I rolled my eyes, groaning. “You’re being too damn overprotective.”
“I am protecting my mate,” Charick insisted.
“A mate that was and still is a soldier,” I shot back. “A solider that killed the Zarpazian I might add.”
“Now, children,” Adtovar groaned, his voice dripping with parental frustration.
On the other side of the room, Zahavi puttered about the cabinet, trying to avoid being drawn into the melee.
“Will you tell her how risky this idea of hers is?” Charick demanded.
“I agree. It’s risky,” Adtovar conceded. I was just about to call him a turncoat when he added, “But I think it’s a good idea.”
“What?” Charick grated, his expression darkening at my smug grin.
“Having Nansar search for the Zarpazian won’t do anyone any good, and you know that,” Adtovar said pointedly to my mate, drawing a grunt of acquiescence from Charick.
“And if he thinks Vreses is gone, what’s stopping Nansar from bringing in another assassin?” I added drawing another reluctant grunt from Charick. “But if he thinks Vreses has succeeded, it might buy us time to escape. Or at least find out how Nansar plans to kill the Duke and figure out a way to stop it.”
“She’s right,” Adtovar agreed, drawing a scowl from Charick and a smile from me.
“And you think Nansar won’t know the difference between Willa and the shapeshifter?” Charick challenged, his arm slipping around my waist to draw me close.
“I met one once.”
Zahavi said the words so quietly that it took us all a minute to realize he’d spoken.
“And you lived to tell about it?” Adtovar asked with a quirk of his brow as Zahavi approached the bed.
“It was on Kerus Prime,” Zahavi said, and his yellow cheeks seemed to darken.
“Kerus Prime is a pleasure planet,” Charick murmured. His fingers gave my ass a delicious squeeze in punctuation.
“He was there celebrating a successful job, not paying much attention to anything other than his food and drink,” Zahavi explained with a shrug.
“What was he like?” I pushed the question off my tongue, although dreading the answer.
“Different.” A shiver traveled across Zahavi’s broad shoulders. “To pass yourself off as a Zarpazian, you must appear to be cold, emotionless, and bloodthirsty. Don’t touch anyone and don’t let anyone touch you. The warmth of your skin is a dead giveaway. Zarpazians are notoriously cold-blooded.”
“Piece of cake,” I said without mentioning that humans could be notoriously cold-blooded as well.
“Do you think Nansar knows Vreses killed Malakal?” Charick asked, a flash of regret crossing his golden eyes. The Aljani guard had only wanted to help us... and look where it got him. My heart gave a squeeze of regret.
“Probably, but if not, Willa should own the kill. It shows the pattern of how Vreses got to her. First Malakal, then you, then her.” Adtovar suggested.
I followed his pattern of logic, then froze. “Wait a minute. Are you suggesting I let Nansar think Charick is dead?”
“Yes.” Adtovar grinned at what felt like utter horror crossing my face. “You both were missing from training and the dining hall today. We can explain your absence, especially if Nansar thinks you’re the Zarpazian. Charick’s absence, not so much.”
I let my fingers trail over the bandage on Charick’s arm, forcing down a shiver as my mate took in the idea, pondering.
“Nansar thinking I’m dead, might give us an edge,” My mate said at last, then pressed his lips to my cheek in a feather kiss as he noticed my discomfort.
I drew in a deep breath, meeting his gaze. Nansar had taken his best shot, and we survived. Now it was time to take the offensive.
“So, I go see Nansar, convince him Charick’s dead, I’m the Zarpazian in disguise, and try to get the deets on his father’s assassination.” The laugh that bubbled from my lips was more one of relief than worry. “Believe it or not, my time as a soldier trained me for missions like this.”
“How so?” Zahavi propped by the end of the bed, his eyes alight with curiosity.
