The Lion's Share (The Lion Princes Book 2)

by Leslie Chase

  "Dad, I really don't think I should get you involved in this," Sophie said after a moment.

  "Don't be silly. You've brought whatever it is here, and you're out of the capital before the new king is crowned. That means this is serious, and you need my help with it."

  He was smiling almost smugly, looking pleased that she'd come looking for his help. The time since he'd left his job in the capital hadn't ever sat easily with him, and Sophie could see his willingness to dive back into it. She also knew that he couldn't, not with his heart condition, but he was right about one thing. She had brought this to his door, and it wouldn't be fair to leave him in danger without letting him know about it.

  Her mother looked at her, concern written across her face, and Sophie found the weight of her worries start to overwhelm her.

  "I guess you're right," she said slowly. "You deserve to know what's happening."

  As soon as she started speaking, it all came tumbling out. Praetor's advances, his plans, the meeting with Mattias and her feelings for him. The threats Praetor had made to her family. And her desperate attempt to send a message to Mattias.

  Through it all, her parents listened attentively. Her mother pulled her chair around so that she was close enough to put an arm around her shoulders, and her father sat back with a thoughtful frown on his face, and neither interrupted until she was done pouring out her heart. Then her mother sighed.

  "I was afraid of something like this," she said. "The way your eyes lit up any time Prince Mattias was mentioned was always a worry."

  Sophie blushed. "That's not true," she protested.

  Her father snorted and shook his head. "Oh, dear. Yes, it was, Sophie. It could just have been a crush, but we were afraid that it was fate's hand at work."

  "So that's why you were keen to get me away from the castle?"

  "Can you blame us? Look at what's happening around the royal family! I love the Alexanders, you know that as well as anyone, but they aren't safe — and you won't be safe amongst them."

  Sophie opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn't find fault with his reasoning. After the violence that had hit Prince Roman on his return to Leotania, and now Praetor's attempt to take over the government, it was clear that being near the royal family was a dangerous proposition — and that was forgetting about the murders of the princes’ parents.

  "What about fate?" she asked finally.

  "Let fate take care of itself," her father said promptly. "I'll take care of my little girl."

  She couldn't help smiling at that, and then sighed.

  "Thanks, Dad," she said. "But what are we going to do now? Maybe I should have stayed out of trouble, but I'm right in the middle of it. And so are you, which is all my fault. I'm sorry."

  "It's not your fault," her mother said firmly. "You know better than that. It's Captain Praetor's responsibility, and only his. You aren't to blame when someone threatens you."

  "It doesn't matter who's to blame," Sophie said, refusing to be so easily comforted. "The important thing is that I've gotten you into trouble and I don't know how to get you out of it."

  Her father grinned, looking a lot happier than she expected. "This is the kind of thing that got your mother to make me quit and move out here, Sophie. I told her it wouldn't work. We're too involved in the politics of this damned country to just sit it out."

  "That doesn't mean we have to be in the middle of it," her mother objected. "But here we are, and Sophie's right. How are we going to get out of this?"

  "First things first. We need to spot the people watching us for Captain Praetor, then we can work out what to do about them. Not the two who came with you, they're still in the car outside, but there must be someone out on the hills keeping an eye on the house. Bad heart or not, I won't let these, these assholes threaten our daughter or our country."

  Sophie threw her arms around both of them, feeling her heart lift. Her parents' strength was contagious, and though she didn't think that there was any more hope of successfully defending themselves against Praetor's goons than before, their confidence made her feel a little better about it. At least I've gotten to see them again if worst comes to worst.

  Mattias felt far too conspicuous as he drove through the country roads. His own car was nicely anonymous; the tinted windows would have hidden him from view. But he'd left that with Penelope, and her car was a lot less subtle.

  The wind whipped through his hair as the bright red open-top car raced along. He couldn't fault her choice on power or speed, but subtlety? Penelope's car seemed to be chosen for the lack of that.

  At least if anyone is looking for me, this is the last kind of car they'd expect me to be driving, he thought, trying to ignore his discomfort. This had, after all, been his idea.

  It did also have the advantage of being fast, which Mattias was more than happy to take advantage of. While Sophie and her captors had a head start, the train line wove around a dozen little stations in the mountains and he wasn't stopping for anything. He wasn't going to overtake the train, he knew that, but he could close the lead his enemies had.

  The road to Gerrenbad was little traveled, so he'd passed few people who might recognize him even if they were looking for him. By now Praetor almost certainly knew that he wasn't with Penelope, and that meant that the watchers keeping an eye on the Havener family farm might be watching for him. If he got much closer, the bright red car would definitely stand out on the lonely road.

  Time to ditch the car, he thought as he pulled off the side of the road and climbed out. I just hope it'll be okay here until I get back. I'd hate to repay Penelope by getting her favorite car stolen or wrecked.

  Walking away from the road, he started to strip. Walking up on the farm in human form would be as conspicuous as the red car, but he had another way to get closer. Lions weren't often thought of as stealthy, but a big cat and a predator has to be able to go unseen and Mattias had practiced.

  Naked, he wrapped his clothes in his jacket and tied it up into a ball. Then he let his lion out, shifting and grabbing the bundle of clothing in his mouth. Bounding off into the hills, he began his hunt.

  The feel of his mate was close, now, and with the senses of his lion form he could home in on it. But that wasn't his plan, much as he longed to rush straight to her side. Actually approaching the farm was too likely to get him spotted. No, what he was looking for was something else.

  The scent was clear and easy to find once he was away from the road. Men sitting uncomfortably in a hide on the mountainside left a sour stench of sweat, the chemical smell of a portable toilet, and the smells of food wafting on the air. He followed those smells quietly. Taking his time, he prowled closer, starting to make out voices.

  "—the moment he shows up, Captain," one man said, quiet and urgent. There was an undertone of fear in his voice, and while Mattias couldn't make out the response, it sounded angry. Praetor, he guessed, was not happy with having lost the prince he'd thought was under his thumb.

  "Yes, Captain! Over and out," the soldier finished as Mattias approached the rise. Their little outpost was impressively well camouflaged, he thought — it seemed that the Security Squad put a fair bit of effort into training for this sort of thing. That would have been a warning of its own, had he known it sooner. Why would the royal family's guards need to know how to keep someone under observation like this?

  There were four men, Mattias guessed from the scents. Hard to be sure when they'd been living in such close quarters for at least a week. The smells mixed and mingled, and the men all started to smell alike. He settled down just over the ridge to make sure he knew what was going on.

  "Right, listen up," the one who'd been on the radio to Praetor said. "The Captain says that Target One has slipped his leash and might be on his way here. So Lotz and Felix, keep an extra careful eye on the road and the station. If he shows, we show him who's in charge here. And don't fuck this up — the Captain's already pissed, you don't want to make yourself a target for him."


  "Shouldn't we just terminate the targets? The plan's gone south already," Another voice asked, and Mattias marked that one, keeping his snarl silent.

  "Don't be stupid, Lotz," the commander snapped. "The targets are our only way to control the situation. If we kill them all, it's over. Get it? That's a last resort. If he shows up, we maybe kill one to show that we mean business, but that's all."

  Smart man, Mattias thought. Not smart enough, though. If he was really clever he'd already be running.

  Four men in a tight space. Royal Guards, who trained to fight against shifters, and who might have silver bullets. It wasn't an easy fight, but it would only get harder. If they spread out, the element of surprise would be lost.

  The sounds of movement from the hide forced his hand. He couldn't risk them moving out. Gathering himself, Mattias crouched, tensed, and leaped.

  His pounce took him over the rise and crashing down on the small hidden camp the soldiers had established. It was built to shield them from prying eyes and the weather, not the weight of a full-grown lion smashing down on it from above. Mattias ripped through it without slowing, tearing the camouflage net aside.

  Roaring to announce his arrival, he struck the nearest man full on. The soldier screamed, tumbling back in an arc of crimson as the lion's claws ripped into his flesh. The other three men froze at the sight of the monster in their midst.

  It was only a second before their training kicked in and they began to move. But that was a second too long for Lotz. Mattias turned to him, a swipe of his powerful paw driving him down to the ground, and a snap of his jaws tearing the man's throat out. That's for threatening Sophie, he thought as he watched the soldier grasping at the ruin of his neck, blood spurting. No one threatens my mate and lives.

  Behind him, one of the remaining men drew his pistol. The sound of it clearing its holster was enough warning for Mattias to spin, lashing out with a strike that knocked the gun aside as it fired, the bullet flying wide. He and the man were face to face, inches from each other, and he could see the fear and shock in the soldier's face as he roared again. It wasn't enough to make Mattias have any sympathy for him — these were all men who were supposed to be loyal to him, to his family. Their betrayal left no room for mercy or restraint.

  He caught the man's gun arm between his mighty jaws, and bit down. Bone snapped and crunched and the soldier let out a high-pitched scream that faded out quickly as he fainted. One left.

  That was the commander, and his instinct hadn't been to fight or flee. Instead, he'd grabbed the radio handset and was shouting into it. Part of Mattias had to admire the man's commitment to his mission. In the face of failure, even of his own death, the man was trying to make sure word got to his commander. That's a good soldier, Mattias admitted. A shame he chose to betray my family.

  But he's made his choice.

  Sweeping the man to the ground with one powerful blow, Mattias raised a paw and smashed it down on the man's head. There was an awful crunch of bone splintering and the man spasmed once. Then he was still, and no one moved.

  The radio hissed and clicked and a voice spoke from it. Praetor.

  "Report," Praetor snapped. After an empty pause, he tried again. "What's happening there?"

  Mattias took a deep breath and let his lion withdraw, shifting back into human form with an effort. That fight had been too quick, too unsatisfying for his soul animal, and his enemy's voice made it hard to change back. Every instinct told him to tear Praetor limb from limb, and his lion didn't understand that Praetor wasn't in the room with him.

  "Report!" Praetor's voice snapped again. And then a longer pause, thoughtful.

  "Prince Mattias. Perhaps you're not as weak as I thought you were."

  Mattias grinned, feeling his teeth shrinking back to their normal size as the shift finished. He picked up the handset and growled into it.

  "Praetor," he said. "You have one chance. Run. Run now, and don't stop running. If you leave Leotania right now you might stay ahead of me and keep your head attached to your shoulders."

  Static hissed on the channel for a second before Praetor replied.

  "I have a counter offer. Do as you're told or I will kill your mate in front of your eyes. I know you won't risk Sophie's safety, and even if you've taken out the overwatch team, there are still the men I sent with her to the farmhouse. You are mine, Prince, and I'm going to enjoy putting you in your place."

  Mattias's saw red at the threat, looking out of the front of the hide down into the valley beyond. The small stone farmhouse sat alone in the fields, a car waiting outside it, and his heart pounded. He knew, with unerring certainty, that his mate was there waiting for him. That she was still in danger.

  His hand tightened on the radio handset. "If you do anything to her, Praetor, you'll die screaming."

  There was a laugh on the far end of the line. "Oh, that's entirely in your hands, my prince. Let's make it easy for you, though. You've killed good men of mine, and that costs your beloved Sophie a kneecap. You will surrender, right now, or I will have her shot in the other knee as well. You've had your fun, you've pretended to be a hero, and now that is over. Do you understand me?"

  Mattias could barely contain his rage. The growl that built inside him nearly overwhelmed him, but he held onto enough rational thought to know that there was no way he could make it down to the house before Praetor's order was carried out. He was trapped.

  I can't give up the country to this man. And I can't leave Sophie in his hands. What else can I do?

  The red rushing pulse of blood drowned out all other sound and he felt the heavy plastic case of the radio creak in his grip. Praetor was saying something, something Mattias couldn't hear over his anger.

  But he did hear the sharp crack of the shot that rang out from the valley.

  15

  Sophie and her mother sat huddled around the table, the tea growing cold as they talked. It wasn't a productive conversation, but it helped Sophie feel better to be with family, to be thinking ahead.

  I hope that Mattias got my message, she thought for the hundredth time. She thought that he had, something inside her seemed sure of it, but she didn't trust that not to be wishful thinking. Like the feeling that he was close by. That had to be an illusion, she couldn't let herself think that it was true.

  "I don't see anyone," her father said, stomping back in. "Apart from those two thugs outside in the car, anyway."

  "Your eyesight's not what it used to be, love," Sophie's mother said with a fond smile. "It's a bit much to expect that you'd spot a secret police hideout in ten minutes' searching."

  "We're not meant to have a secret police," he grumbled back, going to the kitchen window and peering up at the hills suspiciously. "The King was always very firm on that point."

  "Maybe so, but it sounds like Captain Praetor didn't listen to that order. Or at least didn't follow it past the King's death."

  "He must have been planning this for longer," Sophie said, biting her lip. "Otherwise he wouldn't have enough men to try this."

  "That's a good point, Sophie," her father said. "And he can't have that many loyal men, either. The more people he told, the more likely it was that the secret would spill before he had a chance to use his plan. So we're probably not up against the whole Security Service."

  Sophie nodded at that. It bore out her earlier thoughts on the drive — if the whole Service was in on the coup, then they wouldn't have to worry about someone noticing them misusing resources. She didn't know how it would help, though. They didn't even know how to deal with whatever small number of them were here in Gerrenbad.

  Before she could say anything more, her father cocked his head to the side, staring intently up the hill. His total focus was enough to keep Sophie and her mother quiet, and after a second he nodded almost to himself.

  "That could have been a hunter, I suppose," he said, turning and walking out of the kitchen into the larder. Sophie and her mother exchanged a glance and then her mother shrugg
ed.

  "There's nothing wrong with your father's hearing," she said. "But I do wish he'd tell us what he's up to."

  She stood as if to follow her husband, but before she could take a step, they heard the car door outside. Footsteps crunched on the path as people approached the house. The thugs are back, Sophie thought, her mouth dry. She didn't know what they'd want with her now, but she was sure it wouldn't be anything good.

  They didn't bother to knock, or even check if the door was unlocked. The weight of one of them sent the door crashing open, and Sophie's mother screamed as the two men hurried inside, pistols drawn.

  "On your knees," one snapped, unmoved by the fact that he was threatening a pair of unarmed women. That was the asshole who hadn't wanted to let her go to the bathroom; it didn't surprise Sophie one bit that he was happy to bully them.

  "Just wait a minute," Sophie protested. "Captain Praetor said—"

  "Now he says get on your knees," the man snarled. His partner shook his head, looking a lot less comfortable about the whole situation. That didn't stop him from keeping his pistol aimed squarely at Sophie's head. She swallowed and lowered herself to her knees. Her mouth was dry and her heart pounded as the bully moved around behind her. She heard the metallic click as he cocked his gun, and couldn't keep in a whimper.

  Is this it? It can't be. The sudden wash of fear carried away all her lesser worries, and it felt like she could think clearly for the first time in days. And all she could think about was Mattias. Why couldn't I have trusted my feelings sooner? We could have at least had more than one evening together.

  The sound of the shot was deafening, and she flinched. To her surprise, there wasn't any pain.

  Someone was shouting, another screaming. For a moment she thought it might be her, but then reality snapped back as another shot boomed loud in the small kitchen. Flinching away from the noise, she realized that the screams were coming from the bullying guard, not from her.