She kissed the bottom of his chin and lay down once more. “I’ll think on it. I’ve let you live too long as it is. I might get fired.” She toyed with his hard nipple, running her fingertip in slow circles across its shape.
“Do you do this to all the men you assassinate?”
“Only if they’re handsome.”
“The drugs must have blinded you.” He kissed the top of her head. His embrace locked her to him.
Melia snorted at his small joke. “I see just fine, Enrue.”
After their bath, they walked hand in hand to the bedroom and stood by the desk. There, he traced over her face with his fingers as if memorizing every detail. She had never had a man caress her in such a way. His soft touch made its way to her neck, lingered on her shoulders, and leisurely explored each of her breasts. She moaned in ecstasy.
“Am I doing this right?” he whispered, just before his mouth met her nipple.
“Keep it up. Maybe I’ll let you live.”
He suckled at her breast, drawing her nipple against the roof of his hot mouth. His hands paused at her waist.
“Bite it,” she told him.
“Just a little.
It feels good.” She glanced down at his unsure expression.
His teeth closed over her tender skin.
“Mmm.
Yes, that’s right.”
He released her and licked his way lower, crossing her navel until he knelt before her. He buried his face against her crotch, breathing in her scent. She reached down and ran her fingers through his damp hair.
“Have you ever been to Em-4?” she asked, envisioning the pink holograms from her ship’s shower.
“Shh,” he said against her slit. He parted her labia. His tongue darted in to test the way. Warmth, wetness and a gentle tickle made her shudder. He paused to say, “Why would you ask such a thing at a time like this?”
He sucked her bud past his lips, his tongue raking over its surface. She moaned and rocked into him. “I’ve—just always—wanted to…”
His mouth worked magic on her pussy, drawing her toward another climax. He swirled his tongue in patterns she couldn’t follow. At either side of his face, her thighs trembled. He worked with diligence until she succumbed, whimpering in the throes of a pounding release.
He rose and curled his arms around her. “I was born in the Em-4 system,” he said. “My parents were on holiday on the first planet. I came a month early.” He kissed her lips, the musk of her juices fresh on his lips. “Why? Did you need a vacation from work?”
Melia nodded, thinking this coincidence, his origins being in the one place she longed to escape to, were too much to be meaningless. “A vacation would be nice after I kill you.”
“You’re a determined woman.” He pushed her toward the bed. Her backside pressed into the mattress. Clutching her sore wrists, he held them above her head. “But you need to understand. I’m a determined man.”
Forcing her backwards, he parted her legs with his and bent over, his arousal evident once more. “I want to take you again, as many times as I can tonight.” He wedged his cock inside her in a slow thrust. “I want to fuck you, Melia. You need to realize I’m stronger than you.” He slammed into her hard. “Leave the Empire.”
She raised her legs and locked her ankles over his tight butt just as he drove himself in again. “I’ll think on it.” She stared into his eyes the whole time he pounded inside her. His aggression was returning and she liked it. She wanted to fight him, to draw him down and beneath her, but she didn’t.
He is meant for me.
He came in a violent thrust, gripping her wrists and groaning, his eyes squeezed shut. He let out a held breath and pumped into her a few more times. “Did you finish?” he asked.
“No.” She touched his face and urged him down on top of her. He obeyed and kissed her gently, his body slick with sweat. “But you can always try again.”
“Mmm yes.”
He let go of her arms and combed his fingers into her hair, holding the back of her head while their kisses deepened. He broke away, his cock leaving her. Enrue lay on his side, his arms shifting to her waist. He held her tight as if she might escape.
“Do you snore?” she asked.
He twisted his mouth.
“Probably.
There’s been no one in bed with me to complain.”
“You’re serious? You haven’t slept with anyone since your wife?” She never knew someone so high ranking who didn’t have a mistress.
“That’s right.”
“I don’t understand you.” She turned in his grip so her back faced him. Melia stared at the photovid on the bedside table. Scenes of Tarafian beaches and sunsets flashed and winked out in slow waves. “You can have anyone you want and yet you have no one. Why?”
He nuzzled her shoulder, small kisses lacing across her skin. “Why should I open myself up to loss again?”
The vid flashed and a portrait of a woman in a red dress overlooking the sea caught Melia’s attention. The woman looked familiar. She squinted, trying to place her. “So you chose me?
Such a smart man.”
“Swear loyalty to me, Melia. You want to stay here, don’t you?” He assaulted her neck with his mouth, causing tingles to spread over her body.
“I belong to the Empire. I’m a ward. I told you that already.”
He worked his way to her earlobe. The image of the woman by the sea winked out and another picture replaced it. Melia wanted to close her eyes when he began whispering in her ear, but she waited for the photo of the woman to appear once more. The tip of his tongue teased her skin.
A series of ten images flashed before it returned. “Who is that?” she asked.
He leaned over her shoulder to see.
“My daughter, Sima.
She was killed by Unangi rebels before I invaded Irnia.” A slight emotion sounded in his voice. “An experienced assassin would have known that detail. Don’t they give you files on your marks?”
“Of course.
I never looked up your daughter though, just you.” She placed her hands over his and closed her eyes. The memory of the woman in Alga came clear. Their resemblance was uncanny. She filed away the thought. “Go to sleep so I can kill you in the morning.”
“Quit your job. Stay here with me,” he murmured in her ear.
Chapter Twenty One
Shaman Achi
Morning sunlight lit the way. Tired from the trip, Razi walked beside Sima, his eyes roving over the gathering of Unangi people at either side of the worn path. They stared right back at him, their expressions full of curiosity. He didn’t feel like he was coming home, though. Rather, he felt the jungle was a place of mystery and darkness, a wild venue where magic danced just beyond his reach, a magic he once understood and accepted.
Thick leaves swayed in the humid wind. Bugs buzzed in the underbrush. No one said a word. Shrill birdcalls sounded every so often from deeper in the jungle. He wondered what other
creatures
lurked unseen. His memories didn’t bring him any solace, for they were old and mostly forgotten, cast aside in order to adapt to his life as a ward of Hicklan.
Lensi walked ahead of them, her head held high, her long, auburn hair tousling every so often. Drumbeats began when they neared the wooden steps leading to the ancient hut. The structure appeared ready to topple to one side, its roof leaning. Smoke drifted from the stone chimney in a hazy gray line. Razi heard the shaman inside, his voice a cadence of mutterings. A wave of familiarity swept over him; a rush of images of a dark hut, a gnarled hand, runes, scents of boiling stew...it overwhelmed him and he stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Sima asked. She turned on him, frowning. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.
“Bad memories.”
He cleared his throat and glanced back at the long lines of tribespeople. “Maybe I should wait out here. I don’t like this place. I’m missing toilets and running water.”
“Nonsense.”
She tugged his arm. “This is no time for jokes.”
Reluctantly, he followed. They had to bow their heads to enter the shadowy building. A hearth centered the room, and beside it, the shaman huddled over his stones and sticks…or were they bones? Razi squinted.
“Bones.”
He shook his head, but held his tongue. The house smelled like his childhood, earthy and innocent.
The wiry shaman stood, held his head up high and smiled a snaggle-toothed grin. “I am Achi, shaman to the Unanagi. You will sit.”
Lensi edged close to the wrinkled man, placed a hand on his shoulder in kinship and seated herself on the woven mat. “They told me you only speak Unangi.”
He winked at her and waited for the others to take their place. Gradually, his black eyes caught on Razi. He fingered his chin. “Ah. This one has returned.”
Razi nodded, settling in beside Sima. His fingers twined in hers. “Yes.” He didn’t want to be here anymore or have this ancient man blather on about him returning to the Unangi.
“You liked the ways of the city.” The shaman curled his legs into a knot. He heaved out a sigh and grasped the collection of divining tools before him. With both hands, he cupped the assortment and shook hard. Rattles and clinks echoed in the small space. “You have forgotten your place.”
Razi elbowed Sima, but said nothing. The last thing he needed was voodoo talk. He didn’t believe in any sort of magic bullshit like these simple people did, and he didn’t want a guilt trip for leaving either.
“Let us see where your future
lies
, son of Araturu.”
His mother’s name sent chills down his spine. “How could you—”
The shaman tossed his charms onto the mat where they fell into place. “Shh.” He waved a hand. “Let us see.” Ancient eyes studied. Fingers explored over a short nap of hair, scratching. “Soon, you will come from the darkness. You will make a choice you don’t like.”
Razi shrugged. “Look, old one. I’m not here for a psychic reading. This is my wife, Sima. She’s the daughter of someone important. If you want your people to live, talk to her and figure out how to have some sway in the fucked up government on this planet. As for this darkness and losing my way, that’s a crock. My family was starving and I sold myself to the Corp so my sisters wouldn’t have to.” He stood, backed to the door and shot Lensi and Sima a cold glare. “This is your game, ladies. I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
Without waiting for an answer, he dipped out and hurried away. The thick air made him sweat. He wiped his forehead, broke through the line of Unangi onlookers and stomped off into the jungle, feeling out of place in his dress clothes. The people here wore next to nothing at all, and he decided they were smart for their choice. He wished he had a flap of cloth to wrap over his genitals. No one would be the wiser. He’d fit in, at least.
Razi trudged through the overgrowth, bugs zipping by his ears. He halted at a gathering of enormous, black stones. After brushing the surface of one, he sat atop it, scowling. He planted his hand on the rock’s surface; it felt hot, and not in a natural way either. Glancing down, he studied its smoothness. “Aha.” A memory washed over him, the clink-clink of a stonecarver’s tools abrading his mind to recall more. He held his father’s hand then, so he mustn’t have been very old at all, for his father had left before he agreed to go to Hicklan. The two of them entered a sacred area in the jungle, marked as such by flaming torches with bird skulls dangling from their supports.
Razi drew in a deep breath and could almost smell his father’s skin as the two of them stared up at a statue in reverence. There were other statues in the shadows, but this one stood out to him. His father spoke in their native tongue, and he’d all but forgotten the words. Something in his mind told him he stared at the statue of the God of War.
He shook off the vision, his father’s voice echoing in his mind. As he had all his life before Sima, he wanted to hide, to stay somewhere safe. For the first time, his cowardice disgusted him.