Ariel…
Something was very wrong.
From the mounted cameras in Jessa's apartment, I couldn't see the princess. She wasn't in her apartment, and she wasn't scheduled to be out. Roone was on duty and hadn't reported in that she was leaving.
I angled the cameras, turning them just so, and then I could see it.
A body.
Judging by the size, it was a male.
Giving zero shits about someone seeing me with a gun, I shoved mine into my holster and bolted across the hall.
This was supposed to be bloody easy. Roone was supposed to go over there and tell her the truth. Simple. Sure, I had expected yelling. I had expected screaming. I hadn't expected a vanishing act.
I found the door slightly ajar and pulled my gun from my hoslter.
The good news was I knew where the hell Roone was. The bad news was the man on the floor.
"Fuck. Oh God! Roone. Wake up!"
What was wrong with him? I checked his pulse, and it was slow but steady. I checked him over for injuries, but I didn't see any blood. Shit, what the hell was wrong with him? Had his dick atrophied or something? Could you die from that? What was that thing that happened when you had a hard on for longer than four hours? Could that kill you?
Then I saw it. In the hollow between his shoulder and neck… a tranquilizer dart. Fuck.
Someone shot him with a tranq gun. Where was the fucking princess?
My heart hammered against my ribs, pounding irregularly. I sucked in short, jagged breaths. Focus dammit, focus.
I couldn't freak out. I had a team to run. I tugged my phone out of my back pocket and sent a broadcast out to my crew. "Alert. Alert. No eyes on the princess. No eyes. I repeat, no eyes."
Immediately I started getting responses. "On alert. Searching." If there was any trace of her, they'd find her. I needed to stay here with Roone. What the fuck had happened?
He was supposed to tell her the truth, and they'd fight, kiss, and make up, and we'd all go home. My stomach knotted. I wrapped my fingers around the dart in Roone's neck and tugged, wincing as I did so. God, what drug was in the dart? How much had he been given?
Focus on the task at hand. Find the princess, wake his ass up.
Calling the police was going to be a problem because they'd want to know who the fuck had access to a dart gun like that. And if it was the princess, I didn't want anyone asking those kinds of questions or alerting anyone else to her whereabouts. Well, anyone other than us.
Going back to my training, I shifted my position to his head, squatted behind him and slid my arms under his shoulders, and then I hauled. Jesus Christ, he was big. If he was awake, he'd probably chuckle and say, That's what she said.
"Come on, you stupid giant. I don't know what she gave you, but I need you to wake up. You are my partner. You do not get to die on me. Not today."
I hauled and pulled and bent and twisted and prayed. Come on, Roone. Come on. It took me a good fifteen minutes, but I was finally able to move him to the couch. First, I had to squat and use my legs to get his top half up on the couch, and then I bent down to move his legs.
I took his shoes off before I ran to the bathroom for washcloths. Cool ones. I wet them and placed them on his forehead and the back of his neck. If she tranqued him, then it wasn't like he'd taken something. I hesitated to give him any drugs to wake him up. Do you have time for that?
God, did I? I didn't think I did. But I had to make sure he was safe. I knew what the king would want in that respect.
I ran my hands through my hair. Think. Think. Think. I didn't know what she'd given him, so waking him up with any kind of counteragent could cost his life. But if I didn't wake him up soon, then the Princess would be further out of our grasp. How would we find her?
The recordings, you have them all. Hell yeah, I did. I ran back across the hall, unplugged the laptop, then hauled the wires and all the other extra equipment with me as I ran back to Jessa's flat.
I did a quick and dirty connection and pulled up the feed over the last hour and a half since I'd last spoken to Roone, and then I hit Play. Jessa had come back. She looked ill. Clutching her stomach, pausing every now and again to take deep breaths. Was she sick? Had she just simply gone to the doctor? No, she wouldn't have left Roone here.
And hello, someone tranqued his ass.
Had someone tranqued her as well and taken her?
I tapped my foot anxiously as I watched. I lifted my brow when Jessa moved her book case, aimed her elbow, and slammed it into the dry wall.
Holy shit.
And then she reached in and pulled out a bag.
That was tradecraft. Who the fuck taught her tradecraft?
It occurred to me then that not only had I underestimated her, but we had grossly overlooked something. Had her father taught her this? But how would her father have known?
On the video, she grabbed a few other things and shoved them in the bag. Then she turned her head quickly as if listening for something. Maybe a knock at the door.
I glanced over at Roone. "Was that you?"
Jessa continued packing and then sat in her bedroom for a few moments. Finally, Roone gave up and just barged in. They spoke for a moment. Then Jessa reached in the bag for—oh God, was that a gun?
I tried one of the recorded videos from another camera angle.
It was certainly shaped like a gun. I couldn't see that well, so I tried another camera angle. Oh yeah, that was the one. The two of them exchanged words. Roone had his hands up trying to talk to her, and then she fired. So that was confirmation that she'd run instead of being taken. That only made me feel slightly better.
After tranquilizing Roone, Jessa shoved the weapon back in her bag and was out the door in seconds. So, we had a runaway princess on our hands. Given her father's surprising skillset at hiding her over the years, it might be even harder to find her now.
***
Jessa…
My hands shook.
Holy shit! I'd shot him. I'd shot Roone.
You didn't shoot him. You tranqued him. It's different.
Yes, that was true. At first, I hadn't known what the hell a tranq gun was doing in there. I'd assumed maybe it was for dogs or wild animals or something, but it ended up coming in very handy. Unless, of course, whatever was in there kills him.
That started the worry and panic all over again.
Stop. He is working for them, the people who've come after you.
Hell, I was sounding as nutters as my father. Who were those people? Now that I was on the train with really only one destination in mind, I started to think through what I knew. Unfortunately, that was next to nothing. What I knew was that Roone knew both the man who was supposedly my biological father and his son. That was all the information I had.
Of course, just like your old man, you panicked and fled. But it wasn't exactly a panic and call the police situation… especially considering the fact I'd used a tranq gun on my boyfriend. Guns were illegal in the UK. I was the one headed for the nick if I went to the police.
I'd panicked. He had been banging on the door right after I had just found out the truth. My mind raced to all the times we'd been together, all the times where he'd had opportunities to hurt me but hadn't.
But he lied.
Okay, he didn't exactly lie, but it was definitely an omission. He knew those people, the prince and the king. He'd been in a lot of pictures, and from the looks of it, he more than knew them. So what the hell was he doing here? And he certainly hadn't come clean with the whole picture of why he was in my life.
That was the truth. He had been lying about everything from who he was to what was he doing in London with me. What I needed to find out was how dangerous they were to me. How dangerous he was to me.
I didn't have very many places to go for answers, so I went to the only source I had. The only person who would have information.
I got off the train at King's Cross, and then I followed the directions I had and strode down the road to Phillip's office. I checked the university website for his office hours, hoping I might to be able to speak to him further.
I'd texted him to ask if he had time to see me when I'd run out of my flat, but he hadn't texted back. But given that I really had nowhere else to go, he was my first logical stop.
I asked the receptionist where I would find his office, and she directed me up the stairs to the right. The tread was well worn. I could see the obvious traffic pattern of students going to and from over the years from the scuffs on the wood to the dirt on the banisters.
The walls looked freshly painted, as if it had been done within the last year or so. Announcements were tacked along next to the windows for tutoring, and flatmates, and cars. When I reached his office, I knocked.
"Come in." When I opened the door and poked my head in, his eyes went wide. "Jessa. Did we make an appointment?"
I shook my head. "I'm so sorry to just pop in on you like this. I—" My voice wavered, and I stopped myself, clasping my hands together to keep them from shaking. I continued, "I just need more information and I—"
He stood abruptly. "Of course. Have a seat."
I was grateful for it because my legs were just about to give out on me. I'd already fainted once today. I really didn't want a repeat.
"The paramedics said that you would be okay."
"Yeah, I just—I wasn't really okay. And then I started to think and realized you are the only one with answers for me. I'm so sorry, I should have called." I shifted on my feet, feeling self—conscious.
He picked up his phone. "From the looks of it, you did. But I was busy, you know, papers."
"Of course. Again, I'm so sorry."
He held up his hands. "No don't worry about it. We can talk all you want. And if you like, I can drive you home when we're done chatting. I don't want you taking the train. Not after earlier."
"No!" Okay, way too forceful. "I mean, I, um probably won't be staying at my place for a bit. You know, boyfriend issues, so I think maybe it's best to just get a hotel or something."
He frowned. "Has something happened?"
I shook my head. "No. If you could just tell me more about my father and the file you gave me, I—"
He sighed. "I was afraid it would be too much of a shock. I'll tell you what I know. Most of it is historical knowledge."
I could see the light at the end of the tunnel dimming, and I couldn't let that hope vanish. "Anything. Please. I will take any information you have."
"Okay, well, the Winston Isles is an island nation in the Caribbean, but I know that they have a British military agreement. If Britain goes to war, then Winston Isles provides its servicemembers. If Winston Isles should ever need troops, British Isles will send some. They're not exactly part of the Commonwealth, but they have that agreement. Although, I don't think their royals are connected or related to ours here. From what I understand, their first king became monarch after an uprising."
"Th—they had a war?"
He waved his hands again. "Oh gosh, not recently. If I remember my history correctly, it was the 18th Century or so. Their first monarch was victorious in winning separation from England, and the people made him king. King Jackson."
I licked my lips. "Do you have any books? I would love those books."
He nodded. "Sure. There's nothing a man of my profession loves more than books. When your father's delusions started, as I believed them to be at the time, I tried to learn as much about them as much as possible."
He pulled an ancient—looking volume from his bookshelf then brought it over to me as he dusted it off. "I was curious about the place your father was so fixated on, so I researched. I think this book has the history, at least the more recent history going back two hundred years or so. From what I remember of that, there were two generations of succession scandal. The one that pertains the most to the situation is the scandal about King Rhyse, your grandfather, being named the king out of turn. There are people who believe that King Rhyse's uncle, Angelus, was supposed to be king."
I frowned. "I don't understand. My grandfather wasn't supposed to be king?"
"No. He was named King. As he was not yet twenty—five when his father Cyrus died, Angelus, Cyrus's brother was supposed to be named regent. The law at the time stated that if the crown prince was under twenty—five years of age at the time of the prior king's death, the regent is supposed to sit on the throne until the crown prince is thirty. At that point, it was the duty of the Regent's Council to determine if the prince should be deposed or if he is fit to lead. But King Cyrus forced a change to the constitution right before his death to put Rhyse on the throne. There are some factions that did not accept the change. Angelus would likely have been named the king if Rhyse was found unfit at thirty. He was a bit of a wastrel in his youth, but keep in mind that in those days, anything could have been made up to make him seem unfit." He shrugged. "There is nothing some won't do to hold on to power."
"So in the minds some faction somewhere, I'm not royalty."
Phillip's smile was soft. "That's correct. They call themselves the Heirs of Angelus. According to them Angelus's descendants would be in line. And keep in mind that's separate of the scandal when King Roland, Rhyse's eldest son, abdicated and his brother, your father, Cassius was named king. At the time, Roland didn't have any children, so Cassius was the legitimate choice. But there are those who think that Roland's heirs should be on the throne. And if they could find a way to depose the current monarch, then Roland's heirs would be in line."
I chewed my bottom lip. "But the second scandal isn't really a scandal because Roland made the choice to abdicate and didn't have any children at the time."
He nodded. "You're right. But when it comes to wealth and power, people will do anything to gain it and hold on."
"But in truth, Angelus's heirs weren't really the rightful heirs anyway if he was going to force a council vote in his favor. He was making his own power grab."
Phillip shrugged. "That is the way of kings and kingdoms. If history books are to be believed, and if all had gone according to plan, then Angelus's descendent should be on the throne. I think you would still be a princess, though a minor one. And you know, worthy of all trappings, I suppose, but no, not the in—line—to—the—throne kind of Princess."
I shook my head. "Jesus Christ. This is such a trip."
"Well yes, of course. It's not every day one finds out one is royalty."
"But I'm not. I'm just me."
He nodded. "I understand. Maybe not as well as you do, but I get the idea. From what I understand, the current prince, what is his name again?" He frowned as he tried to remember. "Yes, Lucas."
"Lucas? The name doesn't sound very regal."
He shrugged. "Well, that's because it's not. He wasn't a prince until just recently. I saw something on it in Hello! or some other magazine."
"You read Hello!?"
He grinned. "I have to keep up with my students, don't I? Anyway, he was a regular bloke, and then the new king went on a hunt for him. He's an illegitimate child of the previous king, like you."
"Wow, I guess so when you put it like that."
Phillip shook his head. "Honestly, I wouldn't get too in your head about it. Your father loved you, that's all that matters."
"Yeah, but which father?"
He frowned. "Well, your father Andrew, the man who raised you and tried to protect you. If he was afraid of these people, there must have been a reason."
I shook my head. "I know. It only makes sense that there would have been a reason, but if they went looking for Lucas and made him a prince when they found him, why would they be looking for me to hurt me?"
"I don't know. Obviously, I'm not a royal. But with your father's illness as a factor, maybe they thought he was influenced by others. You know how these things go. History is littered with stories of entanglements and spats. It could be anything."
"I have to find out."
He frowned. "I think you need to be careful. What if they are trying to hurt you?"
He has a point there. "I feel like I owe it to myself. I need to find out. I need to understand who these people are, if any of this is even true. We have to consider the source. My father, after all… I mean, honestly."
Phillip sat on the edge of his desk. "Jessa, I'm afraid for you. Because if your father was right and you were actually in danger, then these people should be dealt with warily. I don't think you waltzing in and saying 'Hi, I'm your sister' is the safest approach."
"Well, I'm not suggesting that I would walk up to them and do such a thing. I'm just thinking that I should find out more about them. Maybe there's no danger. Maybe my father was just a very sick man. Maybe I spent my life hiding for nothing. Maybe these other people from this Heirs of Angelus faction are really the ones who want to hurt me."
He swallowed as he nodded slowly. "And maybe you spent your life hiding for a very good reason. I would just tread lightly. I feel very protective of you. I wouldn't want any harm to come to you."
"I think that's a risk I need to take. I have been hiding my whole life, and it's time to stop doing that. I don't want to hide anymore."
"I just want you to be careful and aware of what you're doing."
"I am." At least, I thought I was.
Then how do you explain the tranq gun in your bag?
"Good. From what I understand of the previous king, Cassius, he made a lot of enemies. And your father was very afraid. I just wouldn't want you thinking that this is the instant family you've been looking for."
"I'm not looking to run away from or toward anything. I loved my father. But I owe it to myself to find out the whole truth. And maybe these people can give it to me."
"Maybe. But read that book first. It paints a picture of people who would do anything to stay in power. And if you're going to walk right into their lives and give them access to the one thing they have been wanting all these years—you—a certain risk comes with that."
He had a point. What if they were really dangerous? What if they were going to make me marry some horrible ally? What if this was some kind of princess job?
You have an overly active imagination.
"I appreciate everything you've told me. You've been so helpful. I think I know what I need to do."
"Let me guess. What you need involves going to the Winston Isles?"
"Yeah, it does. I need to know what I'm dealing with, who I'm dealing with. I'll be careful. They won't even know I'm there. I will go as quietly as possible. No one knows who I am." Except they'd sent someone to watch me. It couldn't be a coincidence that Roone lived across the corridor and worked with me. But I needed some answers, and the only way I was going to get them was to go to the Winston Isles.
