*****
"Have a man come at me with a dagger and I shall have a dagger. Have him attack me with a sword and I shall pierce him with a sword. Have him shackle me and I'll crush his throat with those shackles.
I'm an exceptional killer. I'll kill my enemy with whatever gifts he brings me..."
-Savage Jack has told many an assassin.
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Blue Lark's Guild, Dread Hideout
“He’s here.” Markus tossed open the door of Dimurah’s hut to announce. Rain still running rivulets down his forehead.
“Goddamnit all to hell!” The beautiful redhead looked like an angel but spoke like a sailor.
Possibly a trait gleaned from her associates in the guild.
She swept up her dirtied green cloak. And smeared fresh mud from the basin near the door, across her face as she headed out the door.
“Where are you going, Mum?” Markus, one of her bodyguards asked.
“To try to keep him from killing anyone.”
“How so, Mum?” He fondled the hilt of the sword on his hip.
“To distract him.”
“Though you do distract him mightily well, it’s only ever a temporary reprieve. It won’t prevent anything.” He said disheartened. “He does whatever he damn well pleases.”
“Not in my alehouse!” She tossed over her shoulder bitterly. “It’s your job to see that he doesn’t.”
“In his fortress.” He grumbled. “I’ll rouse the rest of the men.” Markus hurried after her. Shouting for the three other bodyguards she retained. Booting the doors of their huts as they strode by, until hearing stirring within. Usually only two were on duty but when he was in the Dread Hideout, they needed to rally.
Dimurah entered her alehouse, Winter Haven, with the four bodyguards in tow.
She heard his gravelly laughter from outside. Studying the worn door of the floating structure pensively. The mired lake surrounding it, looked nearly black in the moonlight. An omen of her souring mood.
When she opened the door. She was already in high temper.
It wasn’t hard to spot him. He dominated any room he was in. Tall, and though not rippling with muscle, his body was chorded in such a way it warned others he’d not only be strong, but also mobile and quick. Piercing blue eyes lifted to look across the room. Meeting her lighter ones.
He lifted his chin haughtily, tipping back his blonde head as his eyes zeroed in on her. There you are.
“Murah.” He purred.
***
“I’ve told you many times, my name is Dimurah!”
“You’ve told me many things.” He rumbled. Giving the blonde woman clinging to his shoulder, a severe look.
She scurried away at his expression.
“Least of which is that my name is Dimurah!” She shouted.
“Most of which, is how you ache for my hands and arch for my mouth on your-”
“Cease your filth!”
“Keep prodding me. You won’t like how far I take this…” He lifted a frothing tankard toward her in warning.
Robust laughter echoed in the room. Approving his lude remarks. Everyone in the alehouse watched the interchange. Intent on the discussion. Taking in every dripping retort. Barmaids and dangerous assassins alike.
“Your crass tongue and foul innuendos are not duly appreciated here!” She wove through the crowd to confront him.
“Aren’t they?” His gaze locked on her, dangerously as laughter rose around them.
Dimurah wasn’t deluded. Knowing full well every man in here was rife with amusement.
But they’d also cut the throat of the man next to him for the right amount of coin. Especially this one. But she was unafraid as she reached the vicious assassin watching her so astutely.
Savage leaned against the wooden bar. Braced by an elbow on the surface as he awaited her.
She faced him fearlessly despite everyone else here giving him a wide berth. “Why are you here, Savage?”
“You know very well why.” He gave her a lazy grin as he eased closer. The leather of his tunic and breeches creaking as he shifted. “That’s not my name either, is it…”
He smelled like fire, smoke, and leather.
***
“You’re Savage Jack. Everyone here knows that…”
But that’s not what you call me. And you know it. Savage’s eyes flashed gold in annoyance at her tone.
“Who’s Savage Jack?” One newcomer from a corner table.
“You’re in my guild and you don’t know who I am?” Savage’s gaze flicked warningly to the little man.
That stranger didn’t at all like the sight of Savage’s glowing eyes. He hushed. As most with a glimmer of intelligence did when Savage set those vicious eyes on them.
“Why are you here?” She enunciated through gritted teeth.
“For the ale.” He lifted his tankard meaningfully. Already taking in the sweet scent of her as his voice dropped. “And for you.”
“I told you not to come back.”
“Ha! I’ve stayed away long enough.” He smirked. “I left what I built to give you, your space. You’ve had enough time.”
“You know I meant it.” Her blue eyes narrowed on him.
“As I’ve said,” He lifted his tankard in salute. “You’ve said many things over the years.” He announced it loud enough everyone heard. He turned from her to face the barmaid, the blonde that’d hung on him all eve, serving behind the counter. Lifting the mug to declare he needed another.
“Don’t give him one!” Dimurah ordered. Shooting the maid a black look. “He’s not welcome here.”
“I let you command many things, Murah, but not whether or not I’m permitted in my own guild.”
She stuck out her chin obstinately. “Go.”
“You’re going to challenge me?” He gave her a sideways study. Tone bored.
“Here?” He quirked a derisive brow. “You don’t want to do that here.” Tsking as his lips tightened.
He unraveled from behind the counter to descend on her behind it. “I’ll win. I always do…Then you’re upset. As you often are. Is that really how you want tonight to go?”
“You’ve had enough drink. In an alehouse I told you not to return to. In a guild I warned you away from.”
“Come now, Murah. Be honest with yourself. That’s not what you’d hoped I’d stay away from.
His look was shrewd. Blue eyes cutting her, starting with her toes and dragging up her length to the pulled down hood. “Remember, I’m the one that knows what’s you keep so carefully guarded beneath that oversized green cloak.”Giving her his back he strode around to the otherside and leaned on a stool to resume his drink.“Don’t make me call my men to remove you.” She warned.From the corner of her eye, Dimurah caught the barmaid, Belline, filling his drink. Thinking Dimurah wasn’t looking.“You know better than to threaten me…You’re going to regret ever saying that.” His blue gaze slitted.“I will summon them!”“Why?” He twisted to give the four of them a bored glance. “Do you wish me to kill them? Remember,” He lifted a finger, tsking again. “exactly how much you missed the last ones.”“There’s too many. Even for you.” She said acidly.“I don’t know how many that is. So you most certainly don’t...” He took a heavy dram from his newly filled tankard. Dismissing her.Belline, the barm
A few assassins in the crowd made awed sounds at the sight of her. Having never realized what she kept hidden under that hood.She expostulated in enraged profanity.He chuckled. Lazily jerking the dagger upward, to remove it from her throat. He released her and she hastily stepped from the warmth of his arms to turn a glowering gaze on him.“Barmaid! Bird leg!” He slapped the counter with a wolfish smile.Belline curtsied like he was some manner of king and backed from him to fetch the food.“This is my alehouse!”“You barter here. You own shares. But you don’t own the guild.” He corrected, taking another drink. Ignoring her ranting next to him. “Calm down, Murah.” He said from the corner of his mouth. “You still have all that mud hiding your face. They can’t see you.”She gave him a withering look. “Give me back my blade!”He still held it folded between his palm and mug. He set his drink down and expertly rotated it in his hand to stab it into the surface of the bar. The handle swu
“Why! Why’d he do it?” The girl’s gaze landed on the dead man in the middle of Winter Haven floor. She gasped in horror.Dimurah was staring at him, fists clench and jaw jutting.His unflinching gaze was levelled on her as he enunciated the words. “Because you’re mine. Everyone knows it. And no one interferes in my business or they die.”The crowd hushed. No one moved to intercede. And it’d be a long time until someone does again.“I’ll never be yours!” She screamed. But her eyes were fearful.***He laughed uproariously. Tossing back his head in a show of boldness as he nearly reached the door with her before him. “He brought me a blade. What did he expect?” He looked around the room. Nodding arrogantly. “What’s my policy, men?”They began to chant. “Have a man come at me with a dagger and I shall have a dagger. Have him attack me with a sword and I shall pierce him with a sword. Have him shackle me and I’ll crush his throat with those shackles.I’m an exceptional killer. I’ll kill m
He kissed her hard and deep.She shoved him back and slapped him hard.Making him toss his head back. Roaring with laughter like some dark demon.When his head fell forward. His eyes shined in slivers of moonlight. “Strike me viper. But it’s only yourself, you’re poisoning.”She twisted against his grip.But he backed her up through the mud. Walking through rain which now dumped wildly in the Courtyard. Making it hard to see beyond a few feet in the darkness of the night.In the dark of my Fortress. Savage was grateful for it now as his gaze was locked on his pretty prey.“Where do you think you’re going, Murah.”“Let me go!”“You had the chance years ago.” He whispered to her. “It’s too late for all that bluster now.”Finally, he saw the silhouette of a tree in the dark and guided her back against it.She grunted as she made contact. Giving him a venomous look.“Don’t touch me, Jax.”“Ah, now I’m Jax again, am I?” He crooned. Still holding her upper arms as his blue eyes roved her fa
Blue Lark Guild, Dread HideoutA woman entered the Blue Lark looking to hire an assassin.She’d passed the tower guards, passed the Courtyard Guards, and made it right in the front door of his fortress, and straight into the Winter Haven Alehouse for just that purpose.But Savage Jaxson saw her clearly for what she was. Royalty. His study zeroed in on her from across the room. Watching the way, she swept her cape and how carefully she stepped over a spilled drink.He glimpsed her hand as she gripped the hem of her cape. Not old. Not young. He caught a wisping curl of hair moving beyond the hood as she breathed.Dark brown. Female. Middle-aged royalty. In the Blue Lark to hire an assassin.He drew closer, watching her profile peer from under the red hood. Spotting a particularly weaselly man across the room.The Death Dealer. Though he didn’t look like much, he was a skilled killer. Not particular in whether he murdered women or children.“What are you looking at?” Dimurah whispered ov
She gasped in outrage. Slowly turning to see his unabashed grin. She tossed the pitcher at him.He casually deflected it with a forearm. Laughing uproariously as it sloshed another of the barmaids.“You unbelievable wretch!” Dimurah quaked with rage.“Tent it is!”The crowd in Winter Haven roared in approval.“You’ll have to be quiet this time! No rousing the courtyard again.” He waved a finger in cautioning.“You heathen! That’s not true!” She nearly shook with rage. Making her blue eyes glimmer.“You take it back!” She rushed over to order.“Clearly. As you wish. I take it back!” He announced. “It’s not true. It wasn’t the whole courtyard!” He laughed raucously. Dodging the tankard, she tried to splash on him next. Moving smoothly from its trajectory so is slopped harmlessly over the boards onto the floor.“Contain your fire!” He shouted laughingly. Tone softening, he ensured it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. “Save it for later.” He let the innuendo fill the alehouse.“
The following morning, Dimurah was unsurprised when Nauvree sighed and took a seat at the counter. Eying her over it until she finally slammed down her rag and gave him a disparaging look.“What?”“When are you just going to give in to him?” Nauvree asked Murah.She looked up from wiping a tankard out with a bit of cloth. Setting it along the bar for later tonight. “What do you mean?”“You know very well, what I mean.” He eyed her over his tankard. “You two have been engaged in the longest running segment of foreplay I’ve ever witnessed. And I’ve had some time to witness many things…”She admired this man. With his short cropped blonde hair and alert blue-green eyes, he was good-looking. Though easily as dangerous as any other man in the Blue Lark Guild, he and his friend, had some sordid code of honor that made them truer than most. Such as Savage Jack, for instance.“Everyone knows full well, I don’t dally with clientele.”“We’re all your clientele.” He argued.She gave him a pointe
You should wince. Savage thought. I caught you talking about me for all to hear.You intend to try to evade me? Good luck.Grimacing, Murah slowly turned toward the hooded figure in the corner, whom they’d assumed was half asleep over an empty tankard.Me.“Sorry.” Adrea winced. Ducking low to stay behind the bar, she crept around the corner and vanished under the stairs.Hiding from me. Sharp girl.“Coward.” Murah hissed after her.You’re merely envious you’d not make it as far as she did. He rose, making the fabric of his long cloak whisper as he walked to the counter.“Would you just go away?”No.“To your hut?” He offered. Lifting a hand to knock a hood back. Making the wood beads clink in the twisted strands of his light blonde hair.“Have I expressed how much I hate when you’re here?”You don’t. You hate that I’m in control when I’m here.“You mean like a parent. Seeing what you’ve been up to in my absence and cleaning up whatever childish messes you’ve made without my approval?