ZolZan the Barbarian. That’s what most of the Kingsguard soldiers had called her back then. Outside of Berland, female soldiers were rare. Even the giant tribes didn’t send women to war. Which was why Zanna had always stood out as fierce, stunning, and deadly. Of all the blasted missions, she had to be here, now?
He didn’t like it.
Yet he forced his most winsome smile. “ZolZan, heh, hay! It’s been a while, eh?”
“Don’t call me that, you fool,” she snapped. “I’m Anna Tankel here, and if you even try to greet me with a kiss, I’ll stick a dagger in your throat.”
And there she was. He raised his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it, eh? But keep the dagger ready. I’m sure you’ll need it when the next man looks at you wrong.”
“Sit down,” she hissed. “All of you.”
Cole and Mistel flew into their seats, but Kurtz took his time, flipping a chair backward and straddling it. He’d have to bloodvoice Prince Oren and let him know that this was not going to work. At all. No mission could succeed with ZolZan the Barbarian involved.
“The girl will stay with me,” Zanna said.
Suddenly Kurtz wanted to keep Mistel close. “The girl’s name is Mistel. Where do you live, eh?”
Zanna folded her arms across that ample bosom of hers. “None of your business.”
“These are my charges,” Kurtz said. “I need to know where they are at all times.”
Zanna uttered a long sigh. “I have a room at Fat Vandy’s.”
“Really?” Kurtz lit up. “I need to go see the Vandys.” He turned to Mistel. “You’ll like them. They practically raised me.”
Zanna glanced at Mistel. “Don’t hold that against them.”
“Look,” Kurtz said. “I’m in charge here, I am. Better get used to that, eh?”
“I’m not taking orders from you,” Zanna said. “Prince Oren told me Master Tanniyn was in charge. Didn’t mention you at all. Oversight, I’m sure.”
Fire and ash, he’d forgotten the tongue on this woman. “Aye, he is.” Kurtz nodded at Cole to show he wasn’t trying to take the leadership mantle from the lad. “But I’m in charge of the teams’ safety. Won’t nobody argue with you about that, they won’t.”
Zanna’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I’d sooner put my safety in the hands of a blind mule.”
“Suit yourself.” Kurtz winked. “But these hands will be at your service all the same.”
She leaned forward enough to invade his space. “Those hands come anywhere near me, and I’ll have your head on a spike by breakfast.”
He held her gaze. “You’d be pining for me by lunch.”
Zanna groaned at the ceiling. “Typical Kurtz. Charm, grin, and hope the girl likes brown eyes.”
“It’s worked so far.”
“Consider your streak broken,” Zanna said. “I work five nights a week, moonlight shift. I won’t always be able to join you, but I’ll do my best. Which makes one of us.”
Kurtz would be sure to plan all the important tasks when the woman was busy. “Where do you work?” he asked.
“Ice Island. Guard on the female levels.”
It took effort not to spit on the floor. “Well, that explains your charming personality, it does. Let me guess, you’re one of the nice guards, eh?” He leaned toward Cole. “They all say that.”
“You don’t have to like me, Chazir, but you will respect me. I’m here to do a job, same as you.”
Her words lit a flame in Kurtz’s stomach, and the heat curled, slow and thick. Eben’s breath. Of course he found the bossy ones attractive. Of course. It was like some twisted instinct—see a woman who could run him into the ground, immediately wonder what it would be like to kiss her. Not happening.
He threw back a surly reply. “Just what I needed—another warden in my life.”
