“You don’t,” Keira said. “All you have is my word.”
The youth considered her for a long drawn-out moment. “I know you. Seen you in market. You don’t pay, I find.”
“Agreed,” Keira said. “Would you like me to show you how to hotwire? I have the knack. My mother taught me.”
“You know how?” The Red Mumber’s red-brown brows rose, broadcasting doubt.
“Yes.” Deciding to take a chance, she holstered her weapon and entered the transport. Seconds later the hum of the flymo highlighted her expertise.
“Sweet,” the second youth said.
The Red Mumber glanced left then right. “Where your friends?”
“Fly around to the front of the soldiers’ base. We might need your help. The injured man is big.”
“Cat?” the Red Mumber asked.
“Yes, but he’s too injured to shift.”
“I come with,” the Red Mumber said. “Nasir will bring flymo to the door front.”
“Thanks,” Keira said and hustled back in the direction she’d come with the Red Mumber youth on her heels. She leaped over a pile of masonry without breaking stride and pushed through the door of the soldiers’ base.
“I’m back,” Keira called. “I’ve brought help.”
“This be Ellard,” the Red Mumber said, turning his accusing gaze on her then sharing his disquiet with Jarlath. “He important.”
“He’s my friend,” Jarlath said. “What’s your name?”
“Ollie,” the Red Mumber said.
“How is he?” Keira asked.
“He’s passed out from the pain. A blessing.” Jarlath rubbed his eyes and stood, his posture slumped. “I’ve stopped the bleeding but the blaster fire has disintegrated the bone. I’ve done all I can. He needs a healer.”
“I help carry to flymo. Nasir out front now. Waiting,” Ollie said.
A shout sounded outside.
Keira stiffened. “I’ll go and make sure no one steals our transport.”
The shouts were closer now, propelling her to speed. She burst from the office, blaster raised to fire.
“It’s some of those dudes in red cloaks,” Nasir whispered. “This not good. Saw some blow up. They be walkin’ bombs.”
“Get ready to take off. The others are coming.” Keira watched uneasily as the men in red marched closer.
Jarlath and Ollie appeared, the two struggling with Ellard’s weight. Keira hurried to help.
A chill wind tugged at her hair, at her cloak and fear rushed to the fore. “Quick. A storm is coming.” A rush of rain had swept over earlier, when the last explosions occurred. Coincidence? She didn’t think so.
The men in red advanced, their robes blowing back to reveal the uniform of Viros soldiers. Keira gasped. She didn’t know how Razvan had managed to turn loyal men to his cause. The rain came closer and the wind whipped her hair and the hem of her cloak. Hard drops of rain stung her cheeks. Sparks started to flash off the men in red.
“Hurry,” she shouted.
They managed to half-drag and lift Ellard into the flymo and scrambled after him. Nasir sent the flymo into a vertical lift, rising so fast her stomach remained on the ground. She gulped and Jarlath’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“We’ll make it,” he whispered against her ear.
“I feel as if I have bruises on bruises. Every bone in my body is throbbing.” She glanced at Ellard’s pale, still body and winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t complain when others have it worse than me.”
Jarlath kissed her temple, the kiss as soft as his fur. “It’s been some day. Most women of my acquaintance would moan about the state of their hair, the ones who didn’t faint.”
“You don’t know the right women.”
“I do now,” he whispered.
She held the compliment close to her heart, his personal opinion of her raising her flagging spirits. Ellard moaned, but didn’t wake.
“Jarlath, the men in red were Viros soldiers. I saw their uniforms when the wind blew up their cloaks. How has this happened?”
Jarlath crouched to check on his friend before rising again. “It tastes of magic. Somehow we need to stop the spell or reflect it back to the source.”
“I can’t see where I’m going,” Nasir shouted. “The rain is too heavy.”
“Keep going up,” Jarlath ordered.
“Aye,” Ollie said, his brown eyes wide and wild. “Plan.”
An explosion rocked the ground below them. A ripple of shockwave shook the flymo, and Nasir struggled to keep their vehicle on course, his wiry arms fighting the gravity pull. Finally, the flymo ceased the metallic shudders and leveled.
“Sky is clearing,” Nasir said. “Damn, most of the lower city is rubble.”
Keira glanced out the clear window and saw he was right. “Might be safer to take Ellard out to the farm.”
“We should try the medical center first,” Jarlath said. “If they can’t save his arm, they’ll have a surgeon to remove it. We can’t do that.”
Keira shuddered and studied the city below. “Someone needs to take control.”
“I intend to,” Jarlath said. “Just as soon as we get Ellard to a safe place.”
“The medical center be in one piece,” Ollie said.
“I be doing circle first,” Nasir said. “No point landing in the midst of those red fukkers.”
“Why did they put a protective barrier around the castle?” Jarlath asked.
Keira tried not to think of the possible scenarios. They popped into her head anyway. “Maybe Razvan wanted to keep the castle intact. Maybe he wants to live there or maybe he’s keeping the residents safe to make an example of them at a later time.”
“Whatever he’s doing, I don’t like it,” Jarlath said. “By destroying the lower city, he’s sliced the legs from the kingdom. Economically, at least. It will take time to rebuild, and the king and the council won’t fund the rebuild. It shames me to admit this, but it’s the truth.”
“What you know of fancy pants at castle?” Ollie demanded.
Keira saw Nasir’s attention divided, proving his interest in the answer.
Jarlath hesitated. “Ellard lives at the castle.”
“He security for royal prince,” Nasir said. “How you know Ellard?”
“He’s my best friend,” Jarlath said.
“What about her?” Ollie asked, the sharp jerk of his shoulder disturbing his dreads.
“She’s my woman,” Jarlath said.
“You live at castle?” Nasir asked.
“No,” Keira said. “I live on a farm.”
Nasir and Ollie glanced at each other. “It be safe?”
“So far,” Keira said. “We intend to take Ellard there after we get medical treatment. You could come with us if you want.”
The two youths exchanged a look.
“Maybe,” Ollie said. “You still owe us currency.”
“Yes,” Keira said.
“I land over there in park. Only clear space,” Nasir said.
It took three of them to haul Ellard to the medical center.
“I go back to flymo. To keep safe,” Ollie said. “We wait unless dangerous.” With a wave, he ran out the door.
“They didn’t recognize me,” Jarlath said, and there was something odd in his tone. “They live in the city and they didn’t recognize the heir to the throne. What does that say about the royal family? About me? We’re so busy living in the castle fortress we’ve lost touch with our people. We were ripe for attack.”
“It’s never too late to change,” Keira said.
“Maybe. Watch Ellard. I’ll find a medical man.”
He stalked off, agitation clear in his rigid shoulders. Her gaze slid down his back to settle on his butt, and she sighed. The more she knew of this man, the more she liked him. Jarlath disappeared around a corner and returned a short time later with an impatient man in tow.
“I have patients to attend to,” he snapped, his tanned face pulled tight
into a glare. “You have no right to drag me from my patients.”
Jarlath trailed, his gaze watchful as if he suspected the man might run for freedom. He reminded Keira of a forest wolf stalking dinner.
“Please take a look,” Keira said. “We’ve stopped the bleeding but his arm is bad.”
The man crouched beside Ellard. “This is Ellard. Why didn’t you say? Go and summon two stretcher boys. Tell them to bring a big cart. Tell them Moses said to shift their butts into haste.”
Jarlath strode off to summon stretcher boys.
“What happened?” the medicine man demanded.
Keira crouched beside him. “Blaster at close quarters.”
“He’s going to lose the arm. Shifting won’t help this,” the man said.
“Do your best,” Keira said.
Jarlath returned and must have overheard. “Please do your best for him, medicine man. Do what you need to do and make him comfortable for travel.”
“He’ll stay here,” the man said. “That’s Ellard.”
“I’m aware of his identity,” Jarlath said. “Ellard is my best friend, and I intend to care for him.”
Whatever the man saw in Jarlath’s face reassured him. He gave a curt nod. “We’re short of staff. I’ll need help. You can both scrub and aid me during the amputation.”
Keira’s stomach roiled and not in a good way. She reached for Jarlath’s hand and squeezed in silent comfort while ordering herself to deal. There was no alternative.
Chapter Eleven
House of Cawdor, Planet Gramite
Razvan paced the confines of his private chamber, a knifelike pain in his side. Fukk. He pressed his fingers to the ache and muttered under his breath.
His personal servant poked his head in the door. “Did you require something?”
“Leave me.” Nagging worry stirred Razvan’s temper, and his servant retreated, knowing better than to tangle with him in this mood. Something had happened to Marjo or Mareeka, but the surface of his private scrying bowl remained cloudy.
Fukk it! Frustration tasted cold and dangerous on his tongue. He hated not knowing what was happening on Viros. Marjo and Mareeka’s lack of contact put him off-balance, made him doubt the next step in his plan.
He stalked to his scrying bowl and peered into the surface in the hope something had changed. “Grata!” he cursed after long moments presented nothing but dull fog.
His women were clever. Tough. They were chameleon shifters and soldiers. He laughed, the sound forced but heartfelt. His lovers could do anything and would come through for him. Of that, he was confident.
They’d introduced the bacteria to the food supply, rendering a large portion of the feline population unable to shift—a fact the House of the Cat had kept quiet but he knew was successful because of Marjo and Mareeka’s confirmation. With the help of the wizards, he’d created the magical barrier around the castle, one only penetrable by those of Cawdor blood, and they’d taken control of the lower guard station and turned the soldiers into mobile bombs.
Each of these steps had gone without a hitch, and there was no reason for this next phase to fail. He was worrying overmuch. Yes, Marjo and Mareeka would have matters under control while preparing for his arrival on Viros. Meantime, instead of worrying, he’d focus on the next part of his plan.
He intended to make an example of Keira, but first, he needed to locate the woman. She wasn’t lighting fires or using appliances that harnessed flames, which presented a problem.
He needed a storm.
He needed cold weather.
He needed freezing conditions, which would make fire a necessity because Virosians clung to their old ways instead of embracing technology.
A knock on his door signaled a visitor, and his mother hopped into his private quarters.
“How goes the plan, Razvan?” she chirped, her face radiating curiosity. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me now.”
“My plan is moving as predicted,” Razvan said, striving for patience. “Where is Carrick? I require his help.”
“Com him,” his mother said. “Com. Com. Com him.”
“It would help if you located him, Mother,” Razvan said. “Please do this for me.”
Her narrow lips formed a pout, incongruous on her lined face. She studied him for an instant longer then gave a little jump. “I find him. I find. I find.”
Razvan held his breath until she hopped from his rooms. Once she’d vanished, he strode to his door and locked it to prevent another interruption. He needed to concentrate in order to make this a big magnitude storm.
He smiled, and this time the action felt more natural.
Keira Cloud would pay for rejecting him.
And her adopted world would pay for giving her shelter.
Of that, he was confident.
* * * * *
Jarlath stared at Ellard, now in a medically induced coma to speed healing. Despite, medical advice, they’d brought him to Keira’s farm and now they waited for Ellard to rouse.
Keira tugged his arm. “Jarlath, the medical man said Ellard won’t resurface until morn. You need to rest. Hortese said she’d sleep on the other bed and keep watch over him. Please, you can’t help Ellard or your people if you don’t rest.”
His people. A bitter laugh escaped. “None of my people recognize me. They know Ellard, but not me. That tells me I’ve been a miserable prince. Yes, I attend official functions, but they’re for the upper class.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t productive,” Keira said. “You want the people to recognize you, then take charge and send Razvan off squawking.”
Her blunt words made him laugh, the sound emerging with ease this time. “You’re right, sweetheart. Sleep now, worry later. In the morn, Ellard will regain consciousness. He’s going to be pissed we saved his life.”
“The loss of his arm will be a blow. You’ll need to distract him. Put him in charge of the battle plan. Ask Cristop, Nasir and Ollie to act as his assistants. Maybe if you chuck orders at him and don’t let him think, he’ll feel useful. The meds will keep his pain under control. We need to keep his mind busy, and I think this will speed his healing.”
“Clever and pretty. When did I get so lucky?” Jarlath reached for her and tipped up her chin in order to steal a kiss. She melted against him, giving and taking in equal measure. His heart swelled as he explored her mouth, took the kiss deeper.
“Right, enough from the pair of you,” Hortese said. “Off to bed with you. I will watch Master Ellard. The min he wakes, I’ll call you.”
Jarlath pulled back but retained Keira’s hand. He walked to Hortese and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
Hortese flushed, her pink skin burning even brighter. “I’m happy to help. Now off to bed.”
“You’ve won her heart,” Keira said as she led him up the stairs to the second floor of the manor house. “And she’s no pushover. If you can win Hortese, you can win the rest of the population.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Nothing worthwhile is simple but you can do this, Jarlath.”
He hoped she was right because the last few days had shown him how badly his father was failing the Virosian people and him, by extension.
Keira led him into her chamber. “You will sleep with me.”
“Yes.” His feline rumbled a soft purr of encouragement.
Keira slid a knife from her boot and placed it on the dresser before she sat to remove her footwear.
“Let me do that for you.” Cristo, she was beautiful. His warrior. He pushed the button to release the snaps on her boots and tugged them off her feet. Next, he removed her tunic and the rest of her garments until she stood before him, naked. “I want you, but I don’t want to hurt you. You have bruises on your hip and more on your legs.”
“I’m alive. We’re both alive. Others weren’t so lucky.”
“I know. Wait, let me remove the plaster from your face.” He peeled the dressing away and traced the crow tattoo
with his finger. She shuddered. Jarlath smiled at the reaction and turned his attention to his own apparel. He yanked at his footwear and hopped around like an ungainly bird while removing his boots.
“I haven’t thanked you for talking me through the change from crow to humanoid. I…it was terrifying. Actually.” Her smile bore a trace of irony. “That’s an understatement.”
Jarlath paused, his hands at his tunic. “You had no idea you could shift?”
“No, the medical men on Gramite said it was impossible. Only full breeds are able to transform.”
“Shifting might come in handy for you,” Jarlath said.
“Maybe. I didn’t realize the transformation hurt so much. You and Ellard make the process appear effortless.”
“We’ve both been shifting for cycles. It becomes second nature.” Jarlath pulled his tunic over his head and rapidly removed the rest of his clothes. Nude, he strode to Keira, his chest tight with emotion. “I’m so glad I decided to take a different path during our cambeest ride. Meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
She ran her fingers over the stubble on his cheeks. “Come to bed. Make love to me.”
He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed the delicate skin of her inner wrist. Their gazes meshed, and he was lost.
Their lips met and he swung her into his arms. He placed her on the large bed and crawled over her body. Softness and hardness pressed together. She sighed and clung, offering her lips again.
He explored her breasts, her waist, ran his fingers over the smooth skin of her belly. He nibbled at her neck and let her feel the sharpness of his canines before soothing the sting with the caress of his tongue.
“You are beautiful and strong. My warrior,” he said.
She ran her fingers over his back, let one hand come to rest on his butt. She sighed and made tiny caw-caw sounds at the back of her throat. His feline rejoiced in the encouragement and purred louder than Jarlath had ever heard before.
He urged her legs apart and moved down the bed to taste the heart of her. His tongue curled around her clit and she shivered.
“Good?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Her taste was honey and sweetness, and her quim quivered when he pushed a finger inside her heat. She was hot and ready for him and it made him feel powerful and yet humble. There was no pretense here, no pandering to him because he was a royal prince, and that made their loving even more special.
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