Читать книгу The Dare Collection September 2018 - Stefanie London - Страница 19

CHAPTER TEN

Damien

I’VE RIDDEN UNBROKEN steeds and driven the fastest cars, but there is nothing to describe the feeling when X hands me the cyclic and I take control of the aircraft.

I got my pilot’s license a couple years ago, but the racing circuit has given me little opportunity to fly, and I’ve never flown a copter such as this.

“Nikolai would not approve,” I say with an air of triumph in my voice.

X quirks a brow but says nothing.

Behind me, Juliet places a hand on my shoulder, and I instinctively reach up to grab it, resting my palm over hers. A jolt of something shoots through me. Not a memory—but the memory of a feeling, like touching her is as natural as taking my next breath.

But I know this is wishful thinking, that I might feel what she feels. I refuse to believe we could have found something so real in a matter of days.

I don’t do real.

I don’t deserve real.

And I certainly don’t trust my heart to another. I did that once, and look where I ended up.

“Have you flown before?” I ask over my shoulder.

“No,” she admits. “I was never permitted to leave Nightgardin. When the king and queen were choosing my suitor, one of the requirements was for each prospect to come to court. Never was I to visit them. It would not have been appropriate for me to be seen in public.”

She speaks the words like they are a script, and my blood boils to hear it—how she’s been conditioned to believe she is nothing more than a means to an end. Perhaps if she were male, she’d have been raised to be a ruthless king. Instead her mother and father have stripped her of all her worth.

“I will kill them if they raise a finger in your direction,” I tell her. “The king and the queen.”

Her hand slips away, and she says nothing.

“May I, Your Highness?” X says, and I give him control of the craft. “It is time to land, and only I know the exact coordinates.”

Below us is the smallest valley between the mountains, one I do not remember seeing on any map. As we descend, I note the smoothness of the insides of these mountains, as if they were carved by hand and not formed from generations of erosion.

“What is this place, X?” I ask.

Juliet leans forward, eyes wide, as we continue to drop down.

My ears pop, and my stomach lurches. I watch the instruments of the aircraft.

“We’re below sea level, X. Where the hell are you taking us?”

X grins, a rare expression for this enigma of a man. “The safest place in the kingdom,” he says.

I scoff. “The palace war room is—”

“No,” X interrupts. “The palace war room is the safest place known to your people. But where we are is unknown to any. Not your father. Not Benedict. Not even Nikolai.”

When we finally land, we are in what looks like a hangar save for the open sky hundreds of feet above. But then the stars disappear as something closes over us.

“Welcome,” X says. “I always wondered which one of the princes would see this place first, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it would be you, Prince Damien.”

I shake my head, not sure what the hell this guy is talking about.

“Enough with the riddles, X. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”

He turns so Juliet can see him, too.

“You’re the key,” he says to me. “The key to saving your family, and your kingdom.”

* * *

After winding through a labyrinth of tunnels, all lined by several doors X does not take us through, we finally stop in front of one that looks no different from the rest. X pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks what looks like the entrance to a prison cell. But when we enter we find rows of desks and intricate-looking computer equipment—and a to-go coffee cup on one desk marked by a lipstick imprint. But no drinker of said coffee.

X sighs. “Always on the run,” he says under his breath with a rueful sigh.

“Who?” I ask.

“What?” X counters. “Oh, I spoke aloud. Hmm... I’ll have to watch that. Bad habit.”

He walks up and down the rows of monitors, tapping a button here, touching a screen there. I look at Juliet, whose eyes are wide as she spins slowly to take in her surroundings. She seems as bewildered as I am—and I don’t bewilder easily.

“X...” I say slowly. “Who exactly are you?”

“Damien.” Juliet strides up next to me. “This man lives in the palace, knows all of its goings-on, and you don’t know who he is?”

I laugh. “When you say it like that, it does sound suspect. But since I was born, X has been here. And from what I hear about the machinations of our stepmother, Adele, and a secret organization from Nightgardin trying to use Evangeline to gain access to some ancient map, Edenvale would not have escaped such peril without X’s intervention. Do I know how he came to be the head of our security detail? Not entirely. But he’s here, and what I do know is that we are the better for it.” I say this with conviction. I may not be sure about much, but of this I am. “Still, X, old friend. You could maybe give us an answer or two. Set the princess’s mind at ease?”

X spins to face us both. He straightens his tie and tugs at the cuffs of his shirt.

“It was your mother’s...passing that initiated my—employment within the palace walls. But I do not work for the Edenvale government.”

I shrug. “Of course not,” I say. “You work private security for the royal family.”

X shakes his head. “That is the part I play, yes. It is what your father and your brothers believe. But it’s not the truth. At least not the whole truth.”

He pulls a dagger from the cuff of his shirt.

Juliet yelps, and without thinking I pull her to me, wrapping my body around hers.

X raises his hand, and I watch him take aim—at my head.

The blade flies, and I hear it whiz past my ear. I even feel the rush of air from the speed of the steel.

But it doesn’t touch me. It sinks into the wall a few feet behind me.

Juliet and I both turn to see where it landed. We approach the wall to find the point of the blade piercing the tiny body of a fly.

“Shit, X. Do you have a thing against flies?” I ask.

He stalks toward his blade, inspecting his expert throw.

“Not at all,” he says. “But this is not your everyday fly. It’s an escapee from our lab, which means someone forgot to seal the containment chamber. You could have been paralyzed with the juice of the Evernight poppy. It’s safe enough, but what a convenient way to incapacitate an enemy. However, when the paralysis wears off—I don’t think you’re ready for such an experience, Princess.”

Juliet lets out a nervous laugh.

“Evernight poppy? Paralysis? Flies? You speak as if you are some sort of international spy,” she says.

X grins. “Now,” he says, whispering so only I can hear, “we’re finally getting somewhere. Juliet, if you tell me what I need to know about Nightgardin’s Black Watch, I will tell your husband the truth about his mother’s death.”

All the blood drains from my face, and before I know what I’m doing, X’s lapels are in my hand, but it takes him mere seconds to gain control, pinning me against the wall, the dagger with the poisonous insect now held inches from my throat.

“Go ahead, Princess,” X says softly still. “Prove yourself to your husband and unlock the mystery of his birth.”

Juliet

“I know nothing about the Black Watch. Mother doesn’t permit me to sit in on her meetings with them.”

“Not one?” X quizzes, a strange, tight look on his face.

I shake my head. “Never.”

“Damn, I think she was right,” X mutters to himself, balling his left hand in a fist and driving against his thigh. “Damn, damn, damn. I hate when that happens.”

“Who?” I ask, baffled. “Who was right?”

His gaze refocuses, his eyes shuttering. “It’s not time to reveal that particular part of the puzzle,” he answers. “But I’m going to need both of you to take a seat.”

Damien holds out a chair for me. We exchange troubled glances before I sit.

“This is bad news, isn’t it?” I say to X.

He turns away, presenting me with his broad back. What an inscrutable man. Imagine living a life so full of secrets. How does he trust anyone? And better yet, why should I trust him? But Damien and his brothers trust him—and I trust them.

“According to Section Twelve, Article Nine, Paragraph Seven of the Nightgardin Conventions of Royal Rule, the heir to the throne is to begin meeting with the Black Watch at the age of maturity, which is eighteen.”

“I thought there were only eleven sections to the Conventions of Royal Rule,” I remark, puzzled. “In fact, I’m certain. I had to memorize every sentence in that giant snooze fest.”

X shakes his head. “There are twelve. But it appears there are people motivated in preventing you from learning all your true duties.”

I gasp, as the truth slams me. “Mother? Father?”

X turns around with a short nod. “Just so.”

“But...but...it doesn’t make any sense. What cause would they have to hide anything from me if I’m to be Nightgardin’s next queen?”

Damien’s expression is one of grave realization. “Perhaps...they never intended you to rule at all.” He speaks in a slow voice, a frown deepening the two lines above his crooked nose.

“But I’m their only child. The heir. The next in line. Who else is there but me? A distant third cousin? You don’t understand.” I speak fast. “I was raised in a strict fashion. My parents probably kept me from the Black Watch to keep me safe. To be protected from the burdens of the crown.” But even as I speak, I doubt the truth to my own words. I think of the lack of affection they displayed toward me—the threats if I ever breathed a word of my wicked weekend with Damien to anyone.

“Perhaps.” X rubs the rough scruff darkening his chin. “But perhaps not. Now more than ever it’s of the most vital importance for the safety of you and your unborn child to search your mind. Are there any memories that felt unsettling?”

Tears burn my eyes. “I’m not hiding anything from you. I swear on my life.”

“I believe you. But to my strange secret world, of which you are glimpsing only the tip of the iceberg here tonight, it could mean a great deal. Nightgardin is the most insular country in Europe, the leadership notoriously reclusive on the world stage. It’s incredibly difficult to get spies on the inside.”

My eyes widen, pleading with X—with Damien—to believe me. “I won’t pretend my upbringing was normal in this twenty-first-century world. I was cloistered. Not able to interact with other children once I hit puberty. I wasn’t even allowed to keep a lady’s maid for longer than a month. Mother said it was to keep me from doling out preferential treatment to subordinates—her words—but I think they didn’t want me to form connections.”

“Why?” Damien demanded. “What sadistic purpose does that serve?”

“Indeed,” X murmurs. “Nightgardin is known for conservative views, but the standard to which you were kept isolated exceeds anything I’ve heard of.”

“Wait!” Something tugs at my memories, something that only now makes me pause. “There is one thing that never made sense to me. Mother and Father had a doctor visit a couple of times a year. It wasn’t the royal surgeon. It wasn’t even a citizen from Nightgardin. Once I spied on their meeting and discovered that he was an American, from Los... Los Angeles. He administered injections to my parents in the face. I watched it all from a crack in the door. I didn’t know what they were doing. Only that after they seemed pleased.”

“Botox?” Damien asked, glancing to X.

“Or stem cells. Did it change their appearances?”

I shake my head. “Not change, but they both looked...younger after. Everyone complimented them on their seemingly eternal youth.”

X jerks his head in my direction, his nostrils flaring. “What did you just say?”

I blink twice, confused. “Eternal youth.”

“Yes!” X drives his fist into his thigh again. He must give himself a lot of bruises. “Yes, of course! Christ, we’re finally on the right track.”

And with that, he strides from the room without a backward glance.

“Track? What track?” I ask Damien once the door snicked shut.

“No clue,” he mutters.

We sit in stunned silence, digesting everything we’ve learned since leaving the palace.

“I feel like Alice after she went through the looking glass,” I whisper.

“Guess that makes me the mad hatter.” Damien clears his throat. “For the record, I’m sorry about your parents. They don’t seem like the sort of people who should be allowed to reproduce.”

“I always thought the problem was me. That I wasn’t lovable enough.”

“You?” Damien’s eyes widened. “That’s the most absurd statement that I’ve ever heard.”

“But is it more absurd than a secret lair in a remote mountain valley filled with state-of-the-art surveillance equipment?” I quip.

“Touché.” He chuckles.

“Just so you know...I don’t regret meeting you. I’ve lived more since our paths have crossed than I have in my entire life.” I get up and kneel before his chair. He stiffens as if he wants to pull away, but I don’t let him. Instead, I place my hand on his heart.

“Let me in,” I whisper. “Let me find a way back to you.”

He grabs my wrist. “Juliet.”

The air is charged between us, thick with everything going unsaid. Then his mouth is slanting over mine, raw and hungry. Before I can return the kiss, he’s moved to the sensitive hollow in my throat, sending me to heaven with his lush wet sucks.

“What do you do to me,” he groans, savoring my skin in slow licks.

“The same thing you do to me.” My breath is hitched but my response is assured.

“You tremble when I do this.” He doesn’t ask a question. So cocky. He knows he’s driving me mad. “Are you tight between your legs, in that snug little pussy? Do you tremble there too?”

The door opens and I fly back, smoothing a hand over my hair, but feeling the tattle-tale blush staining my cheeks.

But it’s not X who is joining us. A young woman, not much older than me with her hair in a tight bun that’s as no-nonsense as her black jumpsuit, appears.

“I’m to take you somewhere more comfortable,” she says in a clipped tone. Her accent is from Rosegate.

“On whose command?” Damien asks, every inch the arrogant prince, even as I see him subtly adjust his pants due to his massive bulge.

The insides of my cheeks water. I’m so lust stricken that I barely hear her next words.

“X’s, Highness. Here in The Hole, he is in charge.”

“The Hole?” I inquire, trying to focus, to figure out what she is talking about.

“That’s the name of our headquarters here.”

“Didn’t stretch any creative muscles on that one, did you?” Damien drawls.

She doesn’t crack a smile. “Come. He said he’d be there shortly.”