Latvala Royals: Darkest Hours

by Danielle Bourdon

  “You’ve got a nasty burn on the back of your shoulder. Do you even feel it?” Mattias asked.

  “No.” Sander realized he didn’t feel much of anything except the constant pain throbbing beneath his ribs. As if some great beast was attempting to claw its way from his body. “I’ll be back.”

  He headed for the debris field, determined to find survivors but expecting to find more dead bodies.

  “Dare.”

  He paused and glanced back to Mattias.

  “Remember that we might have visitors soon. If someone sabotaged the plane and meant to kill us all, they might be on their way to make sure they accomplished their task.”

  Chapter 16

  Elias entered the conference room long minutes later with Eliana and Erick at his heels. His mother was alone, a good sign as far as he was concerned, though her restless pacing told him better than words that something was wrong.

  Something new since they’d left.

  “Elias! Did you find Emily?” Chey asked. She darted a look past him to the others.

  He recognized the instant his mom didn’t find Emily among her children. Her expression fell.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. She wasn’t being held in the dungeon. There were men down there, though, in one of the caverns. They had set up a staging area,” Elias explained. He set a hand on her shoulder, offering what comfort he could. There was little peace to be found for any of them with Emily missing and their father’s condition unknown.

  “Did you question them? They should know where she is,” Chey said.

  “No. We got into a shootout. They’re all dead.” Elias took no great pleasure in delivering the news. Their situation might have improved if they’d had at least one man to interrogate.

  “I’ve been thinking about where else they might be holding her,” Eliana said.

  “It’s too late, Ellie.” Chey turned away, a look of distress on her face.

  “What do you mean?” Elias asked.

  “Kirkley came in five minutes ago. Another note was found in the foyer. We have fifteen minutes to relinquish control and surrender or they’re going to kill Emily.”

  “Wait. They found a note in the foyer?” Elias asked.

  “I’d hoped you’d found Emily and had her with you, and that the note would mean nothing. Maybe they’d sent it as a last chance kind of thing. An act of desperation. But they still have her and I think they mean business,” Chey said as if she hadn’t heard her son speak.

  Elias noticed his mother hadn’t actually answered his question. She was thinking ahead to the unthinkable, voicing her thoughts aloud.

  “Mom.” Elias clipped the word to gain his mother’s attention. It worked. Chey snapped a look at his face.

  “You said they found the note in the foyer?” he asked again.

  “Yes. In the foyer. On one of the tables.”

  Elias clenched his teeth as a flash of fury swept through him.

  They were being played. All of them.

  And he’d had enough.

  “Erick, Eliana, back me up.” Elias crossed to the door and exited without another word.

  “Wait, Elias!”

  His mother’s plea fell on deaf ears. He was through playing games.

  “Kirkley, tell your men to follow my lead,” Elias whispered to the commander as he passed. He withdrew a handgun from his shoulder holster, broke through the protective circle of guards, and aimed the gun at the councilmen. The advisors and a handful of other security also fell under the weight of his fury. Erick and Eliana drew their weapons and did as he’d asked, covering his back while keeping an eye on everyone in the foyer. Daylight had begun to spill in the tall windows, throwing soft light across Kallaster’s stone floor.

  “Gentlemen,” Elias said, raising his voice above the gasps of shock and urgent whispers between councilmen and advisors. “I know one of you is in charge of Emily’s disappearance and the coup attempt. There is no other way a note could have magically appeared on a table in the same foyer you have all been loitering in for the past few hours unless one of you put it there. One—or two, or three—of you have been watching closely, haven’t you, waiting for the right time to strike. You’ve been passing information via one of these.” Elias used his other hand to pull one of the radios from his vest. “Secretly calling those working with you elsewhere in the castle to feed them information.”

  A mild uproar greeted his accusation.

  Elias surveyed each man’s expression, waiting for the guilty party to give himself away.

  “Holding advisors and councilmen at gunpoint?” one of the men raged. “Unheard of!”

  “This is preposterous! No one here is guilty of anything!”

  “You go far beyond your means, Prince Elias!”

  The uproar continued. Elias allowed it to as he brought one man after the other beneath the stare of his gun. Kirkley’s team fanned out through the foyer, correctly interpreting that he wanted the entire group surrounded, even down to the regular security who had been in the foyer with the rest.

  “You have underestimated me if you think I’ll allow you to execute my sister to gain control of Latvala. How does it feel to have the tables turned? I’ll have my answers or there will be hell to pay, I promise you,” Elias said.

  Ripples of disbelief, bewilderment, and suspicion passed among the group. Elias noted that Risto was especially indignant, stomping his cane often. Henricksson and Alvar were among those accusing Elias right back, and still others seemed conflicted over what to say or who to lambaste.

  “You will lose your right to the throne over this,” Henricksson declared.

  “On the contrary, Henricksson. I am not only protecting my family, I am protecting Latvala as a country. Those who are not traitors among us, who have not sold out to whatever power threatens to oust us, will be relieved that I took such an extraordinary step. Now, I’ll ask one more time. Which of you are the perpetrators of my sister’s abduction?”

  Chey stood next to Eliana and Erick as the scene with Elias unfolded. To say she was shocked at the unprecedented step he’d taken was an understatement. No king or heir had ever brought the entire inner political apparatus under the weight of a gun. She felt relief and turmoil in equal measures. If Elias’s blunt plan failed to produce a result that ended in Emily’s release, she wasn’t sure what step he would take next. On the other hand, she could see by the looks on the councilmen and advisor’s faces that Elias had caught them off guard. He had surprised them and thrown the entire congregation into turmoil. Would the innocent turn on the guilty? Did the innocent even realize there were guilty among them? Which advisors would back Elias and which would fight back on principle alone?

  I’ll ask one more time. Which of you are the perpetrators of my sister’s abduction?

  She studied the faces of the men closely and was disturbed to see no worthwhile reactions from those she expected to be in on the plot. The men were playing the game well. They knew Elias had no solid proof, no evidence to display in front of the crowd. Only educated guesses that were not convincing enough to sway others of absolute guilt.

  While the standoff continued, Chey fretted about Emily’s safety. The minutes had ticked by unchecked—would the abductors follow through with their threat? Would the next note be a declaration of her death?

  Her stomach churned. Both for Emily’s predicament and Sander’s unknown status.

  The radio in Elias’s vest crackled to life and one word spilled into the tense atmosphere of the foyer.

  “Status?”

  The abductors were calling in to find out whether or not to kill Emily. Chey covered her lips with her fingers in an effort to stifle her noises of fear. That the abductors were inquiring of someone else what to do indicated there were others involved, as they’d suspected. But who? And what would Elias do now? If he answered the call himself and announced he had the advisors at gunpoint, it might trigger the men to kill Emily on the spot. If Elias allowed the call to go unanswer
ed, it could trigger them anyway. It seemed a no-win situation if Elias couldn’t accurately pinpoint the traitors in time.

  And then her son did something completely unexpected. Chey watched in shock as Elias upped the ante. He swung the gun toward Henricksson’s legs.

  “The perpetrators have five seconds to come forward before I start blowing out people’s knees. Risto, Henricksson, and Langtry, you’re first.”

  Chapter 17

  On his way through the debris field, Sander checked his weapons. Miraculously, he found both handguns still in their holsters. He’d been so disoriented after coming to, and then distracted by trying to find his brother and Leander, that he’d not paid any attention to the vest. He found two extra magazines, though he’d lost two somewhere along the way.

  As he passed a shattered section of wing, he paused to lean and catch his breath. Coughing fits plagued him even though he wasn’t in the direct path of the smoke. That clawing, shredding, slicing sensation beneath his ribs increased until he doubled over, clenched his teeth, and waited for the spasm to pass.

  Minutes later, the sky opened up.

  Rain fell in drenching sheets, blanketing the terrain.

  Sander withstood the downpour and pushed away from the wing. He didn’t know how he would hear any incoming vehicles through the cracks of thunder, and decided he would have to be extra alert for flashes of light that were not lightning but the shine of headlights instead.

  His search began at the spot between the nose and tail sections, where other pieces of the plane had broken over the ground in large chunks. He sifted through all manner of wreckage, pushing aside split seats and an intact window.

  Weird, he thought, how that single window had survived the impact.

  Five minutes later, he came across a foot protruding from beneath a round bit of metal that might have once encased an engine. When he pushed on the section to move it a few inches, he discovered that there was nothing attached to the foot. No body, certainly no survivor.

  He moved on, disgusted and angry.

  One man left.

  One guard who might or might not be alive.

  Sander staggered through the downpour, ignoring body parts scattered over the ground.

  Propped against a rectangular, mangled trunk that had once been a part of the galley, a guard sat slumped with his legs sprawled at ungainly angles, head lolled to the side. Even through the pelting rain, Sander recognized a shock of white hair.

  “Olen!” Sander shouted to be heard above a crack of thunder. It was a miracle he’d been able to see the guard due to the decreasing visibility. “Hang on, I’m coming.”

  He battled his way through minor shards of the plane’s exterior and came upon Olen a moment later. A huge wave of relief washed through him as he crouched down to get on the guard’s level. Sander ignored the searing pain in his ribs as he started to reach out and shake Olen awake, only to realize the guard had been sliced open from ear to sternum. The rain had pasted thick layers of clothing over most of the wound, obliterating it from view.

  Sander lowered his head and mourned the loss.

  All five guards dead. Both pilots deceased.

  Leander dead until he’d managed to revive him. Sander felt lucky anyone had escaped the crash alive.

  After several minutes, he rose to his feet and headed back toward Mattias, Leander, and Jeremiah. There was nothing left in the wreckage to search for. Mattias said communications were out, and he didn’t feel it necessary to risk entering the nose of the plane to double check. Better to save his energy and find a way back to civilization.

  If their enemy didn’t find them first.

  The rain eased and ceased altogether by the time he was halfway back to the spot where he’d left Mattias and the others. It seemed getting back was harder than it had been going away, likely due to overexertion. A glance at the churning sky assured him the weather wasn’t done with them yet, which was just one more hurdle to overcome out there in the wilds.

  He paused when he thought he heard someone shout his name. He realized he’d been walking at a sluggish pace, staring down at the ground rather than observing his surroundings as he should have been. Mattias, Leander, and Jeremiah were headed his way, waving at him in the manner that meant he should turn around and go back toward the plane.

  For a moment, Sander wondered if he was hallucinating. Blood rushed through his ears and his head felt fuzzy. He ran a hand over his face and closed his eyes for a count of three. When he looked again, Mattias, Leander, and Jeremiah were still there and still gesturing. That was when he glimpsed a wink of light far beyond the wreckage, coming from the opposite direction.

  A frisson of alarm raced through his system.

  Their enemies had found them at last.

  A hit of adrenaline cleared his senses and propelled him forward. He slung an arm around Mattias’s shoulders to help guide him toward the nose of the plane. Jeremiah and Leander hobbled along as fast as they could manage.

  Twenty feet from the fuselage, Sander heard the first crack of gunfire.

  He cursed vividly, in no mood to be involved in a shootout that he likely wouldn’t win. With Mattias at his side, he quickly took cover around the backside of the plane, putting the wreckage between them and the approaching all-terrain vehicle.

  “Bastards,” Mattias muttered.

  Sander couldn’t have agreed more.

  Jeremiah and Leander crouched nearby, both checking the status of their weapons.

  “We’re in no condition to fight,” Jeremiah said, wincing as he put strain on his broken arm.

  “That hasn’t stopped us before,” Sander said. “Get ready. They’re almost here.”

  Chapter 18

  It was do or die. There was no time left to bargain with the treasonous bastards running the show inside Kallaster Castle. Elias gripped the gun tightly, ready to follow through with his threat. He was absolutely done pandering to the enemy within. Emily’s life hung by a thread and he refused to take any more chances.

  Chaos erupted once again between councilmen and advisors. Pleas filled the foyer, along with accusations and affront. But he’d glimpsed the thing he’d been looking for on the faces of Langtry and Henricksson: guilt. Perhaps it had been the angle, or the timing. Nevertheless, he recognized the spark of knowledge and intent, which was why he’d taken things to the next level. All Henricksson and Langtry needed was the proper motivation to confess.

  “Wait! Wait,” Langtry said. He mopped his brow with a handkerchief and shot an accusing glance at Henricksson.

  “Don’t,” Henricksson said through clenched teeth.

  “Three, two . . .” Elias voiced the countdown so that Langtry was once more motivated to speak.

  “Wait!” Langtry cried, waving his hands in a sign of surrender. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  “Langtry!” Henricksson took a threatening step toward Langtry.

  “Don’t. Move.” Elias issued the order to Henricksson, who wisely halted in his tracks. His face was a dark mask of fury, further proof of his guilt.

  Elias had all the evidence he needed. There was no doubt who the traitors were, or at least two of them. There might be more, and he would figure that out as soon as he made sure Emily was safe. He approached Henricksson with the radio in hand.

  “You’re going to tell your comrades that the throne has been taken and to bring Emily alive to the foyer. If I detect so much as a hint of deception, or that you’re attempting to pass along a hidden message, I’ll follow through with my threat. Believe this, Henricksson. I will take you out.” He pushed the radio forward, gestured for silence from everyone else in the foyer, and pushed the button to talk.

  Henricksson’s eyes glittered with defiance. He must have reconsidered in the end, however, because he put his mouth near the receiver to speak.

  “We have control. Bring the girl to the foyer,” he said.

  Elias released the button.

  “Copy,” came a
voice on the other end.

  “Commander Kirkley, arrest Henricksson, Langtry, and Risto. Hold the others for questioning,” Elias said. “I want the top security members detained as well until we find out just how far the disease has spread.”

  “Yes, Prince Elias,” Kirkley said. He and his men rounded up the councilmen and advisors and herded them into separate rooms. The security guards were held elsewhere for the time being.

  By the time the foyer was mostly cleared of people, the castle had come fully awake. Staff members and employees ready to start their day emerged from hallways and the upper floors, some none the wiser as to what had transpired overnight and into the early morning. Kirkley and four of his men returned to divert the traffic away from the foyer, so that when a trio of men in camouflage descended the staircase with Emily in tow, there wasn’t a risk of more hostage taking or injury to the innocent.

  The trio of men initially attempted to draw their weapons but failed to beat Kirkley and his men to the punch. Elias, Erick, and Eliana stood by with their guns drawn as well, providing extra cover. It was a tense standoff that, thankfully, only lasted a few seconds.

  Emily finished the descent to the foyer with a startling amount of calm control. Elias swept his sister into a hug before ordering Kirkley to detain the men for questioning. Chey snagged her daughter for a tight hug just as Elias broke away from the group to have a private word with Kirkley. He instructed the commander to have his men question the traitors and keep them under lock and key until further notice. He wanted everyone on guard and searching for any leftover assailants still loose in the castle.

  “Also, Kirkley, find out who cut the power and scrambled communication and get both up and running,” Elias said. “The sooner, the better.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Kirkley issued orders to his men and departed the foyer.

  Elias holstered his weapon, finally, and gathered his family close. “That’s step one. Now we have to figure out just how far inland Latvala has been infiltrated. Keep up your guard and stay watchful. I won’t feel better until we have total control back and have eradicated every last one of the bastards. Our very next task, though, is to find out whether Pop’s plane went down and if there were any survivors.”