And then the smoke from one of the explosions rolled across the street. It missed Kristina, up ahead, but it surrounded me. I’d been sucking down big lungs of Lakovia’s crisp, clean air as I ran, but suddenly my lungs spasmed, shaken by acrid fumes. All I could see was white and I could feel ash and cinders hitting my face, some of them still hot enough to burn. My part of the crowd slowed and broke up, everyone stumbling in different directions. Shit! I had to pull up short to avoid tripping over a fallen woman and then I couldn’t figure out which way I’d been going.
I turned in a circle, coughing. The smoke thickened and—
I felt the memory bearing down on me. I closed my eyes, tried to shut it out but—
It slammed into me. The sand scrunched under my feet as I fought for grip against the wind. I was fumbling along the side of the house, rough concrete under my fingertips. Then there was nothing to follow: I was lost, buried in sand and dust, the air as solid as the ground. I could see nothing, not even my own boots. I staggered on, gun out in front of me, struggling to breathe. And then the man ran out of the dust. Only feet away and heading straight for me—
Cool, damp mountain air bathed my face. The wind was whipping the smoke away. I was in Lakovia, on the street. The crowd was picking up speed again as more explosions sounded in the distance but—
I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t see her anywhere.
Oh Jesus. How long had I frozen for? Oh God, please no. My eyes searched the crowd.
But I’d lost her.
43
Kristina
I was lifted and carried, scrambling to stay on my feet. All I could see was shoulders and necks and black, screaming mouths.
Another bomb went off, this one close enough that the world jolted and rocked and, when it stabilized again, there was no sound. I looked back for a second and, to my horror, the carriage was like a toy in the distance. Then smoke hid even that.
The crowd ran until it hit the end of the street, then pooled and twisted, splitting to rush down side streets. Someone pushed me in their panic and I slipped and went down. I saw backs and then—
No!
Running legs and—
No!
Feet.
I screamed and curled into a ball as I was trampled.
44
Garrett
It’s my fault. My fault for being weak, for being a mess. If something happens to her—
I forced myself to push it all aside. Now that the smoke had cleared, I could get my bearings. I sprinted in the last direction I saw her, overtaking the rest of the crowd, barging them aside. But I still couldn’t see her. Up ahead, the street ended and split into a maze of side streets. It was a swirling mess of people. I was taller than most of them but—my stomach knotted—if she was down on the ground….
I jumped up onto a parked car and from there onto a parked truck. That let me climb up onto a hotel balcony and then, finally, I could look down from above. Still nothing. I glanced around, frantic: was there a better vantage point?
And then I froze.
Silvas Lukin was on the balcony two along from mine, a radio raised to his mouth. We stared at each other in shock for a full second. Then the rage hit me and I started sprinting along the balcony towards him. My dad! Kristina! All those children you killed! I was going to rip his goddamn head off!
I was just jumping across to the next balcony when I saw him snap an order into the radio and point to a spot in the crowd. I followed his finger.
Kristina! My throat closed up. She was lying on her side, unmoving. Her white and gold dress was stained red with blood.
Then I saw the men moving through the crowd towards her. Lukin’s men, dressed in black and armed with rifles. That’s what he was doing up on the balcony: he’d been directing them as they searched for her. And now he’d found her.
I took another step along the balcony. He was six feet away. I could reach him: I could end all this.
But not before his men killed her.
With a howl of fury, I vaulted over the side of the balcony and landed hard on the street. Legs screaming, I put my head down and charged through the crowd to where Kristina lay. I dropped to a crouch as I reached her and touched her shoulder….
She didn’t move.
My stomach lurched. I didn’t have time to check if she was alive: Lukin’s men would be on us in seconds. I picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder, praying nothing was broken. Then I looked for somewhere to run.
The first gunman burst out of the crowd and pointed his rifle right at Kristina. I roared in anger, grabbed the barrel of his gun and heaved, hurling him aside.
I battered my way onto one of the side streets. It was quieter, there, easier to move, but almost immediately another gunman burst out of a cross-street ahead of us. I had to hold Kristina to my shoulder with one hand while I pulled my gun and shot him with the other. Then I looked around, panting. Shit! They were surrounding us. I was outnumbered and it would be a while before the rest of the royal guards found us. Where could we go? Think!
Then I looked down.
I set Kristina gently down on the street and then heaved up the heavy manhole cover. Someone was watching out for us because Kristina chose that moment to stir. My heart lifted. She’s alive!
We didn’t have time for the ladder. I took her hands and lowered her down. She was groggy but she had just enough awareness to stand when her feet touched bottom. Then I scrambled in myself, pulled the cover over my head and dropped down to join her.
For long seconds we stood there in darkness. Had one of Lukin’s men seen us? I pointed my gun up at the cover, waiting for it to lift….
Nothing. I finally let out a long sigh and then wrapped Kristina into my arms. “Are you okay?” I whispered. “Are you hurt?”
She mumbled something, still groggy. I pulled out the new phone Emerik had given me and used its screen as a light. Her delicate face was smudged with dirt and there was a red mark where she’d taken at least one kick in the cheek. Her dress was covered in footprints and when I gently ran my hands over her she winced at the bruises. But I couldn’t feel anything broken and the blood on her dress was on the outside. Someone else’s.
I took her hand and we hurried through the ankle-deep water, the noise of the crowd fading behind us. When she couldn’t run anymore, I carried her. I eventually stumbled to a stop at a grating. Beyond the bars, I could see the sun sparkling off the river. We were at least half a mile from the assassins.
We were safe.
I called Emerik and told him where we were. Then I took Kristina in my arms and we clutched each other harder than we ever had before. I’d come so close to losing her. As long as I was holding her, she was safe.
But after just a few minutes, I heard sirens approaching. Then doors slamming and running boots. Kristina’s mouth was by my ear. Even so, I could barely hear her voice, it was so weak. “You have to let me go,” she said.
I savagely shook my head and tightened my arms around her even more.
“You have to,” she rasped. “They can’t find us like this. You have to let me go, Garrett.”
I closed my eyes. And let her go.
45
Garrett
When the doors of the palace opened, Aleksander was there to meet us. He gave a huge sigh of relief when he saw Kristina. “Thank God,” he said, embracing her. Then, over her shoulder, “Thank you, Mr. Buchanan.”
When he released her, he shook his head. “From now on, Your Majesty, I must insist you don’t leave the palace. This is the only place we can guarantee your safety. I’ve also asked General Novak to put soldiers in the palace, to supplement your royal guard.”
“I’m safe in here,” said Kristina bitterly. “What about our people, out there?”
I felt that flutter in my chest again, the rush of loyalty alongside the love. She’d nearly died and her first thought was for her people.
“They’re terrified, Your Majesty,” Aleksander allowed. �
��And there’s something else: a few news sites have started running stories about Garmania. How the attempts on your life were by Garmanians, how this is likely a prelude to war.”
“What?!” Kristina went pale. “How did that get out there?”
“I don’t know,” said Aleksander. “But it’s out there now.” General Novak joined us and stood silently listening. “There have already been some attacks on Garmanian communities in Lakovia. Vigilante ‘justice.’ There may be rioting, once the sun sets.”
An intake of breath beside me. Jakov had walked in and was standing there, fists balled. God, of course: his parents lived in one of those communities. I patted the big guy on the back.
“I’d like to put troops on the streets, Your Majesty,” said General Novak. “To patrol those communities and quell any riots.”
Kristina closed her eyes. “If that’s what it takes... very well.”
“Also, Your Majesty,” said Aleksander, “the Garmanian Prime Minister wants to speak to you.”
“I’ll call him right away,” she said. Then she swayed on her feet and I had to grab her arm to stop her falling.
“He can wait,” said Aleksander tenderly. “Let’s get you cleaned up and let the doctors take a look at you.” He led her to the elevator. As the doors began to close, I stared into her tear-filled eyes. I had to force myself not to run to her, haul the doors open and gather her into my arms. I sighed and headed off to call the hospital and check on my dad.
“Mr. Buchanan!”
I’d know that voice anywhere. I winced and turned around. Jakov had disappeared and even General Novak had slipped away. It was just me... and the Queen. Or as she was now known, the Queen Mother.
“Your Majesty,” I said with a bow. “What can I—”
Her voice was a dagger shaped from ice. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Shit.
She stalked closer to me, her heels echoing on the marble floor. “Emerik denied everything. But I eventually got it out of Jakov. I know what happened in America. In New York!” She spat the last two words.
I lowered my eyes to the floor and said nothing. I didn’t blame Jakov for talking: the Queen Mother was intimidating as hell. But I was glad to hear that Emerik had tried to cover for me.
“How dare you?” she said. “You’re a soldier. A hired thug.”
She spat the word soldier as if it dirtied her mouth. For a second, I couldn’t understand the hatred. Then I remembered Kristina’s horrific imprisonment at the hands of Garmanian soldiers. Dammit.
“She was grateful to you for protecting her,” snapped the Queen Mother. “So you took advantage of her. You took her to bed and mounted her like a cheap wh—”
Hot rage boiled up inside me, unstoppable, and my head snapped up. The anger in my eyes stopped her dead. I wouldn’t let her speak about Kristina like that. I fought to get the words out, to tell her how I felt about her daughter—
But I didn’t have to. The Queen Mother’s expression changed: first shock, then horror, and then she just looked tired. “You stupid, stupid man,” she breathed. “You’re in love with her.”
I braced myself... and nodded. She closed her eyes and sighed. “Aren’t you going to ask if she loves me?” I asked.
“No, I am not. Love isn't for people like us, Mr. Buchanan. It's for you, the common folk. A queen marries for power, for security, for peace. That's the way it's been for hundreds of years. She cannot be with you, Mr. Buchanan.”
“I don't care,” I growled. “I'll protect her, for as long as she needs me.”
“And what about when the courting starts?” asked the Queen Mother. “The romance? Are you ready to hold the door open for her suitors as they arrive? Will you chauffeur them, watching in the rear view mirror as they kiss in the back seat?” She leaned closer, each syllable a vicious little stab. “Will you stand guard outside her bedroom door, knowing he's fucking her inside?”
I stood there helpless. I was furious, but I had no words to fight back with.
“Spare yourself, Mr. Buchanan.” She said my name as if it tasted bad. “And if you don’t care about yourself, spare her. She has enough to worry about, with Garmania about to invade again. Can’t you see the pain you’ll put her through: the man she can’t have, right there in her sight every day? You’re condemning her to misery.”
I marched off, raging. I walked the halls trying to calm myself, but there was a hurricane blowing inside me. I felt like a goddamn bull in a china shop: my heavy footfalls set vases rocking and suits of armor rattling. I was too big, too unrefined for this place.
I finally came to a stop under a row of life-sized paintings of the royal family and their ancestors. They were arranged by date and in the most recent one, Kristina stood there in a white dress and tiara. She was beautiful. She was special. She fit in this place.
She was up there in the clouds and I was down in the mud, where soldiers always are. Even if I wasn’t, even if I had a magic lamp and a genie who could make me a goddamn prince, it didn’t change what was inside me. It didn’t change what I’d done.
I made a decision. And went to find Kristina to tell her.
46
Kristina
Down in the medical facility, Dr. Glavnic checked me out. I had some scrapes on my shins and calves that he carefully cleaned, a lump on my head where I’d been kicked and plenty of bruises, but there’d be no lasting damage. “You were lucky,” he told me.
“I had Mr. Buchanan,” I told him.
I checked in on my father, but there was no change. I slowly climbed the stairs up the tower to my room. Just lifting each foot was an effort: I was exhausted. Everything’s such a mess. Garmania about to invade us. My own people close to rioting. I’d seen Jakov’s face when he heard about the vigilante justice. All his fears were coming true. I’d hidden the cherry candy I’d bought in America away in a drawer. I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince him to give it to Simone, not when things were like this.
In my bedroom, I fell into a chair. The sun was low and the room was a mass of shadows.
Something moved out from behind the drapes. A figure. I let out a half scream and dived for the door. There’s someone in here! I turned on the lights—
“Sorry,” said Caroline absently. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I wilted, panting, my hand to my chest. “Jesus! What are you doing in here?”
“I just wanted to be alone,” she whispered.
She looked thin and drawn. Is she eating? “Caroline…”
She shook her head and tried to push past me. I had to grab her arm to stop her. “Talk to me!” I demanded.
She was close to tears. “You have a country to run,” she said.
So that was why she hadn’t been talking to me. Being Queen had even messed up things with my best friend. “Oh, Caroline!” I gathered her into my arms. “I always have time for you.”
She hiccoughed. Her face crumpled. And suddenly it all came out, all the tears she’d been holding back since we discovered Sebastian was a traitor.
“I’m just—” She sniffed. “I just want to see him. Even after what he did. I just—Why can’t everything just go back to the way it was?”
“I know,” I whispered, stroking her blonde hair. “I know.”
She shook her head viciously. “You don’t know,” she said. She pulled back and looked at me. “Kristina, I thought he was the one!”
She threw herself against my chest again and started sobbing. My chest ached for her. I’d had no idea it was that serious. No wonder she was heartbroken.
“They have him in a cell!” she sobbed. “And everyone’s—”
She broke off, but I frowned. “Everyone’s what?”
“I heard some of the other maids talking. They think I must have known. Or that I’m stupid for not realizing.”
My arms tightened around her. I was going to have some very stern words with those maids. “He was very convincing,” I said gently. “
I liked him too. He had us all fooled. He’s so nice.” Shy, in fact. That’s why I’d been so surprised at the idea of him and Caroline together.
“That’s what I like about him,” croaked Caroline.
I released her from the hug so that I could look at her.
“Other men just want to…” She looked down at her feet. “You know. They think I’m blonde, and a maid, and they want me for... fun. But Sebastian, he treats me like I’m something special.” Her lower lip trembled and she looked up at me. “He makes me feel like—”
She broke off and started sobbing again, but it didn’t matter: I knew what she meant. I’ve always known that it must be hard for her, being best friends with a royal.
Sebastian had made her feel like she was the princess.
I hugged her close. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I’m sorry all this happened.”
She shook her head. “It’s not your fault,” she managed.
But that didn’t stop the guilt that was welling up inside me. It was me they were trying to kill. All the casualties of this thing: the dead FBI agents, Caroline, Garrett’s dad... I felt responsible. I held Caroline for a long time, until she’d cried herself out.
“Do you want to do something, when all this is over?” she asked, sniffing.
I nodded. “That spa in the mountains, with the hot tubs?”
“I’d really like that.” She hugged me again, then let me go. “You have work to do.”
I nodded reluctantly. “I have to call the Garmanian Prime Minister.”
I saw her hand tighten on the doorknob at the mention of Garmania. “Give the bastard an earful from me.”
When she’d gone, I slumped into a chair and picked up the phone. I stared at the old-fashioned receiver for a moment. I was exhausted, battered and in pain: I was in no shape to be attempting negotiations. But on the way down to the medical facility, Aleksander had shown me a report that left me no choice. I had to try to stop this turning into a war.
Saving the Princess Page 20