Royal Wedding Threat

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Thaddeus and his very-pregnant wife, Queen Monica, stepped into the next car with their son, Prince Peter. The queen was due to have twins in another month, with the various Sardis newspapers taking sides over whether the babies would be boys, girls or one of each. To Jason’s knowledge—and he had some of the best intel in the palace—no one knew the gender of the babies, save possibly the royal family themselves, though none of them had whispered a thing about it to anyone.

  The princesses Isabelle and Anastasia took the next car, along with their guards, Isabelle’s husband, Levi Grenaldo, and Anastasia’s fiancé, Kirk Covington. The father of the bride joined them in their limousine.

  More members of the wedding party followed. Prince Alexander’s groomsmen included Titus, the royal guard the prince credited with saving his and Lily’s lives in the deserts of North Africa. Jason didn’t begrudge the guard his position—in fact, he considered it helpful to have a trained man so close to the wedding party. Titus had even insisted on wearing an earpiece so he could use his position to the greatest advantage.

  Finally Lillian Bardici’s closest friends, who were serving as bridesmaids, poured from the castle surrounding the bride in her long, white gown. They held her train and her long, flowing veil to keep it from touching the ground and delicately tucked everything around her in the limousine before climbing into the car after her.

  Jason assessed the progress of the elegant wedding party. When they were all ensconced in their assigned vehicles, he stepped over to Ava’s side and offered her his elbow. “Ready?”

  “I guess.” Ava placed her hand on his arm and let him lead her. “Can you feel me trembling?”

  He could. Her hand shook so hard he had to focus on keeping his arm still. “You’re not usually nervous before weddings, are you?”

  “Usually only a little.” She paused as he opened the door to the sedan that would take them to the cathedral. “But usually no one’s trying to kill me.” She ducked inside, and Jason scooted in after her, nodding to Paul to proceed.

  Since the thought had occurred to him before, Jason confessed, “I’m impressed with how well you’re holding together, given the circumstances.”

  She cast him a wry smile. “It’s my job. Weddings are full of chaos and uncertainty and things going wrong at the last moment. My job is to absorb all those blows, fix whatever I can and keep a level head so the bride and groom can enjoy their day.”

  Jason grinned at her explanation of her duties, realizing only as she made her explanation that their job descriptions weren’t all that different—not really. Perhaps that was another reason they’d clashed so much—they were both trying to achieve the same thing, but without working together. He’d be sure to rectify that in the future, assuming he could convince Ava to stay in Lydia. And his new recruits could learn a great deal from this elegant, courageous woman.

  But for the moment, Jason needed to focus on the wedding. According to the plan he’d gone over with his guards the evening before, Ava and Jason would arrive first, hopefully before anyone realized the wedding party was on its way. Paul would stop in front of the steps to the cathedral and come around to open the door for them. With Paul blocking visibility on one side and Jason on the other, the two of them would escort her into the building.

  Once they were safely inside, Paul would climb back into the car and drive away, clearing the way for the rest of the royals to arrive, with Ava poised to receive them. Prince Alexander was already there, waiting with Dom Procopio in his back study.

  The tricky part, of course, would be getting Ava safely inside the building. Though barricades kept the crowd and media at bay, Jason had seen the masses gathered just beyond the velvet ropes—a throng of people so thick a killer could easily blend in among them. Besides the ground-level spectators, there were people watching from the windows and balconies of all the nearby buildings, including the U.S. embassy across the street from the cathedral.

  The killer could be anywhere.

  The short car ride felt painfully long, though the sedan didn’t once stop. Finally they reached the front of the cathedral. As planned, Paul put the vehicle in Park and trotted around the back side to open Ava’s door. She stepped out between the armored guard and the armored car door.

  Jason slid out behind her, swept one arm around her waist and led her up the stairs with Paul close by on the other side. Alexander’s officers from the army lined the steps on either side, their bayonets pointed skyward, their white suits nearly blinding in the bright sunlight.

  The guards at the top of the stairs pulled one door open as Ava neared the top of the stairs. Jason ushered Ava through and stepped in after her, his eyes taking a moment to adjust after the bright sunlight outside.

  He quickly identified all those standing nearby. Guards—Jason recognized each one of them.

  They’d made it safely through the first step.

  How many more remained? Rather than allow himself to think about the long day that stretched before them—and the many longer days that stretched after as long as the killer remained at large—Jason focused on the next step. The guards would allow the distinguished arrivals through one by one. Music already flowed out from the sanctuary to the large front narthex, where the wedding party would arrange themselves.

  Jason stood at Ava’s side as she expertly handled all the splendor of the formalities. Once Lillian was inside and safely tucked away out of sight with her bridesmaids in a small parlor between the narthex and the fellowship hall, Ava used her walkie-talkie to instruct Dom Procopio to send Prince Alexander out to escort his parents up the aisle.

  The queen mother let her frail husband hold tight to the prince’s arm, while she supported him from the other side. They progressed slowly up the center aisle as the orchestra played deep in the apse, behind the chancel, its notes filling the ancient sanctuary high to the vaulted ceiling. The musicians themselves were all but completely hidden from view by the massive candelabras and floral displays that had transformed the chancel into a veritable Garden of Eden dominated by white lilies and lilies of the valley.

  Once the prince’s parents were seated in the front pew, Alexander took his place at the front next to the deacon, and Ava began sending up the members of the wedding party in pairs. First, Lily’s friends with their escorts, then Alex’s sisters, Isabelle on Levi’s arm, Anastasia with Kirk Covington. Finally with King Thaddeus serving as his brother’s best man, the king escorted Queen Monica, pregnant and glowing, her bouquet of lilies perched above her swelling baby bump, to the front, where, as planned, the queen was given a spot near the queen mother and former king in the front pew.

  But instead of sitting, Queen Monica remained standing. At Ava’s signal, the music changed, swelling to the opening notes of the bridal march as Lily emerged on her father’s arm last of all, as beautiful as her namesake flower, which she carried in a massive bouquet that trailed nearly to the hem of her gown.

  The queen mother rose and the rest of the congregation followed suit. At the front of the sanctuary, Prince Alexander’s face beamed with emotion as he caught his first glimpse of his bride in her wedding gown.

  Jason looked down at Ava, who stood just out of sight of most of the congregation, peeking through a gap between the last of the three sets of double doors at the rear of the sanctuary. Her attention was fully focused on the bride’s progress up the aisle. Lillian looked lovely in her wedding gown. But in Jason’s eyes, Ava was the real beauty, selflessly devoted to the happiness of the families she served.

  What was it she’d promised her brides? To give them the wedding of their dreams?

  Suddenly Jason realized he wanted nothing more than to give Ava that very same thing. What would she look like in a flowing white gown, holding flowers, walking toward him as he stood by Dom Procopio’s side? She’d be breathtaking. But would Ava even be interested in marrying him? She
’d never mentioned what her feelings were or even whether she intended to return to the United States once her term of service had ended.

  “Ready?” Ava looked up at him.

  Jason blinked, so lost in thought he had to refocus his attention on the present. Lily had reached the front of the sanctuary. He and Ava were now to climb the back spiral staircase that led to the balcony. From there they’d oversee the rest of the service. Realizing he needed to remain alert and not allow his thoughts to drift off again, Jason led the way up the stairs, checking first around every bend to be certain no one lay in wait for them.

  They reached the top safely, and as Jason had expected, based on the successful rehearsal the day before, the rest of the service went smoothly, save for the bride nearly losing her voice to happy tears as she repeated her vows to the prince. Ava stayed in the balcony as the recessional began to play, using the bird’s-eye vantage point to oversee everyone’s exit.

  When the bride and groom reached the rear of the sanctuary, Ava contacted the men below, who escorted the pair into the parlor again while the rest of the wedding party and the guests gathered outside.

  Finally, with Ava overseeing everything from the balcony through an opened panel of the great stained-glass window that overlooked the front stairs of the cathedral, the pair of horses arrived pulling the bulletproof carriage, and Ava used her walkie-talkie to let the bellmen know it was time to ring the ancient church bells.

  Musical cacophony filled the air as the bells rang out from the high tower above. At their signal, the bride and groom stepped out together.

  Cheers erupted all along the street, along with flashbulbs and cloudbursts of white paper confetti as the prince and his bride descended the stairs and climbed into the carriage. The horses obediently stepped forward at the driver’s signal, and the carriage rolled away toward the palace. In its place, limousines queued up to collect their passengers.

  Ava oversaw it all, staying in contact with the men below until the last of the dignitaries had reached their cars and the guards sent up word that the wedding party had arrived inside the safety of the palace gates.

  Only then did Ava turn her attention to him. “We can leave once all the guests are inside the palace gates. It shouldn’t be long now.”

  “Let’s head downstairs.” Jason held out his hand, grateful when she clasped her fingers around his as he led her back to the main floor. From there, the plan was for the two of them to sneak out through the back-alley door, signaling Paul to meet them with the car, timing his approach and theirs so the sedan would spend minimal time idling in the alley. They didn’t want the vehicle to sit there long enough to draw attention.

  Guards met them on the main floor. “The last of the guests have left the building.”

  “Good. Do a final sweep of the building to make sure all the doors are locked and latched, then head for the palace. We’ll need you there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jason led Ava to a back hallway. He contacted Paul as they walked.

  “I’m two blocks away,” the guard informed him. “I have a straight shot to the alley door. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  Since they were alone in the back hallway, and since Jason knew it would be many more long minutes before all the guests made their way to the palace, he decided it was his best opportunity to ask the question that had been burning inside him throughout the entire ceremony.

  “What are your plans once the weddings are over?”

  Ava smiled up at him. “I’m going to take my shoes off and soak in a warm bath.”

  “That sounds relaxing.” Jason cleared his throat. “I was thinking more about what you’re planning to do once Anastasia’s wedding is over. The royals have you booked through that event—but what do you see yourself doing then?”

  Ava nibbled her lower lip as she met his eyes in the dimly lit hallway. “They had asked me to stay on as the royal-event coordinator. I’ve not yet given them an answer, and in light of the threat against my life, well...” Her voice faded and she looked down at the floor.

  Jason’s heart pounded as he guessed what she might be about to say. But even that didn’t prepare him for hearing the words.

  “I think it would be safer for everyone in Lydia if I went back to the States tomorrow.”

  “No.”

  Ava looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise.

  Even he hadn’t expected to voice his disagreement out loud, but the word had escaped like a breath from a physical blow.

  “What?” Ava looked confused.

  “I don’t think that will solve anything. You’ll still be in danger. I can’t protect you there. I can’t go with you.”

  “My presence here endangers everyone—the royals, innocent bystanders, the guards, you.”

  “Me?”

  “You were hit by a car protecting me. You’ve been at my side every time I’ve left the palace. It’s not safe for you. I can’t—”

  To Jason’s chagrin, her words were cut off by a transmission to his earpiece. “All of the guests on our list have safely arrived. The way is clear.”

  “We’re clear,” Jason informed Ava.

  “Let’s go.”

  “We don’t have to be in a hurry—” He hoped to finish their conversation, to convince her to stay before she entertained the notion of leaving for even a moment longer.

  “I feel terrible about being absent from the reception this long. We can talk in the car, if you like.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Jason pressed the button that allowed him to speak to Paul via earpiece. “We’re ready for you.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty seconds.”

  “We’ll be waiting.”

  Ava stepped toward the door ahead of him. She seemed eager to escape their conversation, which worried him. Why was she so intent on leaving? What were her feelings toward him? He knew he didn’t want to lose her. Even if her killer was caught and she was safe to return home without any threat of danger, he still didn’t want her to leave.

  But she seemed completely intent on going.

  “Ava.” He stopped her, placing one hand over hers as she gripped the slam bar that would unlock and open the rear alley door. “Wait until Paul arrives with the car.” Then, pressing the talk button, he asked Paul, “Are you here?”

  “Waiting on cross traffic. I thought most of the crowd had left, but—”

  While Paul’s voice buzzed in his ear, Ava, either misunderstanding that Paul hadn’t yet arrived or simply eager to escape their conversation, leaned against the slam bar just far enough to disengage the lock, though the door remained shut.

  “Ava,” he chided her, pulling back up on the bar.

  But he was too late. In that brief moment, someone on the other side tugged the door outward. Sunlight poured in through the crack.

  Jason pulled the door back, tugging on the slam bar with all his strength while Paul prattled on in his earpiece about how slow the traffic was moving.

  The party on the other side tugged the door open toward the alleyway. They clearly wanted in.

  “Who is it? Do you need something?” Jason asked, praying inwardly that the person on the other side wanted in for innocent reasons. Maybe a guest had forgotten something—but all the guests were already at the palace.

  No one answered his question. The person simply tugged all the harder on the door. Jason braced his feet and pulled back with all his might, moving the latch to within a hairbreadth of engaging with the lock.

  A massive tug on the other side pulled it open an inch or more—not far, but far enough that whoever was trying to get in was able to lodge a stiff object in the opening, preventing it from going closed.

  Jason reached for the object, prepared to push it back, when he recognized exactly what it was.

>   The barrel of a handgun.

  In one swift move, Jason wrapped an arm around Ava’s waist, practically plucking her from the ground as he lunged back down the hallway toward the ninety-degree turn and the protective cover offered by the thick stone walls. He prayed they’d make it out of sight before the door opened behind them.

  Shots rang out behind him as Jason all but threw Ava ahead of him around the corner and dived after her. He heard at least two sets of footsteps landing hard on the stone floor as their pursuers ran after them.

  “Gunmen in the cathedral,” Jason yelled into his earpiece as they ran down the next length of hallway toward the church offices. “Repeat—gunmen are in the cathedral.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Ava slowed her steps as they reached the end of the hallway. Her instincts told her to try to escape the building, to reach the guards who were surely still outside, somewhere in the near vicinity, but the hallway that led to the front doors had its start near the door where the gunmen had burst in. They couldn’t go that way.

  The only other route was to go through the sanctuary.

  “This way.” Ava pulled Jason through the small back door that led into the chancel. The front of the sanctuary was filled with flowers and extinguished candles, the scent of their smoke still lingering in the air. The room was dark, with only faint shadows of sunlight penetrating the stained glass.

  They shuffled forward hesitantly. Ava glanced down the back of the sanctuary. The orchestra’s chairs and music stands still cluttered the space in front of the organ pipes. The forty-eight floral displays, each of them twice as tall as Jason, were to be taken around to the local nursing homes and hospitals the next day, but for now they loomed like fragrant giants bowing in the empty church.

  Jason whispered, “They’re right behind us. We have to run for it, but stay low.”

  They hurried down the chancel, toward the carved wooden knee wall that separated the front of the sanctuary from the pews beyond. Ava sized up their options. The center aisle would be the fastest route to the front doors, though it would put them in clear sight. The side aisles stretched so very far away on either side, with thick columns all but blocking their path at even intervals.