by Milly Taiden
She balked. “Over the wall? As in sneak out?”
“I haven’t spent years growing this bad boy rep for nothing.” He stepped closer, tugging her in tightly. “I want to spend time with you, Riley. Alone. I should have told you that from the beginning instead of trying to play it slick.” His mouth curved up and he inhaled. “You’re tempted. I can smell it as clearly as I smell how much I make your panties wet.” His blue eyes darkened “What have you got to lose?”
She shivered. Lose? Not much. Still, this was so unlike her, then again Jag was unlike anyone else.
“What about Ivy? We can’t leave her here alone with those children,” she argued.
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s give it another hour. I’ll call for Mrs. Abbott to come for the kids, and then we’ll make a break for it.” When she hesitated, he brushed her lips with his. “C’mon, little mouse. Tell me you’re not up for a game of chase with the big bad cat.”
She angled his head, so his lips were perfectly positioned over hers. “Just remember what I told you about little mice and sharp teeth.” She bit his bottom lip and then pulled back, her eyes on his. “Do this right, Jag. I mean it.”
“Ooh, baby.” He grinned. “Promise?”
Adrenaline sent shivers across her skin. With a smirk, Jag turned back to watching the horizon, letting her go inside. Henley was right. Being bad felt pretty good.
Riley slid into a chair across from Ivy. “So, you three been getting to know each other?” she asked.
Ivy eyed her with a knowing look. “I could ask the same of you two,” she said as Jag reentered the room.
“Ivy’s been asking about Mama and Papa,” Lettie replied, munching on half a donut. “Mama’s been gone only a little while, but Papa’s been gone a long time.”
“Lettie—” Kes warned low. “Remember what Mama said.”
Jag scooted to the edge of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s okay, Kes.”
He glanced at the cookie in his hand before looking up again. “We’re not supposed to talk about Papa.”
Ivy rubbed her belly, and both kids looked at the bump with interest. “Why not, sweetheart?”
“Because,” he replied, “the nomad man came one day, and he and Papa talked for a long time. Mama wasn’t happy, but I remember Papa said something about it being the only way.”
“Only way for what?” Jag asked.
The little boy shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Jag shared a look with Ivy but didn’t press.
“Kes,” Ivy began. “I know it’s hard to remember, but if you told us more about this nomad man, maybe we can help find out why your Papa left,” Ivy prompted.
Lettie stood up with the blanket, and a shower of cookie crumbs fell from her soft cotton dress. “Really? You could find Papa?”
“Maybe,” Ivy replied. “You’d have to help us by telling us what you know. Even if you’re scared. I promise, neither you nor Kes will be in trouble. If we found this nomad man, he might know where to find your father.”
Kes hesitated, as if waiting for Jag to nod.
“It’s okay, Kes,” Jag said.
The boy lifted his eyes and they were sad and way too old for one so young. “I don’t remember a lot. Mama kept me and Lettie away.”
“She didn’t trust the nomad man, huh,” Ivy said.
Kes shook his head. “She said he was a bad man, and whenever Papa talked with him, we were not to make a peep. Mama didn’t want him to know we were there. Especially Lettie.”
“But I didn’t listen,” Lettie blurted, her breath hitching in her throat. “Mama said to stay quiet, but I wanted my cat. The nomad man saw me.”
Ivy exchanged looks with the others. “Did he say anything to you?”
The little girl shook her head.
Kes made a face. “I saw him. He smiled. It was mean. He licked his lips and then turned to Papa, telling him this was his lucky day. He said other stuff, but I couldn’t hear. All I know is Papa told him to leave.”
“Did your father work?” Jag asked.
Kes lifted his chin and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “He was a tracker. No one knew the mountains better than Papa. He could hike from the sand oasis to the jungle and back and never get lost.”
Lettie nodded. “And Papa could find anything that got lost.”
“Is that what the nomad man wanted from your dad? Tracking?” Jag asked.
Kes shrugged. “Mama said the man wanted Papa to help him find something. She told us never to talk about it. After that, Papa went with the nomad man. He never came back.”
Jag moved from the couch to kneel on the floor by the blanket. He sat back on his heels and reached for a pastry. Breaking it in half, he gave a piece to Kes. “Do you think you could recognize this nomad man if you met him again?”
The boy bobbed his head, chewing. “He had a gold tooth.” He pointed to one of his canines. “He wore a hood, but he took it off when he thought no one was there. He had no hair on one side, and a bite mark. Like something tried to eat his head.” With his finger, Kes drew tooth marks from his cheek and eye to the side of his skull.
Jag froze with his half of pastry still in his hand. He turned and looked at Ivy, her face pale.
“What?” Riley asked.
“Bors,” Ivy murmured. “But it can’t be.” Her mouth went dry at the name of the man who had abducted her. A man they all thought was dead.
Jag wiped his hand on a napkin and then got up. “Call Mrs. Abbott to take the children back to their quarters. I need to let Vander know.”
Ivy shook her head. “No.” She got up from the couch and motioned for Riley and Jag to follow her outside.
“We can’t babysit them, Ivy. If Bors is behind this, then you need to be moved to safety,” Jag argued.
“Bors is dead. Vander killed him in the mountains, Jag. You were there. You saw his lion tear him apart.” She paced to the railing, but then turned. “You heard Vander. This was an inside job, and it’s no coincidence that Maddox was attacked the very day those children came to the palace.”
Riley balked. “Ivy, you can’t possibly think those kids had anything to do with whatever knocked Maddox unconscious?”
“Of course not.” Ivy chewed on her lip. “But someone here recognized Kes and Lettie, and their presence at the palace scared them enough to act.”
Jag glanced at the two innocents and then shook his head. “Ivy, that’s a stretch at best.”
“Jag, it’s not a coincidence. I feel it in my gut. Whoever is at the heart of this conspiracy, this poisoning…they knew the children could out them the same as Maddox, or if not out them directly, then lead them to someone who could.” She turned on her heel to face Jag and Riley. “Like Bors.”
“But you just said Bors was dead,” Riley countered.
Jag glanced down to the courtyard and the guards posted. “Then it’s time we found out for sure. When Ivy was taken, Bors and his cohorts disguised themselves as nomads. What if it’s all linked? The mountain rogues and the nomadic factions? Vander thinks the nomads are happy and well provided for, but what if some aligned themselves with Maddox?”
He turned his gaze back to the women. “In the meantime, Ivy’s right,” he agreed. “The kids should stay put, same as you two. I’ll send a guard to bring the others. Gerri and Karis can finish helping Henley here.”
Ivy nodded and walked back inside, giving Riley a quick nod.
“Well, so much for going over the wall tonight,” Jag said with a shrug. “Duty calls.”
Riley gave him a quick smile and then moved close enough to press a kiss to his cheek. She went up on tiptoe. “Rain check?” she whispered.
He swept her close and crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her hard and fast before pulling back. “Count on it.”
10
So?” Vander looked across his desk, his fingers tabled as he waited for Damen to close the door. “I don’t care what you have to do. I want answers and
you’d better have some.”
Damen sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and watched Vander’s eyes narrow. Jag was unusually quiet as he sipped a tumbler with whiskey.
“They were drugged,” Damen replied without preface. “All four men.”
“Drugged? How?” Jag asked.
Damen dropped what looked like a lab report on Vander’s desk. “I had the remnants of their food tested. The watered Sidaii I allow whenever the men sit sentinel was laced with a narcotic. They were out cold before they swallowed the first gulp.”
“Who prepared their food? Was it from our kitchens?” Jag asked.
Damen nodded. “Everything but the wine. Because it was Maddox, a high-risk prisoner, I gave orders that even watered Sidaii was not to be allowed. One of the guards must have paid someone to smuggle it in for them.”
“Fuck.” Vander rubbed his forehead. “Has the caliber of guard dropped so significantly? Where are these men coming from that they show such disregard? It’s not like they’re not well compensated.”
Jag swallowed his drink in a single gulp, the alcohol burning down to his stomach. “Maddox wasn’t the only one opposed to you mating Ivy. Many, including members of the elite guard, don’t like the idea of a human as queen. Maddox and his psycho followers are a problem that needs to be dealt with, but that doesn’t make them less of a threat simply because we think they’re nuts. Don’t forget, it was one of our own who double-crossed us and kidnapped Ivy. If it happened once before, it could happen again. They’ll take a spear through the heart for you or me, but they’re having trouble rallying the same emotion for a girl they see as inferior.”
“Damn, bro.” Damen shook his head. “Considering you spent the better part of today sniffing the hind end of your own human plaything, you shouldn’t talk.”
Jag grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured another shot into his glass. “Hey! Riley is something special. A real woman. She’s beautiful, inside and out. With a generous heart to match her generous curves, which is a lot more than I can say for most of the women I meet around here.”
“Wow. I never thought I’d live to see the day.” Damen chuckled.
Jag pointed the end of the whiskey bottle at the man. “Shut up, Damen. No one asked you.”
“He’s got it bad, Vander. Your brother’s been bitten by a notorious Earth insect. We’d better call pest control.”
Vander’s lips twitched as Jag sunk into his chair with his whiskey. “You mean the love bug?”
“I hate you both,” Jag grumbled. “We’re dealing with serious issues, yet you two infants would rather bust my balls about a girl.”
Damen snorted. “Girl? Didn’t you just tell us she was a real woman?”
“Fuck you, Damen.” Jag sat up. “I notice you track Henley often enough when you think no one’s looking. Or are you just keeping tabs on our visitors?”
“Okay, you two. Enough,” Vander interjected, directing the conversation back to the topic at hand. “Jag’s right. We have a real threat under our own roof.”
Jag shot back his drink and coughed. “Speaking of threats, did you get my message?”
“I got it.” Vander lifted the torn envelope and held it out to Damen. “Take a look at this.”
The chief of security scanned the note. Pressing his lips closed, he folded the hand scribbled letter, passing it back to Vander. “What do you think this means?”
“I think it means we need to find out if Bors survived your xenos. Your inner cat is ancient and deadly, but we were so concerned for Ivy and getting her to safety we never checked to see if Bors was truly dead,” Jag replied.
Vander raked a hand through his dark hair. “It’s impossible. I felt his skull crack in my jaws. Every bone in his body shattered when I shook him.” He looked at Jag. “His neck snapped.”
Jag lifted a hand in commiseration. “I know, Damen and I saw it, too. But Bors is a mountain tribesman. He might have been rogue, but they still have magic and could have kept him in stasis until he could shift. His body couldn’t have healed. It’s a longshot, but from what little Kes said about the nomad’s scars,” he shrugged, “the description fits.”
“Bors disguised himself as a nomad when he double-crossed Maddox and took Ivy to sell her to the highest bidder instead of giving her to the jungle warlords,” Damen added. “Everyone knows those jungle chiefs are more coldblooded and pitiless than even the mountain rogues. Among the Mirror Mountain rogues, money talks. The jungle warlords would eat their young if it suited their needs.”
Vander exhaled. “We need to know if he’s still alive or not. I sent both of you to negotiate with the warlords once before, but—”
“No, Vander.” Damen shook his head. “They will not negotiate. They want you, your kingdom, and the control the Palladian capital has over the sand trade routes. They know that’s where the power lies, and they’ll use whatever means necessary, including Bors’ hatred for you after what your xenos did to him. That’s if he’s still alive.”
He nodded. “Then, it’s settled. We need to find out and the only way to do that is to canvas the seedier side of Palladia. If it comes to it, we might have to send some enforcers into the mountains to get them to give up whatever they know. Things have been so restless, but I thought we could stop the fight from spilling closer to us.”
“I have people if you need them,” Damen offered. “People you told me to cultivate, just in case.”
Vander shook his head. “We don’t need them here in the palace, not yet, but you might need them if it comes to a war with the jungle.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but we also have a rat hiding in plain sight right here. Like you said, no one is above suspicion,” Damen continued. “My guess is it’s someone with money and outside contacts. I think we should start with the staff. Get them to give up who paid whom for what. If that doesn’t work, and Ivy’s right and the children are as much a threat as she thinks, then if we leave out enough cheese, the rat might come to us.”
Jag shook his head. “Riley will never allow us to use those children as bait.”
“I wasn’t planning on asking Riley. Besides, she has no say in this matter,” Damen shot back.
Vander looked between the two men. “Ivy would never agree, either, but what the women don’t know won’t hurt them, but leaving a traitor loose in the palace just might.” He moved his gaze to Damen. “Do whatever is required, but for the sake of my marriage and my mate, keep those children safe.”
Jag nodded. “That goes double for me. Riley is halfway to mama cat with those two ragamuffins.”
“Don’t worry. I have my methods. I’ll get the job done with the least collateral damage possible.” Damen nodded. “We have to watch out for our people, though.” He glanced at Vander. “Your people. I’ve heard rumors even the desert tribes are in cahoots with the rogues.”
“What?” Vander and Jag said in unison. “No. They rely on the palace to keep them safe.”
Damen shook his head. “It’s just a rumor, but you know the mountains. For the right money, they’ll do anything, and that includes trafficking.”
Vander frowned. “The nomad that was so keen on that little girl.”
“Lettie.” The image the conversation formed made his mouth sour. “No. No way in hell. I’ll visit the sands myself to make sure there’s no truth to the rumor.”
Damen held up a hand. “First things first,” he said. “Let’s canvas our own backyard. Hit the clubs and the bars. The dives where these lowlifes hang out. See what you can pick up.”
“Fine,” Jag agreed. “I’ll give Riley a heads up. If I’m hitting the town, I’m taking her with me.”
Vander’s brows knotted. “Have you lost what sense God gave you? Do you honestly think I’m going to put one of our girls in danger?”
“Vander, we’re taking matters into our own hands. If it looks like I’ve got my own human hoochie in tow, the right people might offer information that’ll give us the
lead we want. Besides, what’s going to happen with me there? I’m the best warrior you’ve got.”
Vander’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t shake his head. Jag was right. His brother was a machine when he fought. Vicious, but methodical. His mind circled back to the desert and that night in the mountains when Ivy was taken. The anguish of not knowing. The ache for the love he might never see again. If Jag felt even one-tenth of that for Riley, then he’d kill first and ask questions later.
“Okay, Jag. Do it.” Vander nodded and then looked at Damen. “Handpick a squad from your personal guard. Between yours and mine, I can cover the palace for one night if you want to help my brother divide and conquer the Palladian club scene. Just make sure you fill Henley in, as well. That girl’s mind is as much a strategic steel trap as yours.”
11
You’re going where?” Ivy asked, shoving another pillow behind her back with a wince. “Great. So I get to stay here and practice my mothering skills? Alone?”
Gerri smirked, pouring glasses of sparkling Sidaii into long flutes. “Karis and I are staying, but I suppose we don’t count.” She carried the tray to where Riley sat and put it on the coffee table after handing her one of the elegant glasses. “Drink up. You need to be relaxed if you expect to get your groove on.”
Henley laughed. “Oh, she’s primed, Gerri. Have no fear. I read the note Jag sent her and that boy’s engine is purring like a lion in heat.”
“Leave her alone, Henley. Behave, or maybe you’d rather stay here with us instead of meeting Damen in the situation room?” Karis asked, raising an eyebrow. “You might be able to fool the others, but I know exactly whose situation is being situated, and where, with you two.”
Henley snorted. “Good. As long as you don’t know how it’s being situated, I’m good.”
“Now, now,” Gerri interrupted. “The girls have every right to let anticipation run through their veins. That mouthwatering hint of what’s to come is half the fun of hooking up.”