She tapped a key and a message flashed across the screen.
She leaned forward. Neatly typed black words practically shouted at her.
Leave Vashmira within the hour and never return. Say nothing to anyone. Fail to heed any part of my demand and Nicholas will die.
The threat to Nicholas scared her enough to sap the strength from her legs. Sagging into a chair, she reread the demand, wondering who’d had access to her laptop while she’d been gone.
Ericka might have encountered danger many times in her career, but worrying over Nicholas’ safety knocked her normal strength right out of her. As if in a nightmare, she read the demand again, hoping, praying, that this time the words would be different. Of, course they weren’t. Nicholas had a traitor in his midst. One who boldly entered the palace at will. Her fear for Nicholas escalated as she realized how easily the assassin had murdered his father. Despite increased palace security, could the same killer get to Nicholas?
She should gather her things. Leave. Leave without saying one word to Nicholas, who would undoubtably try to stop her. She should go. Now.
Don’t panic.
Natalie Belosova wouldn’t evade the palace security teams for long. She’d be brought in for questioning.
But Natalie could be innocent. The general had named two villagers who also had had access to his home. However, only Natalie had known the history of the timer, been on the beach the day the boat exploded and had free rein of the palace grounds.
Sure, eventually security would catch her. Ice seemed to replace the blood in Ericka’s veins while her mind whirled with suspicions. Was Natalie working alone? Could there be a conspiracy?
Ericka shivered, yanked the coverlet from Nicholas’ bed and dragged it over her shoulders. Rocking, she hugged herself, thinking she should go. Nicholas meant so much to her. She would never forgive herself if she selfishly stayed and her actions put him in danger. She could sacrifice spending a lifetime with him if her actions would save his life.
Oh, hell.
If she abandoned Nicholas, he would see her action as the ultimate betrayal. He would think of her as he did his mother, as a coward, a foreigner, a traitor. He’d curse her soul to the end of his days. Nicholas had many great qualities, but she sensed he wouldn’t ever forget or forgive the kind of betrayal she was considering—especially since asking her to talk to him before she left had been the only request he’d made of her. If she sneaked away like a thief in the night, she’d slice his pride to shreds, destroy his faith in her. Yet, she’d prefer his hating her to his death.
But that was her preference. She knew—because he had told her so—that he would prefer to make the decision himself. Was it wrong of her to take the decision away from him?
Yes.
What the hell was she going to do? Stay and risk his life? Or go and betray the man she loved?
Damn. She should pack. Leave him before he returned. She couldn’t maintain a stoic front as he could. He’d take one look into her eyes and see her pain, realize she was seriously considering something drastic, like whether or not to flee.
Didn’t he have the right to decide whether to risk his own life? And suddenly she realized how much she loved him—enough to honor his wishes—enough to allow him to risk his life—even if she preferred otherwise.
She’d thought leaving the man she loved would be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she was wrong. Staying would be oh-so-much more difficult. Terrifyingly difficult. Every moment she would fear for his safety. Every time they were together, she’d fear it could be their last. If she stayed, she’d have to live every minute knowing that if she’d complied with the anonymous demand she could have kept Nicholas safe.
Did she love him enough to allow him to risk his life? The question tore at her heart, ripped at her soul. She’d lost her father and her mother. She knew the pain of loving and losing those she loved, didn’t know where she would find the courage to stay and watch Nicholas fight for his life—but she would find that bravery—or she would fake it.
Heart aching but the decision made, Ericka calmly glanced at her laptop’s screen again. Maybe Ira could dust the keypad for fingerprints.
Ericka slapped the desk and stood, then heard an odd thud from the direction of the far bedroom wall where heavy draperies hung. She turned and saw a drape flutter and a musty breeze wafted across the room. She told herself an open window was the cause of the sudden breeze, but the draperied wall didn’t face a courtyard or outer wall and served as mere decoration.
The curtain fluttered again.
Determined, fear slicing her stomach like barbwire, Ericka hauled up the gun and pointed it at the drapes.
And heard a high-pitched laugh.
Chapter Thirteen
“Nicholas?” The immature voice floated across the room on a stream of wind.
Ericka continued to aim the gun at the rippling drapes. Someone had sneaked behind them, but why hadn’t palace security noticed?
A chill swept over her as she considered whether someone on the security team had deliberately missed checking behind the drapes. If she called out, would help come?
“Nicholas. Where are you?” The high-pitched voice from behind the curtains sounded feminine and eerie.
Ericka considered fleeing from the room, but this might be the best chance to stop whoever was after her. Were they calling for Nicholas because it was his room?
Torn between screaming for the guards and keeping quiet to surprise the prowler, Ericka held her breath, remaining silent and still. She didn’t know whether to hope the assassin was about to come out from behind the draperies or not. Didn’t know whether she could pull the trigger or not.
A hand lifted the drape. A very tiny hand. The hand of a woman, perhaps. Or a child.
“Uncle Nicholas?”
“Dimitri?”
No assassin, just Nicholas’ little brother, slowly emerged, first his feet, then his dirty coveralls.
With a sigh of relief and frustration, Ericka lowered the gun, flicked on the safety and set the weapon on top of a six-foot-tall dresser where the mischievous boys couldn’t possibly reach it.
By the time she turned back, Dimitri had lifted the bottom of the heavy drape for Nikita and then the two boys crawled into the room and stood up. Sticky cobwebs in their hair, their white teeth shining through the dust and grime on their faces, both children grinned at her. She didn’t know whether to kiss them or scold them.
Dimitri held a flashlight in one hand and took his brother’s hand with the other. “I told you we could find Nicholas’ rooms.”
“We did it,” Nikita agreed. “Where’s Nicholas?”
“He’s working,” Ericka answered, confounded by their appearance. How had they evaded their mother and palace security? “How did you two guys get in here?”
“Shh.” Dimitri flicked off the flashlight and set it down by his feet, then straightened and lifted a filthy finger to his dusty lips. “It’s a secret.”
Heart still pounding, Ericka hurried to the wall and lifted the thick material of the drapes. Beyond the paneled wall lay a dark passageway. A secret tunnel.
She’d be willing to bet her entire advance that Zared’s assassin had used a similar tunnel to get away from the royal office. There might be an entire labyrinth of passages—especially if the kids had traveled from Sophia’s quarters all the way to Nicholas’.
And that person had used the same passages to plant the note in her room and leave undetected. Somehow the secret corridors had to have been concealed for years, maybe centuries, or Nicholas certainly would have known about them. “How do you go in and out?”
Dimitri leaned over and tripped a tiny lever set between two wooden panels. The opening silently slid shut. “Neat, huh?”
The wall now appeared solid. Looking at the wall, no one would have guessed what lay behind it.
While her mind spun with theories, Ericka took both boys by the hand and led them toward the bathroom. “Ho
w did you guys get in there?”
“There’s lots of secret doors. Once you know the secret, finding them is easy. The hard part is not getting lost,” Dimitri told her.
Ericka sighed, glad the two boys had traveled through the dark passages unharmed. “Somehow, I think Sophia might be looking for you two.”
“She’s not,” Nikita said, frowning as Ericka took a clean hand towel off the rack, wet it under the running faucet and wrung it out.
Kneeling, she wiped Nikita’s face clean, then used the other side on Dimitri. “Why isn’t your mom looking for you?”
“She thinks we’re sleeping,” Dimitri told her. “We need to go back before she figures out—”
“No way am I letting you two disappear inside that dark passage,” Ericka told them.
“But—” Dimitri protested.
Ericka reached over to an intercom. “Can someone connect me to Sophia, please?”
The intercom clicked and a moment later Ericka heard Sophia’s soft, sleepy voice. “Yes?”
“This is Ericka Allen. Your sons have come to visit me again.”
“Again? They are supposed to be sleeping.” Sophia sounded as if she’d been taking a nap herself. “How did they evade their guards?”
“I’ll show you when you arrive. I’m in Nicholas’ suite. Could you please bring him with you, too?”
“I’ll try. And don’t let those rascals out of your sight.”
“Uh oh.” Nikita’s bottom lip quivered. “She sounded mad.”
“Are we in trouble?” Dimitri asked Ericka.
“What do you think?” Ericka led the boys back into the bedroom, sat in a chair and pulled both of them onto her lap. “Suppose you got stuck between the walls and nobody knew where you were?”
“The tunnels are too big to get stuck.”
“Suppose you got lost?”
Dimitri shoved his hands into his pockets and dribbled crumbs onto the floor. “I dropped crackers, so we could find our way back.”
“That was smart, but suppose a cat or a bug ate your crackers? Then you would have been lost, and we wouldn’t have been able to find you.”
“We could have banged on the walls.” Dimitri had an answer for everything. He was a bright, resourceful kid, but he had to be made to understand that he couldn’t go off exploring on his own.
“Dimitri, this palace is very big. You might have pounded on the walls for a very long time before we found you. Promise me that the next time you guys go exploring, you’ll take a guard with you.”
“They ruin all the fun,” Nikita complained.
“They’ll keep you safe.”
Sophia rushed into the apartment with Nicholas several steps behind her. Sophia took one look at the boys and sighed. “You will take both a shower and a bath tonight.”
“Ah, mother.”
“Don’t you ‘ah, mother’ me, young man. You’ve gone too far this time.”
“We stayed right inside the palace,” Dimitri argued.
Sophia nodded at Ericka. “Thank you for finding them.”
“Actually they found me.” Ericka pulled back the heavy drape. “Go on, Dimitri. Show your Uncle Nicholas how you sneaked past all his guards.”
The child pressed the lever, and the panel whisked open. Air and dust blew into the room. “Cool, huh?”
Nicholas patted the child on the head and exchanged a long look with Ericka over the significance of the passageway. “You may have just solved a huge mystery.”
“Is that good or bad?” Dimitri asked.
At his question, Sophia, Ericka and Nicholas chuckled.
Dimitri rolled his eyes at the odd behavior of the adults and took his brother’s hand. Sophia departed with the kids, leaving Nicholas and Ericka alone.
Nicholas frowned at the opening and called his guards.
Two uniformed men rushed into his suite. Nicholas drew back the drape and pointed to the tunnel. “You two guard this entrance. And be on the lookout for others that lead into my quarters.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Have the chief talk to my brothers about the secret entrances and send men to flush out Natalie Belosova. I want her alive.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
MINUTES LATER, NICHOLAS received a message from Ira through the intercom system. “Your Majesty, we’ve cornered Natalie. She’s standing on the tower and threatening to jump unless you come and speak to her.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“I’m coming with you,” Ericka told him. Even though she realized she still had smudges of dirt on her face from holding the children, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. “Where and what is the tower?”
He took her hand, and they sprinted down several long corridors. Surprised servants and busy aides jumped out of the way. “The tower is a circular structure that was once manned by sentinels and overlooks the outer bailey. That part of the palace hasn’t been renovated in the last thousand years.”
Ericka matched his long stride. “Natalie must have figured she wouldn’t be found there.”
“The walls are crumbling. When we arrive, you will watch your step. Stay back.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I’ll be just as careful as you are.”
There was no sarcasm in her tone this time, just concern. Obviously she worried over his safety as much as he worried over hers. Instead of feeling annoyance the thought warmed him.
Nicholas led Ericka outside and then up a crumbling stairwell probably built by Crusaders. Breathing hard, they reached the tower to find Natalie standing precariously inside a turret, her body flattened into a crenel, a spot from where archers once shot flaming arrows, her signature white hair flying loose around her drawn face.
Ira stepped forward. “We believe she’s unarmed, Your Highness, but I would advise that you go no closer.”
Nicholas nodded and shouted. “I’m here, Natalie. No one will hurt you. You can come down, now.”
Natalie leaned out over the bailey far below with a perilous disregard for her life. “Anton and Larissa had no part in my actions. I never meant to hurt anyone.”
“Of course, you didn’t. Come down so we can all talk,” Nicholas told her.
Natalie didn’t budge, except to shake her head. Nicholas noted she’d kicked off her shoes and gripped the stones with her fingers and toes.
“The car at the park was simply a ruse to scare the American,” Natalie explained.
“What about the boat explosion?” Ericka asked. “That incident almost wiped out the royal family.”
Natalie shook her head. “That was simply to frighten you into going home.” So, Ira had been correct. The boat had been aiming at Ericka. “The remote control device was tricky to operate. I would never—”
Natalie’s foot slipped. She gasped and with sheer determination clung to the crumbling stone wall. “Nicholas was supposed to marry Larissa. My daughter should have been queen. For that matter I should have been queen.”
“You?” Nicholas frowned. For a moment he thought the woman was mad. Natalie was a married woman. And then he realized, Natalie was speaking, not about marrying him, but his father. But as far as Nicholas knew there had been nothing between this woman and Zared—but perhaps she’d wanted him. Natalie had always been ambitious. Nicholas wasn’t all that surprised to learn she’d aspired to be Vashmira’s queen. When his father hadn’t been interested, had she become so heartbroken and emotionally damaged that she’d turned against Zared and plotted his assassination?
“I loved your father, Nicholas.”
Love and hate were often two sides to the same coin. “Did you kill him?” he demanded, his voice harsh, his throat tight.
“I loved him,” Natalie insisted.
“But did you kill him so Larissa would marry me and become queen?”
“I didn’t—” Natalie’s foot slipped. She teetered on the edge. Screamed. Arms waving, feet kicking, she plunged to her death.
And in that horrible mo
ment, Nicholas knew he would never have the answers he’d sought for so long.
“Oh, God.” Ericka flung her arms around him, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Sorry, she’s dead. Sorry, you’ll never know for certain if she killed your father.”
He hugged Ericka tightly. “For Anton and Larissa, it’s better this way. And I have to believe that Natalie was guilty. My father must have disappointed her terribly when he expressed no romantic interest in her. Then she probably pinned all her hopes on Larissa becoming queen.”
“And when she finally understood her dream wasn’t going to happen, she snapped.”
“It’s over,” Nicholas told Ericka. “It’s time to look forward now.”
NICHOLAS TOOK A CALL from Anton and then led Ericka to his quarters. She took one look in the dresser mirror at the dirt on her clothes from holding Dimitri and Nikita after they’d come through the secret tunnels and headed straight for the bathroom. “I need a shower, but I want to know why Ira is so positive that Natalie sent the bomb to me.”
Nicholas followed her into the bathroom and watched with interest as she kicked off her shoes. “Ira found Natalie’s thumb print on the bomb’s explosive packaging—not just the timer.”
Ericka unbuttoned her filthy blouse and enjoyed the flare of heat in Nicholas’ gaze. “You think she told us the truth and really meant only to scare me away?”
“We’ll never know for certain. However, she certainly used those secret passages, and she admitted to knowing about the car in the park and the boat on the beach. Whether she expected palace security to intercept the package and stop that bomb from arriving in your quarters, we’ll never know.” He paused, then continued. “Anton offered his resignation, but I hate to accept it since he knew nothing of his wife’s duplicity. He’s negotiated a settlement with the Americans and the Israelis. Each party has agreed to accept half of the Russian refugees.”
Nicholas reached out and his clever fingers helped her with her blouse buttons, making it difficult for her to concentrate. “And the Russians?”
“Have agreed to let the refugees emigrate.”
She shimmied out of her blouse. “What will you do about Anton?”
Royal Target Page 18
