother-in-law?”

“Are we back to this again? Don't feel like this, Guin. And stop worrying that others will feel this way. Tristan is happy for me. He even said something to the effect of ‘It's about time you figured it out, sis.' Which made me want to hit him. Seems like everyone knew how you felt but me.” He chuckled when she frowned petulantly. “Well. I feel like an ass.”

“The only one who really knew for any length of time, my honey, was Trace. He figured it out a few years back. I'd say the rest of them bought a clue after the whole arranged marriage thing started to give me a meltdown. They aren't all as smart as they think they are.”

“They were still quicker about it than I was.” She scooted up over him, looking down straight into his eyes. “I don't know how you ever could think someone so dense was so perfect. For that matter, you didn't treat me like you thought I was perfect. You were always arguing with me.”

“Yeah, but your stubbornness was one of your charms. I guess I love a strong-willed woman. You've never been afraid of me. Everyone else always is. Intimidated at the very least. That makes an impression on someone like me.” He grinned as he drew her down so he could nuzzle her under her ear. “So does the fact that you always smell like sweet jasmine and that you have skin so smooth it would make
Drenna
jealous.”

“Guin,” she scolded. “Don't say things like that.”

“Well it's true. And She will forgive a man in love for feeling that way if She can forgive criminals of terrible crimes.” He frowned. “You know, my only regret is that I didn't get to kill Acadian for myself. Magnus asked her to
repent, was in essence giving her a chance to make amends, and all I could think was that there were no amends and not enough punishment in the world to make up for what she did to Dae. I let myself think, once, about how I would feel if it had been you and me and our baby. I guess it was the only way I could figure out how to relate to what Magnus was going through. It made me physically ill just considering the possibility. And when I saw Daenaira in bed covered in blood like that, all I could see was you.” He sighed wearily. “Shoulda crushed her fucking neck when I had the chance.”

“Yes. It would have saved you a great deal of pain.”

Malaya pushed up on her arms to see his healing chest. Unlike Trace's, these wounds had not been made repetitively over a year's worth of time, so he probably wouldn't scar as obviously…if at all. His racial constitution would see to that. She was glad. She didn't want him to carry a physical reminder of those horrid minutes when they were in her power. Malaya also drew up an entirely new level of respect for Tristan's vizier, just as she knew Guin had. For Trace to have suffered that brutality every single day of every month for eleven months…it was inconceivable. It was amazing what the mind could put up with in the name of survival. But Trace had paid for it with scars that ran much deeper than the visible. Only Ashla had managed to touch him beyond them.

“Did you make any progress for Ashla?” she asked suddenly.

“In a way. I have someone inside the guilds who will resolve the issue. I have complete faith in his ability. I also have faith in his desire to earn my money off me. Maybe some of yours as well.”

“Who is he? How can he do this? How do you know he will succeed?”

“Consider it an ‘It takes a thief…' approach and try not to ask me any more about it. The less I say, the better for
everyone. We'll hear about it when it's all over. I told him not to waste time.”

“Okay. You're right. After this business with Fatima, we'll have to make an effort to be much more careful about what we say and who is in the room when we say it. Oh, but Guin, what an incredible relief it is to know Acadian is dead! She's hung like a pall over us for so long! I guess we're lucky she underestimated her daughter's free will, huh? The gods give us our fates, but also the free will to change them if we want.”

“We're lucky,” he said softly, drawing fingers through her hair, “that Helene underestimated you. It always amazes me how people still do that. Because you are so lovely, feminine, and traditional, they think it means meek or mild or easily overshadowed. I think you constantly surprise your opponents when you stand so proudly before them and deflect every missile and every trick with grace and poise and don't even put a hair out of place. But Fatima saw exactly what I saw the day we met, my honey. That indefinable thing in your spirit that makes others long for you to lead them into a better future. You make it so easy to believe in you, and even easier to love you.”

Guin saw her contented little smile spread slow and soft over her mouth as she lay along him once more and relaxed in the warmth of their bodies together. Just the act of it sent contentment through him as well. He wondered if it would take another fifty years to get used to being free to hold her like this, or if he would ever stop enjoying it as thoroughly as he did.

He was just happy to know he was going to get to find out.

But he didn't think he was having all that distorted a view of how the Senate was going to react to him as a choice in a husband. He was lowborn and dual-powered. He had no wealth to bring to the monarchy except what he'd been allotted for his service to the crown, and much of that was going
to end up in Talon's pocket if and when he succeeded in his task. Guin didn't mind that. The assassin would have earned every penny of it.

But historically speaking, nobles married nobles. They shared wealth, position, and the genetic material that produced heirs with third powers. A third power in their society was often defining in how far a person would go. Those who had them often ended up as priests or handmaidens in Sanctuary, serving the gods and the educational upbringing of all of the Shadowdweller children. Or they moved in powerful political circles and made their mark in that way.

Rika, Trace, Tristan, and Malaya all had third powers. He did not. He had compensated for it by forging himself into the very best he could be, using his instincts to their utmost, but that would never change the nature of his blood or the genetic material he would provide to their children.

No. She was wrong when she said they wouldn't gainsay her choice. He'd seen that blue-blooded list they'd given her. Over half the suggestions disgusted him, some actually outraged. His objectivity in looking at it was destroyed, he knew, but he couldn't help the feeling that they'd been steering her toward a particular choice by giving her such a provocative list. Anyone who had been a part of the war, and they all had been a part of it, would know how savagely those men had behaved against the twins. And while it was true that war was war and there were few rules involved, there were morals and honor to be upheld even then, and it was unforgivable when they weren't. Despite the pardons, some of their cruel acts would not be forgiven and certainly not forgotten. Not even by the benevolent Malaya. The idea of marrying men like that was preposterous.