Kingdom Come

by Devi Mara

  “Pospishaty!”

  In one smooth move the men tossed her like a sack of potatoes. She landed on what felt like a metal surface covered by a thin blanket. The impact jarred her shoulder enough to make her grunt in pain. She started to give them a piece of her mind when she caught a familiar scent.

  She jerked her head around to try to pinpoint the source.

  “Candace?”

  She heard several more people move into the space and two doors slam. A female cry was cut off abruptly.

  “Candace?” she said louder.

  Something warm rolled into her, smelling of a familiar perfume. The bundle mumbled frantically, nudging her several times. Abby found herself smiling. She nudged back and the bundle mumbled again.

  “Nudge me if you’re okay.” She muttered under her breath.

  After a pause, she felt a gentle nudge against her uninjured side. She mentally sighed in relief. At least the other woman was not injured. The vehicle’s engine turned over after three tries, sounding rough from lack of use or poor maintenance. When it began to roll forward, one of the tires let out a high pitched squeal.

  The sound of the battle paused, as if by magic, before something exploded just outside. The driver hit the gas hard and Abby’s blanket slid across the floor. Losing contact with Candace, she began to struggle violently. The vehicle swerved off the flat surface and down a small hill.

  She felt every single bump, as they barreled through a barrier of some kind and up another hill. The sound of machine gun fire approached quickly. Between one beat and the next, both tires on one side exploded and the vehicle skidded sideways. It struck an embankment hard enough to cause her teeth to clack together, then they were airborne, flipping end over end.

  She slammed into the side of the vehicle and gasped at the sudden flash of agony. After smacking her head against what felt like a bench, she allowed herself to go limp, riding out the chaos. She could feel the others tumbling around with her, hear their shouts of pain and Candace’s screams.

  She lost count of the number of times they flipped before the vehicle finally stilled. For several seconds, the only sound was the ticking of the engine. Then, just beyond that, she heard the approach of another vehicle. It skidded to a stop and voices yelled.

  Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and the voices went silent.

  “Te’salun afla, Caelia?” a voice called, sounding frantic.

  Abby heard a feminine groan, before Candace answered, “Hakej sih co’un!”

  It was the same accent Candace had occasionally fallen into, and combined with the foreign language, it was a musical, flowing sound. Abby shifted painfully and listened to the sound of doors being jerked open and several people scrambling into the vehicle. A few of the soldiers tried to speak and were abruptly silenced.

  “J’ek taf’tur sut pa,” Candace muttered.

  From the sound of her voice, she was being carried from the vehicle. Abby considered calling out to her, but the new people were an unknown. They could be as crazy as the soldiers.

  “Tus’gi si’ler, Abigaia.”

  Abby tensed at the words. It almost sounded like they were talking about her. She lay perfectly still and listened to two sets of footsteps approach. Just before they reached her, she heard the whistle. The ground exploded just outside the vehicle, sending it rolling.

  Two more missiles fell, before the machine gun fire started. She lay pinned under two bodies, able to do nothing but listen to the yells and screams outside. The bright light flashed a few more times and then an odd whooshing sound. She thought she heard Candace yell something, before it fell silent outside and the doors were yanked open.

  “Abigail Ashley,” a voice growled.

  She only had time to turn her head in that direction, before something struck her temple and the world went dark.

  She woke to the sound of soft jazz. The surface beneath her was soft and padded and she could feel satin against her skin. She froze. Her bare skin. Her eyes flew open and she threw herself off the comfortable bed, banging her knees on the floor as she crouched behind it.

  It took her several seconds to realize she was breathing deeply. She slowly looked down at herself. The brace on her wrist was absent along with the bruises that had mottled her skin. She gingerly twisted her arm, waiting to feel the sharp pain. It did not come.

  “How?”

  Her hands flew to her rib cage, poking her side harder than she would usually have dared. Nothing shifted and the agony was gone. She sat down heavily. It was impossible. Hand still pressed to her healed ribs, she forced herself to stand and examine the room.

  On first glance, it looked like the bedroom of an expensive house. But the layout was not quite right. She wandered around the room, lingering on the crystal bottles on the side table and sniffing the roses. She had to admit it was a nice room. The soft white duvet matched the chair in the corner and the metallic gray fabric on the headboard was reflected in all the silver accents.

  As nice as it was, she wanted out. She hurried over to the closest door and opened it a crack. A bathroom. She started to turn away from the lavish room and paused. Pursing her lips, she wandered toward the large, gilded mirror. Ignoring the shining marble surfaces, she focused on her reflection.

  The bruises were gone. She quickly untied the robe and opened it enough to look at herself. Not a single scratch, bruise, or scrape remained and she was completely clean. Someone had stripped her and bathed her. She set her jaw and jerked her robe closed. She would deal with them later.

  She pulled open the top drawer in the marble vanity and smirked. An old fashioned shaving razor sat on a piece of silk. She grabbed it and flipped it open. The sharp edge gleamed in the soft, bathroom light. Still smiling, she turned to the door and froze.

  Caern stood in the doorway watching her, a small smile on his face. He cocked his head to the side.

  “What are you up to?”

  It was too late to hide the razor, so she palmed it and stared at him defiantly. “Leaving.”

  His smile widened. “Really?” He took a step into the room and gestured for her to go. “Let us just see, hmm?”

  She scowled and walked past him. As soon as she reached the door of the bedroom, she saw the issue. The door lead right into the living space. Over a dozen Dorn guards turned to look at her. She gave them a fake smile and immediately backed into the room. She would have far more luck with one.

  As if her thoughts had summoned him, Caern casually strolled out of the bathroom and sat in the only chair. He gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed facing him. She huffed. Not going to happen.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked, pointing to a bowl of fruit he had apparently brought with him.

  “So you can poison me? No.”

  He laughed. “Why would I poison you? I just went through all the trouble to get you back from those unsavory characters.”

  She frowned. So, he had sent someone for her. “Why?”

  He raised a strawberry to his lips and she watched with disgusted fascination, as his tongue snaked out to pull it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, watching her all the while. When he finished, his lipless mouth curved into a smile.

  “You are very valuable, Miss Ashley.”

  “I’m not going to let you use me against Edric.”

  He looked at her for a moment, before he threw his head back and laughed. “Edric?”

  Abby scowled. She was obviously missing something. “How did you heal me?”

  His laughter finally faded to chuckles. “Contrary to Edric’s beliefs, not everything is about him.”

  “Answer the question.”

  His eyes flashed at her demand, but he continued to smile. “I am amused how little you know.”

  “What’s that supposed—”

  “For example,” he cut her off, “You know next to nothing about Prince Edric. You don’t know the sordid history of his people or what he has done in his past.”

  She glared a
t him silently.

  “Did he tell you he fought in a few of your wars? Fighting for the side that furthered his agenda.” He leaned forward to look her in the eye. “It was not yours.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “And?”

  He smiled, baring his teeth. “Does that not bother you? That he could change his mind, switch sides, and decide that you are not worth his time? After all, where is he now? Was it Prince Edric who retrieved you?”

  His words were poison, but a part of her was listening. Edric had not come for her. If the Dorn knew where she was, surely he had to know. No. He would have come for her if he knew. She could feel it. He was looking for her. She narrowed her eyes at Caern.

  “What are you getting out of this?”

  Amusement filled his face. “What am I getting?” He huffed. “You have helped me start a war, Miss Ashley.”

  “I haven’t helped you do anything,” she growled.

  He waved her off. “Perhaps, not voluntarily.”

  “You’re psychotic. And what have you done with Candace?”

  Again, she saw the flicker of amusement. “The woman you were living with.” He shrugged. “She was absent when my soldiers retrieved you.”

  Abby frowned, thinking of the voices speaking to Candace. “So, who were they firing at?”

  “Russian troops. Apparently, someone called in a favor.” That it was Edric went unspoken. She supposed he could not admit that his early comments were lies.

  She smirked at him. “Someone.”

  Caern gave her a dark smile. “When he finds out all there is to know about you, he will leave. He will go and he will never come back.”

  She mentally flinched, but held onto her smile. “I’m sure you think that.” He had to be wrong.

  He stared at her long enough that she shifted uneasily, then he smiled. “By the way, your image looks very pleasing in my chambers.”

  She gave him a blank look. “What?” He must mean her photograph.

  “The one I took from your quarters.” He leaned back in his chair. “Very pleasing indeed.” He just laughed, as she launched herself at him.

  …

  The lawn of the White House was brightly lit, making their approach clear to any who cared to look. Edric led his guards straight to the south door. Two Secret Service agents stood just inside the entryway. They appeared relaxed until Desta fired the arrow. The first agent went down silently.

  The second had a split second to grab for his gun, before he joined his comrade. Edric nodded over his shoulder to Desta and gestured for her to take point. They pushed forward through the White House, avoiding as many agents as possible and neutralizing the rest.

  He was still down the hall of the residence when a woman screamed. Leaving Konani and Limek to stand guard, he stalked into the bedchamber and glanced around. The president and a woman he assumed was the man’s wife lay on the large bed. The woman stared at him with wide eyes, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders. As if had any interest in looking upon her.

  He turned his attention to the president.

  “I was going to contact you,” the man said in a shaky voice.

  Edric smiled coldly. “Were you?”

  “Yes. We received news about Miss Ashley.”

  Edric moved toward him. “Tell me.” He ignored the man’s cowering wife and loomed over his side of the bed. “What do you know?”

  The president cleared his throat. “She was taken by a terrorist group—”

  “I already know that,” Edric interrupted. “Tell me something I do not already know!”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” The man licked his lips nervously, glancing around as if he expected reinforcements. “One of the Russian border patrols attacked their base several hours ago.”

  Edric frowned. He already knew Russia was going to take action, but it was sheer idiocy to engage those who held Abby. She could be injured. He found himself growling under his breath.

  “And were they successful? Where is she?”

  “They, uh, they were not.” The president winced, as Edric slammed his fist into the headboard.

  “Where is she?” he snarled.

  “I don’t know—“

  “Lies! If you think I will not kill you in front of your mate, you are incorrect.”

  The man blanched. “I don’t know where she is! I would tell you if I knew. All I know is a group of the Ukrainians left the compound with her and their van was found lying on its side about a mile away. That’s it. That’s all I know. Ms. Johnson and Miss Ashley were gone. There were only the five bodies.”

  Edric started to question him, when a bang came from the hallway.

  “We are being overwhelmed, Your Highness,” Limek called down the hall.

  Edric gestured for Desta and Roshan to join them. She gave the president a hateful look before she bowed out of the room. The yelling increased in volume, gunfire joining the barrage of sound. Voski and Nitya slipped out of the room to join the fray, leaving him alone with the president and his wife.

  “If I do not get my mate back, I will consider it an act of war.”

  The president’s gaze moved from the door to his. “Who says this is not an act of war?”

  The emergence of his soldiers had obviously given the man a new influx of courage. Edric lips curled.

  “When I declare war, you will know it.”

  He started to turn away when a bullet tore into his arm, slipping between the plates of his armor. He snarled and spun to face his attacker and his eyes narrowed. Jackson stood just inside the doorway, gun still aimed at him. He wore a pleased smile.

  “Your Majesty,” he sneered. “You thought seven of you could take the White House?”

  Edric heard Desta shout from the hallway and the sound of breaking glass. Seconds later, a flash grenade filled the space with blinding light.

  “Sounds like your guards are having a little trouble, Highness. Not the best of the best, huh?”

  He bared his teeth. “Yes.”

  “Stop this. Let us get you medical attention,” the president finally spoke up. Edric turned his head to watch the man climb from bed and throw on a robe over his pajamas. “Surely, it’s not worth all this.”

  Edric narrowed his eyes. “I assume you mean Abigail Ashley is not worth all this?”

  The president did not answer, his gaze flicking to Jackson.

  “It’s difficult to believe you are capable of caring about someone. If even half the things in your file are true…” Jackson sneered. “Well, maybe Abigail is better off where she is.”

  Edric took two steps toward him, before the gun discharged. He grunted in pain, as the bullet hit his other shoulder, but he continued forward.

  “Who told you about me? Where did you get your information?”

  Another bullet caught his leg and he staggered, falling to one knee.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Jackson said cryptically. “Maybe, if you were more forthcoming with tech, we would be more forthcoming with information. You’ve been pretty stingy from the beginning.”

  The president and his wife slipped out of the room and Edric suddenly realized the hallway had fallen silent. He looked past Jackson to see a wall of Secret Service agents.

  “What have you done with my guards?” he demanded, climbing to his feet.

  Jackson eyed his healing wounds, a greedy gleam in his eye. “They left. Went running like dogs with their tails between their legs.” He shifted his weight and an ugly smile curved his lips. “I guess your little pet isn’t such a priority to them.”

  Edric smiled to himself. The human was so interested in his own voice, he had not realized his gun was off target. Edric lunged. Jackson’s head fit between his hands perfectly and the squeal he let out just before he snapped his neck brought a cold smile to his face. He barely felt the bullets hit him.

  An hour later, he sat in an empty cell, staring at the wall and thinking of Abby. The satisfaction he felt at killing Jackson had faded wi
th the adrenalin. He was pleased the man was dead, but it moved him no closer to getting Abby back. He was where he started.

  The president had given him very little information. Russia had failed to get her back. He knew that, now. Aside from that, he was at a loss. His first inclination was to blame the president for not giving her security, but beyond his anger was a deep well of guilt.

  He had failed her. Even if she did not realize it, her safety was his responsibility. He was not sure how he would handle the disappointment in her eyes. He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. She would never want to bond with him now.

  As the darkness of despair began to pull at him, the faint sound of explosions reached his ears. He slowly raised his head. It was too soon for his guards to be back with reinforcements. His mother never granted a war request in so little time. It must be the humans preparing.

  The explosions came again, very familiar with a sound like a deep sonic boom. He started to lower his head again, when the door down the hall banged open and he heard running feet.

  “He doesn’t leave, you hear me. I want all of you on that cell. Nobody gets by, you got me? Nobody.” The words were barked by someone out of view, before eight soldiers ran down the hall.

  He noticed none of them looked at him. They clutched at their weapons, standard issue rifles. Nothing compared to the weaponry his people would bring. He leaned back against the wall and waited. The explosions fell silent, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. A moment later, he heard the charge of Desta’s favorite weapon.

  The ceiling above the guards vanished, a ball of fire consuming everything in its path. Before the last of the flames had faded, Desta leapt into the gaping hole she had made. She turned her weapon on the guards and, smiling fiercely, sent a burst of flames at them.

  The fire, close to the temperature on the surface of the sun, left nothing behind. She turned to face him and propped her weapon on her shoulder.

  “Your Majesty. I apologize for the wait.” She scowled. “I was ready to come back with my personal arsenal, but Her Majesty insisted I wait on the military.”

  He barely resisted the urge to smile. “Forgiven. Release me.”

  She pulled a canister from her hip and tipped it over the meal lock. The flash acid ate through the lock without spreading beyond it and she kicked open the door. He strode into the hallway and glanced around. The door at the end of the corridor led to the stairs, he remembered from when they brought him in.