Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

Tyrone advanced toward her, stopping midway down the table where a bowl of fruit served as centerpiece. He removed a blood orange and tore it open so that the crimson juice spilled down and pooled on the table. He took a bite of the fruit, but his eyes never left her face.

  Then he gave a greedy laugh. “I look forward to tomorrow.”

  Valli raised his finger again, and when Calista appeared, he murmured. “Escort the princess back to her room.”

  TEN

  Levi fell in behind Isabelle, who, he was impressed to see, strode from the room on steady feet, though her face had blanched white and he feared she was about to pass out. He kept close behind her in case he had to catch her as they ascended the two flights of stairs to their suite. The moment the door closed behind them, Isabelle crumpled into his arms, silent sobs coursing up through her as he held her securely and leaned back against the wall.

  Finally the tremors shuddering through her stilled somewhat, and she pressed her lips near his ear. “I can’t,” she whispered, her words nearly silent. “I can’t.”

  Levi understood. Valli and Spiteri were punishing her, trapping her and enjoying every second of their game. The two evil men clearly didn’t see any way they could lose this time.

  Isabelle gulped another stifled breath. “We shouldn’t have come. Call your brother. Get us out of here. There is nothing I can do here to help my family. I’m only making things worse.”

  As her distraught words rose in pitch, Levi feared she might be overheard if the room was bugged. And he was more certain than ever that the room was, indeed, bugged.

  His forehead followed hers until he could speak directly into her ear. “I have something.”

  She pulled back, and he watched her swallow another sob as her eyes met his, round with fear and red-rimmed.

  His hand found hers and he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, then tugged her toward the bathroom, pausing to switch on the television as he passed the remote. With the volume cranked up high, the added noise might help to drown out their whispers, but he wouldn’t trust in that precaution alone. For all he knew, the room might hold hidden cameras in addition to bugs, but the bathroom was less likely to be bugged. Or so he hoped.

  Guiding her after him, he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed after them. Then he ran his fingers along the acrylic walls of the shower surround and up onto the plaster above, feeling for anything that might contain a hidden electronic recording or transmitting device.

  Finally he inspected the shower head, unscrewing the nozzle. A trickle of water, probably left behind when the shower was used by the last guest, dribbled out.

  Satisfied there was no hidden camera inside the fixture, he replaced the showerhead, but nonetheless kept his voice in a low whisper, using his body to shield the key from view as he pulled it from his pocket.

  Isabelle bent close to him, questions clear on her face.

  “Sergio slipped it to me while we were standing guard over the dining room.” For the first time he was able to look at the thing, and he noticed tiny figures had been inscribed on the flat metal handle.

  CV66O9C3

  The letters and numbers had been written in with a fine-point pen, though he doubted the inscription was permanent. They would surely rub off from use in a short time. He quickly committed them to memory, even while he pondered what they might mean.

  “Eight digits,” Isabelle murmured, her voice nearly silent. “A combination of letters and numbers.” She met his eyes. “It’s a password.”

  “But to what?”

  “Did Sergio say anything? Gesture in any way?”

  “I hardly realized he’d moved toward me. He was clearly trying to go unnoticed.”

  Isabelle gave the key a studied look, turning it over. There were no markings on the other side. “Can we trust him? Or is it a trap?”

  Levi wished he knew the answer. For a brief moment, when Valli had made the claim about being pawns, Levi had almost entertained the idea that the man might not be in league with those who’d attacked the royal family. But when Valli had brought in that beast Tyrone Spiteri, Levi had been convinced that such a ruthless plan could only be orchestrated by someone whose heart held no goodwill.

  “How can it be a trap?” He closed her fingers over the key, signaling he wanted her to keep it. “We don’t even know what it’s for.”

  “I would suggest that we try to feel out where Sergio stands, but there isn’t time.” Isabelle’s words were practically silent, but Levi had learned to read her lovely lips. “We came here in hopes of finding some evidence against Valli. Perhaps God has provided us a way, through Sergio.” She took a breath, and he could almost see her courage return. “Perhaps we should not run away quite yet.”

  He nodded his agreement. “Tonight when the lights are off we’ll try the key in every door we can find.”

  She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him, the frantic fear he’d seen in her eyes earlier now replaced by warmth. Affection.

  They were too close. The scent of her hair, the light cinnamon sweetness of the baklava she’d tasted, the warmth of her slender form against him were all overwhelming. He needed to put some distance between them.

  And yet, how could he push her away? She’d been through too many terrors of late.

  Her words were almost silent. “What about the password?”

  Levi had to stop and think, to disentangle himself from his feelings for her. He had to remain objective, focused on their mission. What had she asked about? The password. “I can only hope we’ll know how to use it when the time comes.”

  Isabelle peeled back the curtains that looked out on the courtyard garden between the chancery proper and Valli’s residence. Lights that had glimmered in windows an hour before no longer shined. Levi had already scoped out the grounds. There were security cameras in the parking lot and courtyard, and dozens up and down the embassy hallways. But, as Levi pointed out in muted whispers, no one had stopped him as he’d passed up and down the halls scouting out the premises. They were guests. They had every right to be in the hallway. And with so many cameras, the odds were good security personnel didn’t monitor every view at every moment. As long as they stuck to the shadows, they could avoid being seen. When they had to be in the open, they could pray no one was looking or that their presence wouldn’t raise any alarms.

  Smoothing down her black sweater over her black pants, Isabelle wished she could so easily squash the anxious churning in her stomach. She and Levi were already surrounded by their enemies. If they were caught in the act of investigating, there might be no escape. Levi had called his brother, Joe, who headed up their backup team. If Joe didn’t receive a text from them by midnight assuring him everything was fine, he and his men would move in.

  But so much could happen before midnight. Isabelle wondered if she was foolish to attempt to use the key and the password. She knew they were risking their lives.

  But she also knew she had no choice, not if she expected to keep Valli from taking the throne. Once rule passed from her father, he couldn’t reclaim the throne, even if he was still alive. Besides, Valli was corrupt to the core. There was more at stake than just the lives of her family members. Isabelle didn’t want to imagine what would become of her country with Stephanos Valli as king.

  Levi joined her beside the window, questions in his eyes.

  With their room already in darkness, Isabelle didn’t have to fear giving themselves away as she peeked the curtains open so that Levi could see for himself the dark windows across the courtyard.

  The way was clear. They could proceed.

  What little part of that evening she hadn’t spent in fitful rest, Isabelle had committed to constant prayer. God had always protected the nation of Lydia, even through awful assaults before. She clung to the faith that He would be with them now.

  Levi took both her hands and pressed his forehead to hers. She could feel the prayers radiating off him, though his lips did not move and he
made no sound. Still, she knew they were united in purpose. Had she not been on the verge of nausea over what they were about to attempt, she might have given in to the affection she felt for him and the intimacy of the moment they shared.

  Instead she took a deep breath and looked into his familiar eyes, which appeared gray in the darkness. She knew him well enough by now she didn’t need light to see. She felt as though she knew him by heart and thanked God he was with her, certain she couldn’t pull off their plan without his help. Levi was a gift. He was the only reason she was still alive.

  As she had earlier when he’d shown her the key, she pulled her thoughts away from the distraction of her feelings for him. Now was not the time to explore how they felt about one another. Far, far too much was at risk.

  Isabelle watched through the peephole in the door to their suite until the patrolling guards had passed well by. Then she slipped out the latex gloves Levi had brought from New York. He’d thoughtfully packed a kit of anything he’d thought she might need, including a flash drive for gathering evidence. They slipped into the hallway, closing the unlocked door behind them. Isabelle fingered the pocket on her slacks for the flash drive and cell phone she’d placed there. Both could prove to be invaluable.

  As they’d already discussed in muted whispers, the two of them made their way silently down the stairs to the first floor. The chancery and ambassador’s residence were only connected on the first floor, and the two intended to try the Embassy offices first. It seemed the most likely place to find evidence against Valli and the least likely place to be caught.

  They kept to the shadows. Between draperies and pillars holding artwork and deep doorways set in thick stone walls, there were plenty of places for them to duck out of sight and listen whenever the slightest glint of light gave them cause to fear for their safety.

  Once in the wide-open foyer of the Embassy, where they’d nearly been captured two days before, they held back in the lee of the wide staircase.

  Fluorescent white streetlight shone in through the narrow windows in the doors and through the round window above them, spilling in an oblong puddle across the floor. It highlighted Levi’s sharp features as Isabelle met his eyes, waiting. They both knew the next step—up the staircase to Valli’s office.

  The move would force them into the open.

  The farther they went from their suite, the less opportunity they had of effectively using the excuse that they’d gotten lost, though there was little reason for anyone to believe they would need to leave their suite with its well-stocked kitchenette in the first place.

  If they were caught, they would be in grave danger. It was that simple.

  But if they failed to keep Valli from claiming the throne, whatever danger her family might currently be facing would only get that much worse.

  Bolstered by that knowledge, Isabelle twitched a tiny nod at Levi, and they tiptoed hand-in-hand up the marble stairs.

  Isabelle recalled from her visits three years before that the grand double doors at the top of the stairs marked the entrance to Valli’s office. Light filtered into the hallway through a row of second-floor windows, through the open air of the high-ceilinged foyer, exposing their shadows. Isabelle jabbed the key in the lock and choked in shock when it slid straight in.

  Her heart paused in its beating as she gave the handle a turn and it slid smoothly open.

  That was easy.

  Too easy?

  Levi gave a nod and, as planned, stepped back behind the leafy expanse of a potted palm just beyond the doorway. He would stand guard, though neither of them had ever articulated precisely what he was to do if their discovery was threatened. Isabelle could only pray it wouldn’t come to that.

  Ducking inside, she found the office much as she remembered it from three years before. Everything was inlaid mahogany, from the bookshelves that lined the walls, to the massive desk that dominated the room, to the stiff leather visitor’s chairs she’d sat in on her previous visits.

  Now she slid into the plush leather seat behind the desk and found it to be of far more comfortable construction. Leave it to Valli to secure comfort for himself while forcing his visitors to sit on stiff chairs.

  With a glance to make sure the window shades and curtains were closed, Isabelle slipped the key back into her pocket, slid out the slender flash drive she’d brought with her and wiggled the mouse of Valli’s computer, glad for the gloves Levi had brought from the United States, which would prevent her from leaving incriminating fingerprints.

  The monitor shimmered to life, revealing a backdrop of the Great Seal of the United States rimmed with block letters identifying the Embassy of the United States of America. Over the belly of the eagle, obscuring the red, white and blue shield, a window requested login information.

  Isabelle hesitated. She wasn’t authorized to tap into the Embassy network. But as she blinked at the glowing screen, it occurred to her that she didn’t have to. Valli’s login ID was already entered, and below it, ten black dots indicated the computer remembered his password.

  Ten dots—two more than were inscribed on the key Sergio had passed to Levi. So that wasn’t the password she’d memorized.

  With a silent prayer she hit enter and came to a page filled with options.

  Which was most likely to yield evidence that Valli had conspired to have her family assassinated? She clicked Mail.

  Again, Valli’s login, but this time, no black dots.

  She entered the memorized figures.

  Incorrect.

  She stared at the screen, disbelieving. The key had worked in the door. Why didn’t the password work?

  Isabelle heard a thump in the hallway and, unsure what else to do, ducked below the desk.

  She listened to the sound of the door opening. Bright lights filled the room.

  Levi wouldn’t be so foolish.

  Isabelle bit her lip. Yup, the excuse that she’d gotten lost in the building was never going to fly now.

  Feet padded across the lush carpet until the shiny black shoes of the Lydian soldier uniform appeared behind the desk chair Isabelle had pulled toward her.

  Sergio?

  The odds were against it, and even if it was him, she didn’t know if she could trust him. Maybe he’d given her the key to Valli’s office just so she could get caught breaking in.

  Besides, if the soldier was on their side, where was Levi?

  Where was Levi?

  Questions rattled her heart so hard Isabelle felt certain the soldier would hear its frantic pounding inside her chest. But an impatient huff later, the shoes pointed back toward the door.

  The lights went out. The door clicked shut.

  Isabelle crouched a moment longer. Had the solider left the room? Solid inlaid mahogany on the side of the desk facing the room blocked any view she might have had in that direction.

  Her thoughts raced. The feet she’d seen were distinctly too small to belong to Levi, even if he’d knocked out a soldier and stolen his uniform, which was preposterous anyway. She could only assume that Levi was gone and she was alone.

  Fine. Her objective hadn’t changed. She needed evidence against Valli and she needed it a week ago. Raising her head cautiously above the level of the desk, Isabelle scanned the dark room for a sign of the soldier.

  Nothing.

  Even the monitor had gone dark.

  Levi awoke in darkness and groaned against the pain that radiated through his skull. Whatever he’d been hit with had not only knocked him cold, but also had left a trail of something sticky on his face, which made it difficult for him to open his eyes.

  Blood?

  He tried to touch the spot but found his hands wouldn’t move more than a few inches in any direction.

  The lingering smell in the pitch-black space was familiar. Sorting the scent from that of his own blood, he worked his head around the throbbing pain to name it.

  The dungeon.

  Yes, he’d smelled that scent two days before when he and
Isabelle had broken in to the Embassy basement. So the chains that cuffed him to the wall were the ancient shackles he’d seen dangling from the stone wall then.

  As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Levi saw a dim glow far off to his right and could just make out the echo of men’s voices laughing. Was someone coming?

  Levi tensed.

  But after several long heartbeats, he realized the light hadn’t changed and the voices had not drawn nearer. So they’d posted a guard on the other side of the door to the dungeon? He wouldn’t let a couple of guards stop him from getting back to Isabelle.

  Groaning, Levi got his feet up under him and lunged forward.

  He felt a smatter of dust fall on the bare skin at the back of his neck.

  The chains were old and rusty. The stones were only held together by centuries-old mortar; he’d chiseled his way through newer two days before.

  Encouraged, he gave another mighty lunge forward, and the shackles dug into his wrists. But as crumbles of dust pattered against the stone floor, Levi felt encouraged. It might not be possible for him to tear the fetters from the old wall, but that wasn’t about to stop him from trying.

  Isabelle was up there. Alone. Undefended.

  He lunged forward again with such force that his body rocked back, and his head landed hard against the stone wall. He waited a moment, wondering if the guards on the other side of the door had heard the racket he was making. But, no, their laughter still rumbled distantly, and he realized that at their distance, the sound of their own voices was enough to muffle whatever noise his chains might be making.

  Sucking in a breath, he lunged forward again. It didn’t matter, really, if escape was possible or not. All that mattered was getting Isabelle out of Lydia alive.

  His father had given him a mission, and he intended to see it through. Another lunge forward left him panting for air. As pain racked through his body, from his throbbing head to his old injuries to the places where the shackles had begun to tear into his wrists, Levi wondered why he cared so much about being the president of Sanctuary International. Was it really worth going through all this?