Princess in Peril

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “It’s faster than walking. You don’t mind if we—” Levi stopped short of using the word “borrow.” It wasn’t as though they’d be bringing it back. Dom would have to go find it himself.

  “Commandeer my scooter?” Dom’s eyes twinkled with merriment as he finished Levi’s question. He was probably already picturing the two of them trying to putter away to safety. “You’re welcome to it.” Digging out a set of keys, he peeled one from the ring and handed it to Levi. “This way.”

  Isabelle held tight to Levi’s shoulders, peeking behind her at the Lydian soldiers who stood on the far corner. The scooter hummed quietly in the other direction, and the men, busy with their conversation, didn’t even glance their way.

  She had to hand it to Dom. His little bike kept them in stealth mode. Too bad it seemed to struggle so much with the hills.

  “Should I get off and push?” she offered as the bike groaned up a particularly steep hill.

  “Just pray,” Levi murmured.

  When the park came into view, Isabelle felt hopeful that they might actually make it in time. Then she heard the drone of a helicopter and saw a pair of soldiers on the next corner turn their heads to the sky, looking for the source of the sound.

  “You should have told your brother to come by motor scooter. It’s quieter,” Isabelle chided Levi as he parked them in the shadow of a van beside the curb nearest the park.

  Both of them slid off the bike, and Levi tucked the key under the seat as Dom had instructed him. He took her hand. “Those bushes,” he nodded. “Stay low.”

  They darted toward the shrubbery as the helicopter above came into full view.

  Levi kept one hand on her shoulder. “Wait for it. The second they touch down, we’ll make a run for it.”

  Isabelle met his eyes and nodded. The poor guy still had shackles dangling from his arms, and she had yet to ask about the huge stone he was pulling like a ball and chain. She’d have to tease him about it later.

  Assuming they survived.

  The helicopter hovered over the clearing beyond them. Just as its landing skids kissed the grass, Levi gave a nod. “Keep your head down.” They darted toward the opening cabin door.

  For a moment, Isabelle allowed herself to believe they were going to make it.

  Then sod kicked up near her feet, the sounds of the gun drowned out by the whir of the rotors. Isabelle nearly screamed.

  “Up! Up!” Levi screamed, gesturing to the helicopter to take off again.

  Isabelle felt his hands at her waist as he tossed her through the waiting door.

  The landing skids rose from the earth as he continued to shout. “Up! Take her up!”

  “Levi!” Isabelle screamed. The bird was six feet off the ground already and soldiers were closing in.

  If he stayed behind, he’d be dead in ten seconds. It was a wonder he hadn’t been shot already, but the soldiers appeared to be holding their fire. For now.

  “Grab the landing gear!” She leaned out the door after him as though she could pluck him off the ground herself. His words from two days before shot through her mind—his instructions to leave him behind in the alley if he passed out. In a snap, she realized that’s what he was doing: he had every intention of letting them take off without him. He’d secured her safety. He cared nothing about his own.

  Isabelle threw her upper body out the cabin door. Perhaps if Levi thought she was ready to dive out after him, she could convince him to try to get on board. Someone behind her had hold of her legs and was shouting something, not that she could hear over the roar of the rotors.

  Flinging his arm forward, Levi swung that big stone rock in the air and it cleared the landing skid, the weight of the rock carrying the chain after it, wrapping the chain tight around the metal as the whirlybird kicked up in earnest.

  They shot straight into the sky, and whoever had hold of her legs pulled her back inside the cabin.

  Levi dangled below. Isabelle figured they’d have to find a safe place soon to land so he could climb aboard. It would only be a matter of time before those ancient chains gave way. They’d already had their strength tested.

  She panted for breath. The man who’d pulled her in began to slide the door shut.

  “No.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm and peeked out. Levi’s strained expression swept into view as he swung below them like a pendulum. “Can’t you pull him in?”

  “We can’t risk you falling out.” She recognized the man who addressed her as Joe, Levi’s brother, who’d she’d been briefly introduced to before they’d left New York. The brothers shared many features, including their zeal for ensuring her safety.

  “If you don’t want me to fall out, then hurry up and pull him in.” She mustered up as much royal authority as she could infuse into her breathless voice. “Before I have to pull him in myself.”

  Joe gave her one look and must have decided she meant business. He leaned toward the pilot. “Put down on that next island. Get her just above the ground. Levi’s tangled on the skids. We’ll have to untangle him before he can board.”

  A moment later they hovered over smooth sand. Isabelle recognized the island as part of the archipelago that extended from the city of Sardis out into the Mediterranean. The islands were uninhabited, save by the many visitors who sailed out to enjoy the beaches during the warm summer days. But at this hour of night their stretch of white sand was deserted.

  Joe hopped out and, after a few tense moments, Levi’s face appeared. When Joe climbed back aboard a second later, he scowled at his brother.

  “You threatened the safety of the princess.” The younger brother accused, his words falling just short of I’m telling Dad.

  “I threatened my own safety,” Isabelle cut in while Levi caught his breath. “I wasn’t about to leave him behind to get killed.”

  But Levi didn’t seem interested in sorting out who was at fault. “Get us to Rome. We need to be on the next flight to New York.”

  “You got it.” Joe disappeared to join the pilot. There was some radio back and forth, but Isabelle’s attention was on Levi, her hands sweeping over his arms and his face, assessing his injuries.

  “How are your arms? Your wrists look terrible.”

  “Nothing’s broken,” he began to explain, just before Joe poked his head back their way.

  “Are you sure you want to head to New York?”

  Levi stared up at his little brother. “Why not?”

  “They’ve just announced Stephanos Valli is being crowned King of Lydia at ten o’clock in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow morning?” Isabelle asked, aghast.

  “Technically, it’s this morning. The coronation is in less than ten hours.”

  TWELVE

  Levi saw the realization of defeat pass over Isabelle’s features.

  “If Valli is crowned king, my father will be never be able to reclaim the crown.” Her dark brown curls had come loose from her sleek ponytail, and they bounced prettily against her cheekbones.

  “His reign might be deemed invalid,” Levi assured her. “If we could prove he murdered your family.”

  “If Valli is the ruling king, he won’t let his reign be deemed invalid.” She looked at him with aching sorrow in her eyes. “And there’s no way we can stop the coronation now. Parliament has already made clear that Valli is next in line for the throne.”

  “But the evidence you gathered,” Levi hurried to reassure her. “It will prove he conspired to assassinate the king.”

  “Will it?” Tears welled in Isabelle’s eyes. “I hardly had time to translate any of it. I don’t know what those messages contain. Besides, it’s all a moot point. Even if we could prove what Valli did, once he claims the throne, we’ll never be able to take him to court.”

  “Perhaps not in Lydia,” Levi acceded. “But the UN Security Council may be convinced to intervene.” He scooted a little closer to her and laid one hand on hers.

  “Not before ten o’clock this morning. We ca
n’t even get to New York that quickly, let alone get an audience with them. 10:00 a.m. in Lydia is 4:00 a.m. in New York. Everyone will be asleep.”

  “They’re awake in New York now,” Joe stuck his head back toward them, obviously having listened to their conversation. “We’ll have Dad give them a call. If the Security Council issues a warning to the Lydian Parliament, they can delay the coronation. By the time we reach New York, you could have a case ready to bring before the Council.”

  Levi looked at his brother. “The Security Council rarely acts that quickly.”

  “They’ve been watching the situation closely,” Joe assured him. “They know something’s afoot in Lydia. They’d probably appreciate someone letting them in on what it is.”

  Levi sighed, the wheels of his tired mind spinning. He’d have to dictate a formal appeal to the Security Council, explain exactly why they were requesting the coronation be halted. The Council would only agree to intervene if specific criteria were met. Levi was fairly certain he could make a solid case, but it would take time to spell out the specific points.

  Then he’d have to get Isabelle working on decoding the emails. His ninety-one-year-old grandmother couldn’t be expected to do it all herself, especially because she probably didn’t remember much of the old language.

  “Fine.” He looked at his brother pointedly. “I need to talk to Dad. I need a laptop for Isabelle, and I’d like a pair of bolt cutters waiting for me at the Rome airport.” He held up his wrists. “I’m not going to make it through security looking like this.”

  Isabelle watched him with wide eyes. “Do you really think it’s possible?”

  “It just might be—as long as there’s a chance, we’ll do whatever we have to. We’ve been through too much to give up now.”

  “But—” Isabelle shook her head “—it’s the UN Security Council. We can’t just walk in spouting something about coded emails. At the very least we’ll need an expert in international law.”

  Joe laughed and punched his brother in the arm.

  “What’s so funny?” Isabelle looked warily between them.

  Realizing he probably should have told her sooner, Levi explained. “That’s the kind of lawyer I am. I specialize in international law.”

  Isabelle looked up from the computer screen and blinked her weary eyes. It had been a long night already, and they were only a few hours into their flight to New York. She’d hoped to grab a little sleep on the flight, but the messages she’d been working on wouldn’t let her rest. For one thing, she still had many more messages to slog through.

  And for another, she found their contents chilling.

  Tyrone had been planning to do away with her family as far back as four years ago, before he’d even talked Valli into contacting her. His plan then had been to marry her, get rid of the rest of her family and then become king when she was crowned queen.

  He’d realized, of course, that he wouldn’t have any power. Because he wasn’t a descendent of their founding mother Lydia, he’d never hold more than a token title. But he’d already figured a way past that.

  The plan had been for the two of them to have a child together. Their offspring would be a direct descendent and therefore able to reign. But as long as that child remained a minor, they’d need a regent ruling in their stead.

  That was where Tyrone had planned to get his power. Once she’d provided him with a child or two, he’d have her locked in a tower somewhere, or killed off, and then rule in the place of his children.

  With a sick feeling in her stomach, Isabelle realized that was why Tyrone had been so eager to get her into his bed—especially when he’d suspected she wasn’t planning to go through with the wedding. He’d hoped to make an heir, even if he had to take it by force.

  Isabelle shuddered. How Tyrone thought he could sneak an illegitimate child past Parliament she could only imagine, but the man seemed to think himself capable of outsmarting everyone, so she didn’t doubt he’d been confident of getting his way.

  With a sigh, she closed the document containing messages between Tyrone and Valli. There was still more to be translated, but she had more than enough to prove Valli had been conspiring with Tyrone Spiteri to assassinate the royal family.

  Now she needed to catch up on how the generals were involved. There was still much more to their complicated plans, and she didn’t have long to sort it out.

  In the seat beside her, Levi had kept up a steady stream of typing, preparing documents for his father to advance to the Security Council. As she understood it, the Council had called an emergency special session to determine whether to intervene in the Lydian coronation.

  Her heart warmed at the sight of his focused features. The bruises on his face were mellowing, and though they’d managed to remove the thick shackles from his wrists, his lower arms were scuffed and bruised. Typing had to be painful, but he didn’t falter.

  He must have felt her looking at him because he glanced up, his fingers still typing. He looked back at the screen of his laptop, then did a double take and stopped typing. The hint of a smile on his weary face sent her heart skipping.

  “I’m resting my eyes,” she explained.

  “Have you been able to learn anything?”

  “More than I ever wanted to know.” Figuring it would be helpful for his case, Isabelle explained what she’d learned about Tyrone’s plans to rule through royal offspring.

  “He was planning to kill you then and reign in the child’s stead?” Levi shook his head. “He would murder the mother of his own child just to increase his power? That’s so cruel I can hardly fathom it.”

  “I don’t believe Tyrone ever let me see the full extent of his thirst for power, but the glimpses I got were enough to scare me away. He was a ruthless businessman and he hated anything that kept him from getting his way—usually laws meant to protect the innocent. I’m sure he thought if he was king he could change the laws to suit his desires.”

  “And kill anyone who stood in his way.”

  Isabelle rubbed her temples, the whole ugly mess making her head throb. “I need to sort out how the generals were involved. My father trusted them. How could all three of them betray his trust?”

  Levi’s hand covered hers. “I’m afraid your research will show you more than you ever wanted to see of the potential for evil in the human heart.”

  The simple touch of his hand did wonders for her wounded soul. For a moment, she allowed herself to consider the less urgent questions that had plagued her since the ambush of the royal motorcade. “How can anyone be so convinced of their own right to power that they would kill innocent people to get it? What makes them so evil?”

  She thought Levi might brush away her question and tell her to get back to work, but instead he leaned slightly closer, pain simmering in his eyes. “Greed is a powerful force. All of us have the potential to be sucked in. I have seen good leaders brought low when the taste of power became more than they could resist, and they hungered for more and more.”

  “My father is powerful. And he never—”

  Levi’s finger brushed her lips, the slight touch stilling her words. “Your father appointed those three generals. They reported to him.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but the tip of his index finger still rested at her lip, so she remained silent.

  “I don’t know what you will find when you read those messages, but I want you to be aware that it might be something you don’t want to hear. If your father knew his generals could be bought—”

  She shook off Levi’s touch, unable to sit silent any longer. “My father is a good man,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t plot anything against his own family.”

  “I don’t believe he would do anything to hurt you or your siblings. But he may have gotten in over his head.” Levi’s eyes were full of sorrow. “No one is completely good except God alone. The rest of us must wrestle daily between choices of good and evil. I know your father strives to always choose good. But that’s not always pos
sible.”

  Isabelle sucked in a shaky breath. She understood what Levi was getting at. She didn’t like it, but she understood. Her father had been the one to agree to her marriage to Spiteri. She’d only gone along with it because she trusted her father and had naively believed in the promise of love. “He may have had to compromise in the past.”

  “And that compromise may have come back to haunt him.” Levi’s eyes fell on her computer screen, and Isabelle looked there, too. The puzzling combinations of letters streamed on, their hidden messages promising disillusionment. But she needed to know the truth, even if the truth was ugly. It was the only way she could help her family now.

  She offered Levi a slight smile. “Thank you.”

  His head tipped in question.

  “For warning me,” she explained. “And for helping me find the truth in the first place.”

  The stiff navy blue suit jacket covered the injuries on his arms, but there was nothing Levi could do to cover up the damage to his face. He didn’t like facing the UN Security Council looking so rough, but he had little choice. He was exhausted and not nearly as prepared as he would have otherwise insisted on being. But he had an audience, and that was more than he might have wished.

  The Security Council had advised Parliament to postpone the coronation. Parliament had agreed. Now all he had to do was convince the world that this interruption had been worthwhile.

  Stepping out of his private quarters into his office, Levi felt his breath sucked from his lungs at the sight of Isabelle sitting in a chair, waiting for him.

  She wore a simple but well-fitted charcoal-gray skirt suit, with an ivory blouse peeking out from underneath, its fluttery collar adding a slight feminine touch to her otherwise strictly professional ensemble. Shimmery gray hose and black loafers completed the look.

  Her thick hair was parted at the side and combed back into a loose knot, from which several thick curls escaped—he suspected strategically. Her dark eyes captured his, and there was nothing he could do to keep from smiling.

  “Shouldn’t you be resting? You haven’t slept in two days.”