“Oh, I know I can. But can you? You will have to act the part of my slave.”
His enjoyment irritated me. “I will.” I hated to rely on him so much, but it couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t do this without him, and we both knew it. Not successfully, at least. First Lucius, now Devyn. I’d always been a woman who prided myself on getting the job done right all on my own. Admitting I needed help left a bitter taste in my mouth. Right now I was too concerned with saving the man I loved to give a shit.
Loved?
I almost groaned. I did, I realized. I loved him. Somehow, during this mission, he’d become everything to me. He was smart, resourceful. Intense. Sarcastic. He was everything I’d needed in my life, but hadn’t known until just now.
The car moved another inch. “Once Lucius and the others are safe, I’ll need you to get me close to EenLi. He will be here tonight, won’t he?”
“He has attended every auction in the past, so I expect him to be at this one. Are you going to kill him?”
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation, relish dripping from my tone.
Devyn’s head tilted to the side as he considered my words. “I do not think I want him dead.”
“Why the hell not? He’s evil.”
“Yes, but he supplies my women.”
I rolled my eyes. “Why do you enslave women like that? You’re a handsome man. Females of every race would willingly come to you if you only asked.”
One of his brows arched. “You wouldn’t. You didn’t. ”
Good point. “I’m an exception to the rule.”
“Not for long,” he said cockily. As he spoke, he reached over and traced a fingertip over my thigh. His skin was callused and surprisingly cool, a sweet contrast to the heat outside.
“Get your hand off me before you don’t have a hand to remove. Your night hasn’t started yet.”
His mouth stretched wide in a grin, but he did as I’d asked and removed his hand. “Touchy, touchy. You should be rejoicing, little Raka. One day soon, if not this very night, you’re going to be lying in my arms. Where is your joy? Your words of thanks?”
“Your other women got to scratch you and draw your blood. That’s the only thought giving me joy right now.”
“Silly woman.” His grin slowly faded. His expression became deadly serious. Gone was the man of easy humor, and in his place was the king of Targon. I didn’t know what had brought about the change, but I could guess. He’d actually begun to enjoy the intrigue and danger of this mission, and he wanted to win.
“When we get inside,” he said, his tone as cool as his touch had been, “you need to walk two steps behind me. You will sit at my feet when I take a chair.” His gaze flicked over my black pants and shirt. “You’ll need something sexier to wear. I would never bring my slave out in public like that. What happened to your pink clothing?”
“I trashed it. And I have nothing else to wear.”
“Then strip,” he said, as if it was a perfectly natural thing to demand of me.
Scowling, I ripped off my shirt and threw the material in the back seat, leaving me in my bra. It was black, not particularly sexy, but it did showcase my golden skin in a nice way. Several blade handles poked above the waist of my pants. Without the shirt, my guns were also visible. I had to remove most of them.
“Take off the pants,” Devyn ordered.
“Go to hell,” I said, but withdrew my knife and cut the legs off of the pants until I wore the tiniest scrap of material—barely covering the curve of my ass.
“Much better. Now release your hair from confinement.”
I ripped the band from my hair, and the silky strands instantly fell over my shoulders, down my back.
“I cannot wait to have you,” he said on a breath of desire.
Well, he was just going to have to.
Our car finally moved to the front of the line and stopped. A cowboy-clad human opened my door, and I emerged. The midnight air boasted the scent of hay and car fumes. The human’s eyes drank me in, his expression lighting with awe. I don’t think he even realized he was reaching out to me, to caress a hand down my bare stomach. I stepped aside, not wanting his fingers anywhere on me.
Devyn came around the car and moved in front of me, looking sexy as hell in his moss green kilt and white shirt. His glossy brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. His amber eyes were alive. Without a word, he began walking, expecting me to follow. I did. The crowd parted automatically for him as we entered the building. I felt many stares but I didn’t acknowledge them.
My boots bit into the dirt floor. Devyn stopped several times to speak with an acquaintance, and I used the time to search for EenLi. He was nowhere that I could see, and that caused shards of frustration to cut through me. What if he did not attend?
I was soon led to a group of folding chairs lined up in front of a scaffold. My heart thundered in my chest. Atop the scaffold were the “slaves.” Their hands were tied over their heads and anchored to a wooden beam. They wore gauzy white robes, easily parted and removable for viewing.
I saw the five women from the cell, and my knees almost buckled in relief. Their expressions were pale with fear, but they were alive. There were six other women, as well, but I didn’t recognize them. Nor did I recognize the strong, muscled men bound beside them. My gaze darted to the others, the ones in back, but I couldn’t see them all. Lucius, Lucius, my mind chanted as I searched for him, praying he was here. My muscles kept a viselike grip on my bones.
The Targon king claimed a seat on the first row. Recalling his words to me, I stiffly sank down at his feet. God, I didn’t want to. I wanted to stand, to scream, to act. Patience, I reminded myself. Patience.
He patted my head. “Good girl,” he said, obviously enjoying himself.
My new position did not change my actions. I continued to scan the slaves. The one at the end of the scaffold was partially hidden by shadows and the two men who were inspecting him. The slave’s legs were extended, his robe parted, and I could see his bronzed skin. For a minute, my lungs refused to draw in a breath.
I gulped, willing the men to move out of my line of vision. Sweat beaded on my forehead. My shaky hands clutched at the dirt beneath me. Move, my mind screamed. Patience proved too elusive, so I gave up the effort to find it.
Finally the men ambled off the scaffold, giving me a clear view of the slave.
My lungs jolted into motion, and at last I sucked in a breath. I nearly jumped to my feet and raced up those wooden stairs. He was here. Lucius was here. And he was alive. Relief and joy pounded through me so potently, I could have wept. His features were blank and pale; his fake scar was gone, and I was willing to bet his contacts had been removed. His robe covered his shoulder and chest, so I couldn’t see his wound. His clothes weren’t bloody, so that meant he’d been bandaged up.
“I told you he would be here,” Devyn said.
A woman approached Lucius, parted his robe, and gazed at his nakedness. Her large frame blocked my own viewing. Lucius passively accepted her perusal, which wasn’t like him. What was wrong with him?
I didn’t want to, but I switched my attention to Devyn. “See the woman at the end of the scaffold?”
Without looking down at me, he nodded.
“Get her to move. Please.”
In the next instant, the woman yelped and tumbled off the edge as if she’d been propelled by a great gust of wind. I jolted to my feet, hoping to gain Lucius’s attention.
His gaze was moving listlessly over the crowd, then…our eyes locked.
Relief, hope, joy, fury, all washed over his face—all the emotions I felt—and he snapped out of his passive haze. He jerked against the ties at his wrists, shaking the entire scaffold.