Who in the hell was shooting at him?
Pinned down, he could do nothing but wait until the gunfire stopped.
With a sudden whoosh, someone opened his driver's side door. Mattias twisted the gun around, ready to fire.
Chayton loomed in the doorway, black ponytail swinging over his shoulder. He used the side of his hand to block the muzzle of Mattias's gun, slanting it away from his face. He said, “I got the driver. He's got accomplices out here somewhere, too. Can't see them in the dark.”
Mattias, recognizing Chayton's silhouette against the night, climbed out of the Mustang, staying low. “So that's who was shooting at me. Did you kill the driver?”
Chayton, crouched with his gun at the ready, using the Mustang as a shield, gave Mattias room to disembark. He checked the sides of the road with quick glances. “No, I maimed him.”
Mattias, also using the cars as cover, broke into a run for the Jaguar. Heart in his throat that Alannah might have inadvertently been hit in the cross fire, he yanked open the passenger door. Shaking, terrified, Alannah brought her hands down from her face and peered aside at Mattias. Her eyes were huge behind the mask. Tape covered her lips, preventing her from screaming or speaking.
Across the car, the driver slumped against the wheel, alive but bleeding badly from a shoulder.
“Are you all right?” Aware there were still shooters hiding nearby, Mattias remained crouched between the door and the car. He tucked his weapon away for the moment.
Alannah ripped half the tape from her mouth with a whimper, wrists still bound. “I'm not hit. Why did he try to take me away? How did you know where to find me?”
Mattias tugged at the tape on her delicate wrists, sparing only one fast glance toward the roadside. Although he knew Chayton was covering him, Mattias half expected to see bulky shadows lurking there, guns aimed at his head.
“I'll explain later.” Mattias threw the spent tape to the floorboards. “Can you walk?”
Peeling the mask off her face, Alannah dropped it onto the console and leaned toward Mattias. Away from the driver. As if she couldn't stand to sit there one second longer. “Yes.”
From the direction of the open gates, Mattias saw a gunmetal gray SUV pull onto the road and swerve toward the Mustang. He saw Chayton intercept, recognized Ahsan when the man got out of the vehicle. Catching Alannah's hands in his, Mattias said, “All right. Here's what we're going to do. You're going to stay with me while we go around the front of the car toward that one over there. The SUV. See it?”
Alannah spared a quick glance. “I see it.”
“We have to stay low. Duck your head and move as quick as you can.” Mattias pulled his weapon free, took Alannah by the hand, and after a gesture toward Chayton and Ahsan, led Alannah around the nose of the Jaguar. The most dangerous part was going into the open space between vehicles, where they were all but sitting ducks waiting to be picked off by sniper fire.
With Chayton and Ahsan both on the lookout, Mattias crossed the open space as fast as he could, which wasn't as fast as he wanted considering Alannah was in a slinky dress and high heels, but they made it without being shot at.
“I think it's in her best interest, for now, if you get her out of here,” Ahsan said as soon as Mattias and Alannah were in hearing range. “We'll take Morano aside and fill him in. As much as we can, anyway.”
“I agree. Question the driver before the police arrive and see what information he'll give you. When Leander gets back--” Mattias ducked as three shots split the night. Crack, crack, crack. Alannah whimpered and huddled closer to Mattias.
With a sudden flurry, Ahsan pushed Mattias and Alannah inside the SUV while Chayton opened fire on the hillside.
Scrambling over the seat and console, squawking in protest, Alannah managed to get to the passenger's side in one piece. Mattias fared better, since he didn't have as far to go.
“What the hell? Get her out of here.” Ahsan closed the door with a bang.
Mattias, relieved to see the SUV still running, put the vehicle in gear and stomped the gas. He trusted Chayton and Ahsan to get out of the way. Spinning the wheel in his hands, he steered around the other cars and sped away from the scene.
“Are you all right, Alannah?” Mattias asked for the second time in ten minutes.
“Yes. Yes, I think so,” she said with a shaky voice. Situating herself in the seat, she glanced back several times as if to see whether the other men survived the attack. “What's going on? Mattias, why are we being shot at?”
“Apparently, someone put a hit out on you. It's a long story better told when we're somewhere safe.” He needed to concentrate on the road. Where to go. And why someone else besides the driver had been shooting at them in the aftermath of the accident.
Rubbing her wrists, skin red from the duct tape, Alannah was about to pepper Mattias with more questions when he frowned into the rear view mirror. His face was a study of concentration, mouth pressed tight, a muscle flexing in his jaw. It was a look that instantly sent a shiver up her spine.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Put your seat belt on.” He picked up speed.
“Why?” She grabbed the seat belt as he accelerated into a turn and clicked the clasp into place. Just then, she heard the roar of another engine and cast a look back through the seats. Headlights flashed across the rear window, closing in fast. “Who is that?”
Mattias didn't answer. Hands gripping the wheel, he followed the long road leading away from the manor. The SUV took the curves at a dangerous speed until Mattias stomped the brakes and swung them into a hard turn.
Alannah braced her hands on the dash and the door, yelping when she thought the vehicle might tip over. But it was sturdier than that and whipped onto the new street only losing a little speed in the process.
“Mattias, what's going on?” She raised her voice, as if that might get her a faster answer.
“We're being followed. Keep your head down.”
“I know we're being followed. But by who? Why? My father always insisted this would never happen, despite the bodyguards and everything else.” Alannah, indignant that she might not know all there was to know about the safety of her family, glanced between the following car and the Prince's profile. Recovering from the shock of being kidnapped and shot at, her anger at the entire ordeal boiled over. Maybe, she thought to herself, anger was a byproduct, a reaction meant to help with self-preservation.
“Someone out for blood, that's who. I don't have the name of the driver of that car though, if that's what you're asking, or who the shooters are. I do know that Mumford Cleary was acting strangely at the manor. Does that name ring any bells with you?” He took a hard left, jaw clenched tight.
The vehicle behind fell back twenty yards, the back end fishtailing around the same corner.
Alannah could barely see the outline in the darkness and looked at Mattias again, absorbing the details. “Mumford Cleary? That bastard? He's got enough dirt in his own backyard--”
“So the name does mean something to you.”
“I know he and my father got into an argument a few months back. Dad wouldn't ever tell me what it was about, only that Cleary was holding a grudge and being difficult. If you'll just get me to a phone, I'll call my fa--”
“He can't help you right now. I can help you. In this moment, you're going to have to trust that I can get you somewhere safe.” The tuxedo jacket pulled taut across the muscles of his shoulders and back when he turned the wheel left or right.
“And how do I know that you're not one of them? That you're actually taking me somewhere dangerous?” Alannah knew it was a churlish question the second she asked it. And the hard look Mattias leveled at her proved he thought so, too.
“Because you'd already be dead if that were the case,” he said.
“Which brings me to another question. Why are you here? You're a Prince for crying out loud. Where are your bodyguards? Shouldn't you be sipping champagne at that party and fli
rting with girls?” Under stress, Alannah wasn't known for patience or kindness. Her waspish tongue got her into more trouble than was necessary. Yet she couldn't tamp down the pulsing fear that rampaged through her system, obliterating the filter between her brain and her mouth.
He laughed. The dark kind of laugh that a person makes when they're on the verge of being pushed too far. Alannah could only guess what Mattias was like when he'd been brought to the brink. The classy, quiet Prince seemed capable of becoming someone else entirely judging by that laugh alone. Once again, she had the sense that she'd misjudged him. The way he handled himself, the car, her, suggested he had practice in this kind of thing. Odd, considering his status.
Twisting in the seat, she saw the headlights of the chase car had fallen back a half mile or more. The reason wasn't immediately clear. Maybe Ahsan had caught up to the vehicle, or it had a flat tire.
Taking two hard right turns, Mattias raced through a stop sign, across a bridge and into a sleepy, small town with one main street. Although signs of the storm were prevalent everywhere—puddles, scattered debris, a knocked down fence—the rain had come to a halt here as well. The power was on, a relief in their current circumstances.
Another few turns put them behind an old hotel with intricate, Spanish architecture and a buzzing neon sign out front that flickered every now and then. Mattias parked next to an outbuilding that looked like an old garage and cut the engine. Dousing the lights, he opened the door and got out. “Let's go.”
Alannah put her questions on hold for now. Exiting the vehicle, she picked her way around the back, avoiding as many puddles as she could. The sultry night felt oppressive against her skin, the scent of fresh rain mingling with damp asphalt.
Just before they reached a back door, Mattias paused to button the tuxedo coat across the front, hiding the holster and gun. Running his fingers through his hair, he glanced at her eyes, then opened the door to allow her in first.
Alannah didn't need to be told that Mattias was unhappy with her. She wasn't exactly enthralled with him at the moment, either. There were too many unanswered questions in her mind. Such as how he'd known where to find her, and how he'd known about a possible hit on her person. Why a Prince of all people would know those things was beyond her.
Stepping inside, she hesitated long enough for Mattias to come in behind her, then take the lead. A narrow hallway led forward toward the front of the hotel, with several doors leading off to separate rooms along the way. The faded décor inside needed upgrading, as did the rest of the hotel.
Falling in at his flank, Alannah followed him to the far end of the hall, which spilled over into a small foyer and reception area. At the desk, a clerk stood up from his chair, appearing surprised to see them arrive via the back hallway. Pleasant natured, he smiled nevertheless and engaged Mattias when the Prince approached the counter.
Alannah shouldn't have been surprised when Mattias broke into fluent Spanish. He conversed easily with the clerk, paying for a room with money he fished from an inside pocket of his coat. Alannah was astute enough to know that Mattias had paid the clerk extra, probably to keep their presence there a secret. Key in hand, Mattias stepped away from the counter toward a staircase ascending to higher floors. After a quick smile to the clerk, Alannah fell into step behind Mattias once more. Following his lead to the third floor, she paused with the Prince outside a room with chipped gold numbers tacked to the wall. 44. It would do.
Mattias used the key in the lock, and swung the door open, indicating she should go first. His attention hit several points in the hall, always watchful, perhaps a little wary that someone might have tracked them inside.
Alannah discovered the room to be much smaller than she was used to. The carpets were a dull mustard yellow, clean but old, and the bed looked too flat and square to be comfortable. A desk against one wall had to be straight out of the seventies judging by the design, with a thick, ungainly television sitting on top.
Mattias closed the door and engaged both locks. Dragging a chair over, he jutted the straight back under the knob until it creaked from the pressure.
Alannah watched the precise way Mattias moved, the surety of his movements. This was a man used to taking charge, used to being in control.
“Now what?” she asked.
Mattias stripped the tuxedo coat from his shoulders, then faced her. “We wait.”
Chapter Eight
Standing at the window staring out at the darkness, Mattias braced himself for the questions he knew were coming. What he really wanted to do was pace the room and work off the left over adrenaline that was making him agitated and restless. Holding his place, he glanced across the hotel room to Alannah. Without the mask, he got a better look at the carefully applied make up around her eyes and on her cheeks. He remembered the red on her lips from earlier at the party, gone now thanks to the nervous nibbling of her teeth. Hair mussed from flight and struggle, she was still a sight to behold in her slinky, glittery dress. At some point, she'd peeled off the gloves, exposing trembling fingers. And he could tell from her pensive, stubborn expression that she wanted answers.
“What are we waiting for, exactly?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“For the power to come back on at Morano's, or daylight, whichever comes first.”
“How will you know the power is on?”
“Because I intend to test Ahsan and Chayton's phones repeatedly throughout the night. At some point, they'll remember to plug them in if the power comes back. Barring that, I'll call the house line until I get a dial tone, then find a different phone to contact them from.”
“Chayton. That's the long haired man?”
“Yes.”
“You three seemed to work quite well together.”
Mattias said nothing. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window. The straps of the shoulder holster fit snug against his body, reminding him constantly of the weapon in its sheath.
“I said, you three--”
“I heard you. But it wasn't a question, was it?” As hard as he tried to curb the bite in his reply, a sharp edge remained. The echo of her earlier accusations and snarky remarks still felt like barbs under his skin, irritating and annoying.
“Well, then let me be more direct. How was it that the three of you happened to be in the right place, at the right time? And how in the world did you know there was a possible hit out on me?”
“All you need to know is that I was where I needed to be. Information on the hit circulated through the ranks, and I'm not the type of man who closes his ears when an innocent person might be in danger.” Mattias stuck as close to the truth as he could without giving the Royal Elite away. He couldn't explain their secret sect of men and their mission to keep those of their stature out of harms way. A group had formed within the Elite citizens of the world, a group that had grown and flourished through the years. Mattias, Ahsan, Chayton and many others were in unique positions to garner information normal police and security couldn't get their hands on. It allowed them to act in advance of an assassination or a kidnapping, to try and save a life. Most of the time they were successful. Sometimes, they were not.
How did he explain the rest? The thrill he got from the job? The rush, the adrenaline fix that was unlike any other. Ahsan, Chayton and Leander craved it as much as he did. One glance at Alannah's face assured him that she wasn't buying his explanation.
“That's pretty convenient, hm?” she said.
“It was lucky. That's what it was.”
“It's obvious something else is going on here. You're armed, and so were your friends. You just happen to work seamlessly together, like you've all done this before.”
“In my country, my brothers and I have trained extensively for battle. This is not that different.” Which also wasn't a lie; Mattias and his brothers had spent hours and hours training in all manner of weaponry. When a crisis arose in his home country of Latvala, Mattias, Sander, Gunnar and Paavo went out with the troop
s, armed and ready to defend.
“Really.” Alannah didn't sound like she believed him.
“Yes, really. When you get home, maybe you can do some research on it.” Mattias wasn't about to list the names of the men involved in the group just to appease Alannah's curiosity. She'd already seen Chayton and Ahsan in action.
“That's not fair,” she said, a note of complaint in her voice.
“No one ever said life was fair,” he said, reminding her of the old saying most children learned before leaving elementary school. Mattias, however, had learned it from his father. And not under the best circumstances.
“Prince Mattias.” The emphasis she added to his name smacked of exasperation.
“Why don't you tell me about you? For instance, why you're so fidgety in public.” Turning the tables, he glanced away from the window, anticipating her reaction. And her reply. She looked down at her hands, then the floor.
“I'm just not comfortable in public.”
“There has to be a reason. Your father seems the extrovert sort. What happened to you?”
“Some people just don't like the spotlight. I realize for a Prince, that might be difficult to comprehend.”
“But that's not all that's up with you, is it? There's more.” Mattias couldn't have said why he knew there was more she wasn't saying. Perhaps it was the way she'd started to fidget, or the downcast set of her eyes. She couldn't, or wouldn't, meet his gaze. Then, after several strained minutes, she began to speak. Voice low and soft.
“You're right, he's an extrovert. My father, that is. But as a child, I was shy, more like my mother than him. He couldn't tolerate it, didn't want me to wind up being 'a shadow', as he called it. When I was three, he began a campaign to expose me to situations he thought would help me get over my shy nature. He would stage elaborate get-togethers where I was the center of attention, put me on camera, arrange commercials, left me with groups of strangers. At least they were strangers to me. Of course he knew these people very well, he would never endanger me, but that didn't matter. He sought to get me to perform, which I hated with a passion. Sing, dance, the works. I didn't mind those things if I was with immediate family or alone, just not in front of large crowds. The longer he pushed me, the more I retreated to things I loved more.”
The Royal Elite: Mattias Page 9