Wulf rubbed a hand over his face. Katie had a week’s head start and seemed to have disappeared without a trace. He didn’t understand how she was surviving. She wasn’t using credits. How was she paying for the things she needed? Food, lodging, transportation? Worry for her was eating away at him. Had she tracked Gordmere only to be hurt…or worse?
His jaw clenched. He knew she could take care of herself, but he didn’t want her to have to.
When a soft beeping came from the door, he tersely gave permission for entry. The captain entered with a bow.
“Your Majesty. Your Highness.” He straightened and his gaze met Wulf’s. “The small group of guardsmen you requested are making the necessary preparations for the journey to Tolan.”
Wulf nodded. “Excellent. I’ll be ready shortly.”
“You are not leaving with them,” the king said with dangerous softness.
“I am.”
“I request permission to accompany you, Your Highness,” the captain asked.
“Granted.”
With a bow, the captain left the room.
Wulf moved toward his bedroom, where servants were packing his belongings. He was halted by a powerful grip on his elbow. He looked at his father. Struggling to regain his equanimity after the surprise, he asked, “What are you doing?”
“The Manerian king and his daughter are arriving today.”
“I know.”
“You’re to meet the princess in anticipation of a possible match.”
“You’d better send for Duncan, then. I won’t be here.”
Anders’s voice vibrated with anger. “I’ve stepped back, Wulfric, and allowed you free rein, but never forget that it is I who am king. You will obey me.”
“Father, don’t do this.”
The king’s mouth hardened. “A union with Maneria, Wulfric! Can you imagine the power and influence D’Ashier would have?”
“Yes, it would be an excellent match.” Wulf placed his hand over his father’s. “But the Manerian princess can wait. Katie is in danger because of me.”
Anders growled. “I was certain you would always put D’Ashier first. I never imagined you could be so selfish.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He pried his father’s hand from his arm and moved away.
“Wulfric! You will not turn away from me until you are dismissed.”
Wulf stopped in mid-stride. He turned carefully to confront his father, his face impassive.
“You will listen to me,” the king ordered.
“I always listen to you. I have duly noted your thoughts on the matter of my departure.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Katie’s on Tolan, risking herself to avenge me. I have to go to her.”
“And if I command you to stay?”
Wulf gave a weary exhale. “You would have to imprison me, which wouldn’t impress the Manerian king.”
The king’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “And if I command you to marry the Manerian princess?”
“We can discuss Maneria when I return, Father.”
“I forbid you to pursue Erikson’s daughter!”
“I have to pack.” He bowed, and turned away.
“Wulfric.” There was an anguished note in his father’s voice that stopped him again. “Why?”
He returned to his father with hands outstretched. “When I was in that cave…the slightest hint of a breeze across my skin was agonizing. When I awoke in the healing chamber and saw Katie there, I thought I’d died and she was my reward. I felt joy. Gratitude. From that very first moment, I knew she was mine. Knew it. And she looked at me the same way. Before she knew who I was. I was just a wounded man who had nothing to offer her.”
“She knew damn well who you were.”
“She didn’t.” Wulf made a slashing gesture with his hand. “I can say that with absolute certainty. I was there when she was told. I saw the horror and fear. The confusion. She didn’t know.”
“You talk as if she’s the only woman to desire you,” Anders scoffed. “All women want you.”
“But I don’t want all women. Since my capture, I can’t bear to be touched. I have no attendants. I dress and bathe myself. I maintain a safe physical distance from others.”
“Except from the one person you need to stay far away from!”
“She makes me feel. I see her, taste her, smell her…Everything else is gray to me, but she’s vibrant. I need her to touch me. I ache for the feel of her hands on me. Part of me died in that cave. Whatever is left exists because of her. I can’t explain it any better than that. She’s necessary to me.”
Wulf dropped to his knees. “I beg you, Father, don’t ask me to choose between D’Ashier and Katie.”
“You’ve never begged me for anything,” Anders said hoarsely. “I wish you’d ask me for something I could give you.”
“Her father’s support could facilitate the Sarian treaty we both want. Think of the future,” Wulf said.
The silence that followed his words stretched endlessly. The waiting was torture.
“I am, Wulfric.” Accepting Wulf’s offered hands, the king pulled him to his feet. The forlorn sigh he released made Wulfric’s heart ache. “Fetch her, if you must. But her presence in your bed makes the need for a powerful alliance even more urgent.”
Wulf embraced him. “We’ll deal with the logistics when the time comes.”
Anders’s face was lined with strain and disappointment, aging him drastically. “I’ll do my best to pacify the Manerians. For your sake, son. Because I love you.”
“You won’t regret this,” Wulf promised.
“I already do, but I can’t think of any other way to hasten your boredom with her.”
As Wulf turned his gaze toward the window and its view of his beloved D’Ashier beyond, his gut knotted. He remembered Katie standing naked in front of it, bathed in the reddish glow of the setting sun, her body soft and languid from his lovemaking.
He didn’t know if he could live without either one of them.
His hand lifted to rub at his chest. “I have to go now. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
Sapphire moved swiftly through the urban darkness, her glaive-hilt gripped tightly in her hand. The mercenary moved with casual ease along the pedestrian strip, completely unaware that she shadowed him so closely. The traffic on the street was light—most likely owing to the earlier light drizzle—but there were enough people around to make her inconspicuous.
Breathing deeply, she relished the rare smell of a rainy night. Tolan was a lush planet, a stark contrast to her desert homeworld. Covered in golden-leaved trees and seas of wild green grass, it was beautiful. A paradise. Sadly the perfection of the planet was marred by the massive cities, the favored metallic designs glaring in the light of Tolan’s twin suns.
“Do you have a light?” Gordmere stopped a passing woman in order to ignite his cheroot.
Sapphire slipped beneath the shadowed overhang of a closed establishment.
After the two-day trip to Tolan, it had taken almost two weeks to track the mercenary down. Gordmere was wily enough to switch aliases constantly, which made it difficult to monitor him through the interstellar system. It might have taken longer to locate him, but she’d learned he had two powerful weaknesses—gambling and arrogance. He didn’t fear anyone, and he couldn’t seem to quit while he was behind. Some gaming hells were more forgiving than others. Once she’d established which hells would let players get deep in the hole, the rest had fallen into place.
In a way, Sapphire was grateful for the attention the hunt had required. The time spent tracking Gordmere had kept her busy enough to prevent pining over Wulfric, at least during the daylight hours. The nights were another matter.
As Gordmere continued on, Sapphire rejoined the foot traffic, her nostrils teased by the tendrils of fragrant smoke drifting over his shoulder.
He paused at a doorway and glanced from left to right. She walked right past h
im, careful to draw no attention to herself. Finding nothing suspicious, Gordmere disappeared inside.
“Dalen,” she whispered.
The reply came through the tiny comm link in her ear. “Yes, Mistress?”
“He just walked in.”
“I see him.”
She sighed. It was difficult to leave so important a task to someone else, but it was a gentlemen’s club and she wouldn’t be allowed entry. “Make sure you sit close enough to overhear his conversation.”
“I understand. Please don’t worry. I’m very good at making friends.”
“I’ll be nearby, waiting for you.”
Sapphire turned around and took the lift to the small room she’d rented overlooking the club. It was a hovel, but despite its condition, it still cost her two cases of Sari wine, far more than it was worth. But there was no help for it. She couldn’t leave Dalen alone, untrained as he was. Something could happen, anything could go wrong, and she had to be near at hand just in case.
Entering the tiny lodging, she was suddenly overwhelmed by emotion and exhaustion. It happened every time she was alone with nothing to occupy her.
Nothing but thoughts of Wulf.
Staring out the grimy window at the club below, Sapphire wondered what he was doing. Did he ache for her, as she did for him? Did he feel as hollow inside? And she wondered again whether she’d made a mistake, if she should have returned to him, despite everything.
It was late when Dalen stumbled from the club with Gordmere, both men slightly tipsy from too much drink. They parted ways at the pedestrian strip and she exited the small lodging by way of the lift. She deliberately fell behind to be certain Dalen wasn’t followed. When she was sure he was safe from prying eyes, she followed him up to their hotel room.
Like nearly everything in Tolan, their lodging was designed to look “modern” with sleek lines, metallic and stone accents, and neutral colors. She hated it, wondering why the Tolanites admired such lifeless surroundings when their planet as a whole was so warm and vibrant.
She found Dalen lounging on the beige chaise in the small living area, waiting for her. He reeked of perfume and sex, his dazed smile telling her that he’d had a good time with the club’s concubines. Sapphire was happy for him. In choosing to travel with her, he had left everything he knew and loved, and she’d been horrid company; snappish one minute and crying the next.
As she sank onto the seat next to him, he grinned at her with boyish charm. “I think you’ll be pleased with tonight’s events, Mistress.”
“Did he mention anything about Prince Wulfric?”
“No.”
She groaned.
“But,” Dalen continued, “he did offer me a job.”
“What?”
“I repeated everything you told me to say. I told him how I’d been released from my employment because I was caught pilfering. I mentioned my resentment and lack of work. All of this information was unimpressive and boring to him, until I told him that I once worked in the D’Ashier palace. Then, he began to listen.”
Sapphire leaned forward. “And?”
“He wanted to know more.” Dalen yawned.
“You told him that you knew Crown Prince Wulfric personally?”
He nodded. “He was interested in everything I told him.”
“How interested? Do you think you could talk to him again?”
“Even better.” Dalen grinned. “He said he’d been hired to capture a figure of great prominence and that recent events had severely reduced his crew. He offered to take me on.”
She blinked. “He offered to hire you? To capture a crown prince? He doesn’t even know you!”
Dalen smiled smugly. “I told you I was very good at making friends.”
“This is fantastic.” She fell back into the cushions of the chaise.
There were a hundred scenarios she’d considered when it came to dealing with Tarin Gordmere, but working for him had not been one of them. It was, however, perfect. “Tell me everything.”
“He says he must build up his crew before he can take action and he’s been warned that his target is a warrior of great skill. He hesitates to make his move until he’s certain he can succeed. This, apparently, will take a few more weeks.”
She frowned. “Not if he’s hiring strangers right off the streets.”
Dalen laughed. “My work at the palace was quite important to Gordmere. He mentioned it several times. If I hadn’t revealed that, he probably wouldn’t have offered.”
“I wonder if he intends to go after Wulf in the palace.” Sapphire rubbed her temples, her mind struggling to puzzle out all the possible options and finding too many variables. She had to protect Wulf. If anything ever happened to him…
She shivered. Nothing was going to happen, because she would ensure that he was never in any danger.
“When do you see him again?” she asked.
“Tomorrow.” Dalen’s blue eyes lit with obvious anticipation. “You were correct about his gambling addiction, Mistress. He also has a weakness for women.”
She smiled ruefully. “I can smell that on you.”
“I expect that I’m going to spend the next few weeks getting to know him��—his smile was wicked—“and his rather decadent lifestyle.”
She wrinkled her nose. She couldn’t stand by doing nothing. She had to be involved in some way, no matter how minor. A thought came to mind, along with a slow grin that spread across her lips.
Dalen eyed her warily. “I’ve started to recognize that look, Mistress. It rarely bodes well.”
“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “You’ll be pleased to know, Dalen, that you’ve just acquired a mätress.”
“I’m going to have to do something about him,” Sapphire muttered in Dalen’s ear, her arm thrown around his neck.
Dalen’s gaze followed hers, coming to rest on the bulky man who stood next to Gordmere by the club bar. Music thumped loudly as the singer on the stage belted out a popular dance tune. All around them, various patrons gyrated to the beat, creating an environment of wild, carefree decadence.
“Such as?” he asked.
“I haven’t decided yet, but he doesn’t like us, and if he continues his complaining, Gordmere might decide we’re not worth the effort. Tor Smithson has been with him for years and we’re just strangers.”
Strengthening their appearance as an amorous couple, she threw her leg over Dalen’s. “We have to stay involved long enough to discover who hired Gordmere.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She watched Gordmere catch the eye of a pretty concubine, then move to charm her, leaving Smithson alone. Sliding off the seat, Sapphire pushed to her feet. “Keep Gordmere distracted.”
Dalen grabbed her arm. “You’re going to do it now?”
Meeting his concerned gaze, she offered a reassuring smile. “It’s been three weeks and he still hasn’t told you anything about who hired him or details about the job. He doesn’t trust you yet, and he won’t as long as Smithson is filling his head full of doubt. We have to get him out of the way.” She stood. “Besides, Smithson’s one of the mercs who tortured Wulfric. He deserves what I can give him.”
Dalen grabbed her wrist. “You’re unarmed.”
“So is he,” she pointed out. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in half an hour. If I’m not, then you can get worried.”
“Your reassurances leave much to be desired,” he muttered, but he rose from the small booth and made his way over to Gordmere.
Sapphire sidled up to the bar and flashed a smile at Smithson. She ordered a glass of Tolan brew, a potent liquor that Dalen enjoyed but she couldn’t stomach.
“Why don’t you go home?” Smithson’s tone was harsh. “You’ve no business being here.”
She perused him with an assessing side-glance, taking in the threat he presented while sizing him up. Her father had always advised her that being prepared was half the battle.
“I’d be bored at home,” she co
mplained with a pout.
Smithson’s returning perusal was blatantly disgusted. “That’s not my concern, my wallet is. Your boyfriend looks to you every time he’s asked a question. A man who buckles under a piece of ass like that can’t be trusted.”
Sapphire looked over her shoulder. Dalen was talking animatedly with Tarin Gordmere, who faced away from her. The bartender set the brew she’d ordered on the counter and she moved quickly, while the time was still right. “Why don’t you show me out?”
“You’re leaving?” He studied her suspiciously. “Just like that?”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to cause any trouble. We need the money, you know?”
“Walk yourself out,” he said coldly.
She sighed. “Fine. I’ll stay. I can never hail a public transport by myself and—”
Smithson grabbed her elbow and hauled her toward the exit.
“What about Dalen’s drink?” she whined, stumbling along behind him.
“I’ll give it to him when I get back.”
She hid her smile. “Okay.”
The instant the doors slid closed behind them, Sapphire moved. Surprise was all she had, so she used it, rotating Smithson’s arm with all of her weight, gritting her teeth when she heard the bone break. His howl of pain was deafening. She lifted her foot and kicked him in the ass, shoving him away from the door, where they might be overheard.
The entrance to the club was in an alley off the main thoroughfare, which made time a precious commodity. She was moments away from discovery, if that.
Smithson dropped and kicked in a sideways swipe, knocking her feet out from under her. Sapphire fell forward, landing on top of him. Before she could react, his good arm was around her neck, squeezing. Gasping and clawing, Sapphire fought to ease the pressure on her trachea. The mercenary was too strong. Spots drifted before her eyes, then blackness closed in. Seconds away from unconsciousness, she yanked his broken arm. As his agonized roar echoed through the dimly lit alley, she scrambled free.
Time. She was running out of it. Stumbling to her feet, she sucked air into burning lungs, her neck throbbing from his brutal grip.