Bastian

by Piper Collins

  “She overheard us yesterday at the cathedral when you were bitching about Luna; she thought you maybe meant her. I told her the truth,” he reassured me.

  “Shit!” I yelled. Needing some outlet for my energy, I ran my hands through my hair until my scalp was sore.

  Remy looked at me sympathetically. He filled me in on the image Alana had seen of Luna and the scarred man, and additionally what Nikola had commented on during their chat at the castle.

  “Do you think it’s a power play?” he asked. “A ploy to eliminate Arik, have you take the throne and then Luna slip in as the future queen? She’s always been a clingy cunt…”

  I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Whatever the motive, it doesn’t tell me where Alana is and why she hasn’t made it here yet.” I knew why she hadn’t made it; I just didn’t want to believe it.

  I tried her cell again and it went straight to voicemail.

  “Fuck. Pick up, love…” I was threatening to wear a hole in the cashmere rug with my pacing.

  “She said she’d call me when she was outside so I could let her in,” Remy said sounding guilty.

  Henri had stepped towards us, holding his hand out. “Your Majesty? Your phone, sir.” It was the most he had spoken in a single stretch of time, but I trusted him and handed it over all the same.

  I stood and watched, my hands on my hips as Henri inspected the phone and began to dismantle it. After a minute he held something small between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Tracking device,” he stated obviously.

  “They have Alana. We need to move. Now!” I made for the foyer, but Remy caught me by the shoulder, he and Henri sharing an unspoken look.

  It was Henri that spoke first, surprisingly. “With respect, Your Highness, we need a plan first.”

  Remy nodded in agreement. “We don’t know where she is, nor do we know who took her—it could’ve been that man Luna was seen with, or either one of them,” he explained. “Why don’t we just go to the police?”

  “No,” Henri and I said at the same time. “We don’t have that kind of time, plus, if they are in fact guilty, I don’t want the police interfering,” I told him.

  “Yet,” Henri supplied. Right.

  But I knew someone who’s interference could serve us a great deal.

  “Who are you calling now?” Remy asked incredulously.

  I was about to answer him when the phone picked up. “Stephan, hey I hate to be short, but can you be at my apartment in ten minutes?” I filled him on what we needed and he’d bring the equipment accordingly.

  Remy looked at me and crossed his arms. “Who’s Stephan?”

  “Former military buddy. He was a specialist and if anyone can pinpoint where Alana is, it’s Stephan,” I told them.

  “What kind of specialist?” Henri asked curiously, but for the first time, I detected that he felt rivaled.

  “Electronic Warfare Specialist.”

  “Sir,” he replied, full understanding as to why Stephan would be advantageous.

  As promised, Stephan showed in eight minutes, and I thought how fortuitous it was that the coffee shop was as close to my apartment as it was.

  He set a black tactical bag on the kitchen table, and unloaded a laptop and a few other pieces of equipment.

  “Keep all this in your trunk, do you?” I asked.

  “Nah, you know this shit is temp sensitive. It’s lucky I live above the coffee shop and merely had to run upstairs to grab it all,” he said smiling, absolutely comfortable in is element. “So, you mentioned a tracking device?”

  I handed it to him and he laughed. “Amateurs,” he quipped.

  “You’ll be able to pinpoint Alana’s location then?” Remy asked.

  “This is such an elementary device,” Stephan said admonishingly. “It’s linked back to an app and that will take me approximately less than a minute to hack, and then voila!”

  We had all inadvertently leaned over him as he began to work, curiosity getting the best of us all. As promised, forty-nine seconds later, Stephan had a grid map pulled up.

  “Looks to be at the castle,” he commented. He placed his finger on the screen, pointing to a circle with a smaller circle inside it. “Here. It’s not really on the grounds, though…” he murmured.

  Stephan was glued to the screen, zooming in as much as possible. I knew the castle like the back of my hand, but what I was looking at seemed foreign.

  “Can you pull it up on satellite imaging?” I asked.

  Seven key strokes later, I was looking at the stables and surrounding grounds. There was nothing there.

  Remy was not impressed. “It’s a bunch of nothing.”

  There was more to it, I just wasn’t seeing it yet. “There’s got to be something we’re missing,” I said.

  “Well, can you think of anything that either Luna or Nikola have said recently that would surmount to anything now?” Remy asked impatiently.

  I paced some more, burning off nervous energy while simultaneously racking my brain.

  The last time I had spoken to Nikola was the morning Alana and I flew home and went straight to the castle. He had been quiet and apologetic during his retelling of the accident, dealing with his own grief—he and father had been friends for most of their adult lives, so it was only natural for him to feel the loss just as deeply.

  Professional matters had been discussed in the following days, but nothing was of a personal nature; it purely revolved around the nation and me stepping into my new role.

  No, Nikola was a dead end. And if he did in fact have his hand in this, he had been neat and tidy in fastening the loose ends.

  Luna, on the other hand, was a different story. She thrived on talk, gossip and rumors. Even if she hadn’t been the one to light the spark, she surely fanned the flames, unsatisfied until they wreaked havoc on the ones involved.

  Outside of the funeral, I hadn’t seen nor spoken to her to since the Jubilee. I know that she and Alana had had words that night, but I had assumed it was due to jealousy on Luna’s part.

  As children, she and I had gotten along quite well, playing Prince and Princess and making believe. The castle was quite literally our playground, its old stone construction and turrets lending themselves to our games.

  One summer we had even discovered a separate stone building just past the secret garden that Alana and I had so salaciously used to our advantage. The stables ran parallel to the garden, well behind the castle, but this building was even further beyond the stables, off the beaten path.

  The building was some sort of old housing, perhaps used for stable hands and whatnot. It was small and quaint, and the perfect place for us to play in. There was only one window placed at the top of the heavy wooden door, so often times we would have to bring flashlights to illuminate the dimness, even if it was the middle of the day.

  As a child, the darkness held an air of danger and the illusion of magic. But alas, children grew out of their imaginations and then what was left in the stark light of day? What did it hold now?

  Seclusion, for one.

  A location we would never consider looking, secondly. And then I remembered Alana telling me during the Jubilee when she and Luna had exchanged words. She said Luna had been bragging about doing explicit things with me in various places, even at the castle no less.

  “They have her in there. In that little building,” I blurted, pointing to a rooftop that was the size of my pinky nail on the screen. I explained to the men my thoughts as my phone rang in my hand.

  I moved to silence it when I saw my mother’s name. I gave them both an I’ll just be a second look and answered.

  “Darling, I just wanted to wish you luck on your first official tour,” she said, as way of greeting.

  I hadn’t the foggiest notion on how to explain to her what was going on, when each passing minute could mean that harm was coming to Alana. So, I didn’t.

  “Thanks so much, Mother,” I said, searching for a way to kindly cut our c
onversation short.

  But I didn’t have to. “I have to run, darling, Nikola just got here.”

  Nikola? What the hell was he doing there now? He was supposed to have meetings all morning that coincided with my visiting the north province.

  “I love you, Bash.” And she hung up.

  An unease settled deep within me. Were they targeting mother next? Suddenly, I felt like everything was completely out of my control, and if we didn’t act soon, something terrible would happen—again.

  I looked at Henri, Remy and Stephan. “We need to go now,” I said hastily.

  “You’re sure of this?” Remy asked skeptically.

  “I’ll explain on the way,” I said, pushing the button for the lift already.

  Once in the garage, we loaded into the SUV and I turned to Henri. “Tell me you’re armed.”

  If you were to describe Henri, you could use words like stealthy, quiet and composed. It was a rare occurrence when he didn’t resemble an English Royal Guard, his face a mask of indifference.

  But now, an actual smile formed on his otherwise purse lips. “Tell me you’re not underestimating me. Sir.”

  Cheeky bastard.

  Chapter 18

  Bastian

  Henri deserved a raise and I intended to give it to him when this was all over. After finding the tracking device in my phone, I was more than pleased with his ability to form an airtight plan in under five minutes.

  What we deduced from the little we knew and the amount we assumed, Nikola and Luna had hired the scarred man to kill the king while framing one of the other hunters and had now abducted Alana.

  Our plan was simple. The extraction was a text book example if I’d ever seen one. Luna most likely wouldn’t be bothered to dirty her hands with any of the logistics, so we operated on the assumption that the scarred man was hired to do the kidnapping while Nikola and Luna called the shots from afar.

  “It’s just too convenient that Nikola is there right now for an unscheduled meeting…” I said more to myself than anything.

  “Fair point,” Remy replied to me. “So,” he said, turning to Henri, “how fast can this thing go?”

  “Remy’s a bit of a speed enthusiast,” I explained.

  Henri replied by flipping an arbitrary looking switch and gunning it. The speedometer responded accordingly and I wagered we’d be able to shave off at least fifteen minutes of drive time.

  “I want one,” said Remy, impressed with the demonstration.

  “The car, or Henri?” I asked.

  “Both. What else have you got hidden away on her?” he said, clapping Henri on the shoulder from the back seat. Remy was a kid in a candy shop, and if the circumstances had been different, I’d be sharing in his enthusiasm.

  “Besides the bullet proof glass, air-tight enabling feature for chemical or biological attacks, armored plating, and satellite functions? Or would you like to know more about the internal steel cables in the tires that allow them to continually roll after deflation?” Henri questioned.

  I had known all the features and more, having been briefed before simulations of kidnapping and assassination attempts, but what shocked me was the amount of words Henri had just spoken.

  “And here I was thinking I had hired a mute chauffeur.”

  “Maybe you just had him bored to tears,” Remy commented. “Clearly the man enjoys the subject of armored vehicles.”

  “Clearly,” I mused. “Perhaps we can go over the plan once more?” I urged.

  “Yes, of course, Your Highness.” Henri was all business and at his indulgent out-of-character bit, he looked embarrassed that he’d let himself slip. He and Stephan had worked together quickly and were in charge of the operation.

  We would be arriving at the castle through the less traveled south entrance, that snaked through a heavily wooded area before petering out and ending at Queen Irena’s Garden. It was no longer tended to, but still held my great-great grandmother’s name.

  The stable was within walking distance from the garden, but it was obstructed from view, making our approach ideal. From there, we’d make our way on foot, and get Alana.

  We crested the hill and the castle became visible. On any other day I’d appreciate the view, but not now. Not when Alana was in danger.

  None of us were quite sure whether or not the scarred man was acting alone, or if the other two men that had chased us were with him.

  Either way, I had the utmost confidence that between the four of us, we’d be able to take them and safely get Alana. She was my only concern at the moment. Although, the drive did give me time to devise a nice conclusion to Nikola and Luna’s murderous escape.

  The gravel crunched under the tires as Henri shifted into park. We each exited, quiet as we closed the doors. There was no one around, but still, we couldn’t be too sure.

  Henri walked to the tailgate and opened the door.

  Remy rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “More toys?” he asked. I was beginning to rethink having him tag along.

  Henri clicked a button on his fob and a concealed compartment under the back seat was revealed.

  “Nice!” Remy commented in regards to the hidden weapons now on full display. “Which one do I get?”

  There was a small variety of pistols, a shotgun and an assault rifle. Henri dispersed the Heckler & Koch handguns, giving one to each of us. Stephan shook his head, declining. He patted his hip letting us know that he was concealing his own personal firearm.

  Silently making our way towards the small building, we fell in line behind Henri. Upon reaching the door of the small building, Henri turned to us and signaled a three-two-one countdown.

  His fingers dropped one by one.

  And then we made our move.

  Chapter 19

  Alana

  Chloroform was a lie. Everything you see in movies about the villian rendering the victim unconscious within seconds is false. Turns out, chloroform can take up to five minutes before you pass out from its effects.

  It’s extremely volatile, meaning that when it reacts to the air, it loses much of its potency. So, when the handkerchief was pressed to my mouth and nose, I did not go weak in the knees and keel over.

  Let me back up.

  After getting off the phone with Remy, I drove into Slaždin. I wasn’t sure if I was being watched or how closely, if at all. I parked on the opposite side of the street and down a block, hastily making my way to the garage entrance. Pulling out my phone to let Remy know I had arrived, I was grabbed from behind and the cloth had been placed over my face.

  Naturally, I panicked, expecting to pass out rather soon. But it didn’t happen. My attacker anticipated the fight, and using his larger form to his advantage, easily overpowered me.

  I fought, I struggled and I kicked. I made as much of a scene as I could, though it did no good; the garage entrance was behind the building and unless another tenant happened to be getting in or out of their car, nobody would see the altercation unfolding.

  The sweet smelling cloth had, however, given me a glorious headache and did make me feel fatigued.

  My captor’s grip was tight and though I tried kicking and worming my way out of his grasp, I was simply lifted until my feet no longer touched the ground and was roughly pushed, front facing, into a nearby wall. I was pinned between real concrete and the concrete of the man behind me.

  My head pounded in protest, my arms ached from the vice-like squeeze, and my lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. The last thing I remembered, ironically, was a siren in the distance, and then it all went black.

  Eventually, I came to, my headache not waning in the least. I was confused by my surroundings, but less so by the current company.

  I instinctively went to speak, but my mouth had been taped shut, and I was gagging on a cloth. I concentrated on deep, even breaths through my nose, willing myself not to hyperventilate. I was sitting in a chair at least, but my hands were tied to the back of it, causing an uncomfortable pain in
my shoulders.

  The man who wrangled me—what other description would you give it?—nodded his head to the other person.

  “She’s awake, boss.” His voice was deep and had an uneducated lilt; I couldn’t quite place the dialect of his accent. But recognition dawned on me when he turned, the silvery scar that ran the length of his face coming in to view.

  Though the other figure was in all black, hidden in the shadows, the frame was much too slight to be anyone else. Two steps forward brought her into the dim light. Her blonde hair looked ruddy in the small, poorly lit room. But her overly Botox’d face was completely recognizeable.

  “Well, well.” Luna’s voice dripped venom, a look of satisfaction on her sharp features. Wherever we were was old; a damp, earthen scent permeated the tiny space, the air swirling about with her movement. “Surprised to see me?” she asked.

  I could’ve answered her by nodding, but I wasn’t interested in taking her bait and playing into her sick game.

  “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Luna circled me, acting very much like the cat who was about to pounce on its prey. As she came around to face me, she tore the tape from my mouth with a movement so fast, it left me stunned. I waited for the pain to sink in, and as my eyes filled with water, I spit the rag out as close to her as I could get. It fell disappointingly short.

  “You know, Jacques,” she said conversationally to the scarred man, “I was going to show our little friend here what would happen to her if she decided to be brave and scream, but I think you better do it…” She was wearing black leather gloves, and while Luna facetiously threatened me, she picked an errant blonde hair off her shoulder.

  “I won’t,” I said quickly. “I promise.” My voice was hoarse and as much as I hated how submissive I sounded, I didn’t have a lot of room to argue.

  Contradicting any scream that might have come from me, Luna laughed, a shrill, high pitched noise. I had no clue where we were, but maybe if I taunted her, her boisterous reactions would be heard.