Barrett, Julia Rachel - One Four All (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Julia Rachel Barrett

  Red wrestled the med kit out of Wat’s bag and searched for the prefilled syringes. “Hard to tell what’s what in the dark,” he muttered. “I’m gonna have to risk a little light.”

  Kepp peered in the direction of the fishing boat. They’d traveled quite a ways down the channel. “I think it’s safe,” he said. “Keep your body between the pen light and the shore at Land’s End. That should block any view from the fishing boat, too.”

  The small metal cylinders containing injectable medication clacked against each other as Red thumbed through them. “Here.” At last Kepp heard his friend unscrewing the lid. There was a small hiss as the hard, plastic catheter slid into place, puncturing the vacuum seal. “Ready. You want to do this, or should I?”

  “Go ahead,” Kepp instructed Red. “Stick it into the big muscle in her thigh. You can shoot it through the fatigues.”

  Red pulled the blanket away from Lira’s leg.

  “Right here,” said Kepp, and he pinched up a section of Lira’s quadriceps. The set was an auto-ject. All Red had to do was hit the spot.

  “Got it.”

  Lira gave a little jerk when Red stuck her with the catheter, but the process took less than two seconds. As Kepp watched, Red withdrew the catheter and flipped on the safety cover. He returned it to the canister and tossed it into Wat’s bag.

  Lira looked up at Kepp. Despite the darkness, he could see the pale whites of her eyes. “Why did you pinch me?” she asked.

  “You have a fever, love. We gave you some medicine.”

  “Oh.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “I was dreaming we were in the bathtub again, like last night, and the water was hot, very hot.” She gave him a little smile. “I’d like to do that again, Tanner. Perhaps you can be the one to take me from behind the next time? I haven’t had you that way, and I was hoping...” Lira fell asleep before she could finish her sentence.

  Red grinned unabashedly at her words while Wat made a valiant attempt to smother his laughter.

  Kepp bit back a curse. He wondered if he looked as miserable as he felt. Damn her, he did want to fuck her from behind. He wanted her every which way. Just the smell of jasmine drifting up from her hair made him hard as a rock. He’d promised himself to her and now, like a coward, he wanted to cut and run just because the rules she lived by didn’t award him the biggest piece of pie. Shit, he didn’t want a piece of the pie, he wanted the whole thing all for himself. He wanted to eat it still steaming-warm from the oven with thick, sweet cream poured over the top.

  Kepp wanted to kick his own ass. It’s what he deserved. Lira trusted him. Christ, she’d killed two men to protect Red, and she’d rushed to save him and Wat with nothing more than her bare hands. If that wasn’t devotion, what was?

  “Twenty yards to shore, captain,” whispered Wat. He cut the engines. Their own momentum carried them into the shallows.

  As Kepp handed Lira over to Red, he noticed that she’d opened her eyes. He wanted to say something to her but there wasn’t time. He and Wat jumped out of the craft, and together they hauled it onto the beach.

  “C’mon, Lira, let’s go,” said Kepp as Red lifted her into his arms. “We need cover. Let’s head for the trees. We should be able to turn on our signal beacon so the pilot can locate us.”

  Wat slung his bag over his shoulder and, pistol in his hand, took the lead. Red followed. Kepp, carrying Lira, brought up the rear. They were just a few steps from the safety of the forest when Kepp heard the sound of a clip being shoved into an automatic weapon. He stopped in his tracks.

  “Well, well, well. Welcome to the beautiful shores of Zhinshu, Khubuk scum.”

  There was the sound of more weapons being drawn and then the sight of men pouring from the trees, surrounding them. Wat and Red turned to flank him. Fuck. If they were dead men, then Lira would die with them.

  Kepp turned toward the voice. “You can’t kill us.”

  “Why not?” The Zealot laughed, his soft voice tinged with menace in the dark night. “It’s what we do best.”

  “Because,” Kepp removed the blanket from Lira’s face, “the woman I hold in my arms is the Princess Lira Patan. She’s sick, and she requires medical attention. I’ve already radioed for a medic. A heli-jet is on its way.”

  * * * *

  Lira heard threats spoken in the language of the Zealots. Tanner still held her, but she knew she had to muster the strength to stand on her own two feet and confront these men. If not, they were all dead.

  She called out in their tongue, “He speaks true.”

  When the Zealots fell silent, she placed her palms against Tanner’s chest and shoved. “Put me down,” she insisted. She could sense his reluctance. “Tanner, we are outnumbered. Only I can save us now.”

  The man slid her down his body, and her feet touched the cold, wet sand. Her legs felt wobbly, but he steadied her from behind, and she drew strength from his calm.

  These are my own trained men, and they will hesitate to kill a woman. Take heart. If I die this night, I will die with the men I love.

  Lira bared her right wrist and raised her arm. “One of you must have a light. Shine it on me,” she ordered the men, her voice imperious.

  She heard muttering, and she expected to be challenged, but her assumption was correct, her Zealots balked at shooting a woman. At last a man stepped forward and shone a small snare-light in her direction. In the thick silence that followed, they studied her tattoo. Lira felt as if they all stood poised on the edge of a knife blade. At last, a tremor made its way through her troops. They lowered their weapons and dropped to their knees.

  Head bowed, a tall man spoke up, his words contemptuous. “Why is the princess in the company of these infidels?”

  Lira’s voice lashed over him like a whip. “These infidels have saved my life. They are my three Chosen Ones. I have bonded with them of my own free will. If you wish to kill these men, you’ll have to kill me first.”

  “I beg your pardon, my princess, but your father…”

  “What about my father? Will he complain about men who have risked their own lives to return his daughter to Zhinshu?” Lira knew she could not remain upright much longer, but she feared for Tanner, Red, and Wat if she was unable to defend them. She tasted bile. But then Tanner wrapped an arm about her waist for support while Wat and Red flanked her. Lira felt some strength return. “The government of Khubuk is sending a heli-jet to take me to the capital city. I am sick.” She cleared her throat. “As Captain Kepp explained to you, I am in need of a doctor. Please radio my father’s personal guard and inform him. And commander…What is your name?”

  “Sinat Dhan, Princess.” The man rose to his feet.

  Lira made certain her voice carried. “These men are to be cherished as you cherish me, Sinat Dhan. If any harm should come to them, I will hold you personally responsible. It will mean your head and the head of every man who serves with you. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Lady.”

  With a flick of his wrist, Sinat Dahn motioned to another man who pulled out a small communicator. Relieved, Lira heard the man radio to their nearby encampment. The men there would find a way to contact the palace. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned back against Tanner. One of her hands sought Wat’s, the other she folded in Red’s big paw.

  “It will be all right, Lira.” Tanner’s deep voice rumbled against her back.

  “It has to be,” she said. “I can’t lose you now.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “General Battarq will see you.”

  “About damn time,” Kepp heard Red mutter under his breath.

  The leather of the chairs creaked as three men rose simultaneously. Following the general’s aide down a long corridor, their boots clacked on the hard stone floor. Kepp hoped he could keep Wat and Redd from jumping down the general’s throat. More than that, he hoped his friends could keep him from doing worse. They’d been held in isolation at an outpost deep in the mountains for three solid months with no ne
ws of the conflict, no news of events at the World Court, and, most important, no news whatsoever of Lira. He thought he’d go crazy with worry.

  That night on the beach, they’d been forced into their own heli-jet, leaving her in the hands of the Zealots. Kepp’s only consolation was the knowledge that those troops were sworn to protect her. He, Wat, and Red had no choice but to leave her and return to Khubuk. Nobody wanted a bloodbath with Lira caught in the middle.

  The past months had taken their toll on each of them. The normally garrulous Wat had grown serious and circumspect. He ran miles every day and watched vids of Zhinshu until late into the night, studying the country’s history and culture and attempting to learn the dialect of the Zealots.

  Red practiced his weapons training with an intensity Kepp had never before seen. While Wat had lost weight, Red had added muscle to his lanky frame. Like Wat, Red, too, seemed more serious. Gone was the ready smile, that winning, toothy grin that lit up his entire face.

  Kepp wondered what he looked like to his friends. He’d been moody, touchy, spoiling for a fight, desperate for news, aching deep down in his gut for a woman he feared he’d never see again. Despite the fact that they weren’t superstitious, the men had avoided discussing Lira, fearing that the mention of her name would attract the evil eye. Kepp worried she’d been sicker than he thought. What if she’d died or been imprisoned for consorting with the enemy? He didn’t think he could bear it. He was desperate to see her lovely face, feel the silk of her skin beneath his fingers, taste her sweetness, hear her melodic voice with his own ears.

  The hesitation he’d felt about sharing her with Wat and Red had long since vanished. In the forty-eight hours they’d spent together, he’d fallen in love with her. He wanted the woman any way he could get her. Given the chance, the four of them would make it work. Kepp had come to realize he would give anything for that opportunity.

  This morning, they’d been rousted out of bed well before dawn, ordered to shower, shave, and put on their dress uniforms. They’d been ushered aboard a private government jet and flown to Issi, the capital city of Khubuk.

  The aide stopped before an open doorway. He turned aside and, with the word, “Gentlemen,” ushered them over the threshold. He closed the door behind them, leaving them alone with the head of the ruling junta.

  General Battarq was a tall, slender, very pretty man. Kepp had trained with him years before in hand-to-hand combat, and he knew that beneath the attractive, almost-feminine exterior lay a formidable intellect and an iron will. Even when beaten in a training fight, the man had refused to submit. He’d stepped in when the president and his entire cabinet had been assassinated in a series of bomb blasts by separatists. Most citizens were grateful and relieved when Battarq brought about an end to a period of chaos, economic disarray, and bloodshed. The general had single-handedly restored order. Government institutions had resumed their normal functions, and the rule of law once again prevailed. The general had pledged to step aside and hold free elections in two years. Kepp took the man at his word. He’d always thought of the general as an honorable man which made him wonder why in the hell they’d been kept in seclusion.

  “Gentlemen, thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”

  Kepp saw Red open his mouth. He caught his friend’s eye and shook his head. He would take the lead. If Red got started, Kepp might not be able or even willing to stop him. Taking the hint, Red closed his mouth and sat.

  “How is she? Where is she? Why the hell did you send us into the mountains when we should have been with Lira?”

  A small smile tugged at a corner of Battarq’s mouth. “The princess is well. She has recovered from her pneumonia.” Kepp began to interrupt, but the general held up a hand. “It was not the near-drowning that caused it, although I imagine that didn’t help. The pneumonia was the result of rib fractures sustained before you arrived at Land’s End.”

  Wat exploded out of his chair. “Goddamn, Speth.”

  “Please, Mr. Watso, sit. Give me a moment to explain my actions.”

  Without comment, Kepp folded his arms across his chest and stared into the general’s eyes. His two friends followed suit.

  Battarq tapped his keyboard, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Perhaps it would be better to show you.” He motioned to the high-def screen mounted on the wall above his head. “This official statement was released by the High Council of Zhinshu last night.” His index finger clicked a key.

  For a few seconds, all Kepp saw was static. A Zhinshu news reporter appeared on the screen, a portable mic in her hand. “Today, the High Council announced that they have rescinded the death penalty in absentia that was leveled upon the three Khubuk soldiers alleged to have kidnapped Lira Patan, former heir to the throne of Zhinshu.”

  Former heir? Death penalty in absentia?

  “Following moving testimony by the princess, and after considering the pleas from the government of Khubuk, the Supreme Court dropped all charges against the three men.”

  “After his recent arrest, Khubuk’s former Secretary of Banking and Commerce, Tuth Regnan, was handed over to the Zealots for trial. The man admitted to the kidnapping of the princess. His signed confession will be published in tomorrow’s newspapers. The execution of the traitor was carried out today by firing squad. The government of Khubuk declined to file any sort of protest with the World Court.”

  “This afternoon, General Battarq issued a formal apology to the princess, the royal family, and the entire nation of Zhinshu. King Patan’s press secretary informed our office just moments ago that the Zealots have been recalled from the borders, trade negotiations between Zhinshu and Khubuk have reopened, and travel restrictions between the two nations have been lifted.” Battarq clicked the vid screen off.

  Kepp, Wat, and Red exchanged puzzled glances. “Former heir to the throne?” asked Kepp. “You still haven’t told us where she is.”

  The general walked out from behind his desk and leaned his long body against the polished wood. He faced the three men, amusement in his eyes.

  “When Lira Patan was released from the hospital, she demanded to be reunited with her three chosen consorts. The High Council refused and put a price on your heads, a very high price, I might add. In retaliation, the princess abdicated her position as heir to the throne, and she sent a representative to request asylum in Khubuk.”

  “Well, fuck me,” mumbled Wat.

  Battarq smiled. “Concerned for her safety, as I was for yours,” the general nodded at the men, “King Patan spirited her off to his private retreat in the Raspat Mountains. She’s remained there in seclusion, under heavy guard, while the High Council has considered the king’s strongly-worded request.”

  “What was that request?” Red drawled.

  “The king insisted that the fathers of his grandchild be granted dual citizenship.”

  “When do we leave?” growled Kepp.

  “I received word early this morning.” At last the guarded expression fell from the general’s face. He laughed out loud. “The binding ceremony takes place tonight, and the princess will be restored to her throne. This is a first in the bloody history of our two nations. Make sure it’s not the last.” He grinned at the men. “Well done, gentlemen, well done.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  As the government jet taxied toward the gate, Lira lifted her skirts and, in a very unprincess-like way, sprinted onto the tarmac, bodyguards hot in pursuit. The door opened and three tall, strong men stood at the top of the stairs. They were the most beautiful sight she’d ever laid eyes on. Lira hoped one day soon her countrymen would know Redda Till, Cer Watso, and Tanner Kepp as she knew them.

  The three men shoved their way down the stairs, smiles wide, eyes twinkling. Reaching the tarmac, they stopped and opened their arms to her. With complete abandon, Lira threw herself into their warm embrace. The three hellish months spent in limbo were forgotten in an instant. Lira felt hands on the small swell of her belly while three sets of lips vie
d for possession of her mouth. Tonight she would be with them. The feverish words she’d uttered on the beach months ago returned to her. Yes, Tanner would take her from behind. He would be the first to have her. Then she remembered her conversation with Red about bedposts and silk scarves. Lira shivered with pleasure.

  One to guard the right hand, one to guard the left hand, and one to guard the back, always.

  “I love you,” Lira murmured, her mouth responding to each man in turn.

  “We love you,” said Red, his lips on hers. He lifted his head and grinned at her. “Be careful what you wish for, Princess. You’re stuck with us.”

  “Hey,” Wat whispered in her ear, “I don’t suppose you have one of those huge bathtubs, do you?”

  Lira glanced at his face and caught his mischievous wink. She burst out laughing. Before she could catch her breath, she found herself swept up into Tanner’s arms.

  “Don’t let these two idiots fool you.” A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Me first, and they know it. I love you, Lira Patan.” He carried her to the waiting motorcade, and the four climbed inside the royal limousine.

  When Wat raised the privacy screens, no one uttered a word of protest.

  THE END

  http://juliarachelbarrett.net

  Glossary

  Ouroboros – one is the all, a snake biting its tail, an ancient symbol of infinity.

  The Zealots – the hordes massed on the border of the Central States of Kuhbak – they are attacking as they believe the junta has kidnapped their princess, oldest child and daughter of their king, King Pakan.

  Perdi – personal communication device

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Julia Rachel Barrett writes both fiction and nonfiction. Her favorite genres to read and write are romance/suspense and science fiction romance. She can now add ménage to that list. She and her husband live in Northern California with their three children, new German shepherd puppy, assorted cats, and two talkative parrots. She loves to hear from her readers.