Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6)

Home > Romance > Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6) > Page 12
Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6) Page 12

by Cyndi Friberg


  He slowed his thrusts, wanting it to last as long as possible. She licked her lips and he lowered his mouth to take advantage of the moisture. Soft and supple, her lips parted beneath his. Then her tongue pushed into his mouth, followed by a fresh surge of desire.

  Her eagerness snapped what was left of his control, hurling him toward completion. He pumped with frantic demand his mouth hovering over hers. She grabbed the backs of her knees and spread her thighs even wider.

  His balls tightened and pleasure shot up his spine. She cried out, arching off the bed as her inner muscles rippled. He grabbed her hips and buried his entire length inside her. His pleasure echoed hers, pulsing through his body as her orgasm burned into his mind. He shuddered and groaned, his seed releasing in rhythmic spurts. Balancing his weight on his knees and forearms he kissed her, savoring each aftershock until the last tingle passed.

  “Good morning.” He finally returned her greeting and they both laughed.

  She pulled his head back down for another kiss and then stretched like a contented feline. “Let’s start every day like this.”

  “Then we’d never leave this bed.”

  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she squeezed him with her inner muscles. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

  “I’d love to indulge you, sweetheart, but my day is full of appointments I’ve already rescheduled.” He reluctantly separated their bodies and rolled to her side.

  “Sucks to be king?”

  “When it forces me to leave you like this? Absolutely.”

  She ran her hands down her body and arched. “Maybe I’ll stay in bed, warm and naked, waiting for you.”

  “You’re a regular minx this morning.” He swung his legs off the side of the bed then stood and blew her a kiss. “Go say goodbye to your daughter. I think she’s heading home today.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  Not trusting himself to touch her again, he just chuckled and flashed from the room.

  Chapter Seven

  “Anyone you know?” Nasrin handed a holotab to Eagin and watched him carefully. She knew the answer, but she was curious to see if he’d admit this was the man he’d hired to terrorize Indric’s guests. They were on the railed patio beside her private swimming pool. She’d slipped on an ankle-length robe as Eagin arrived, but hadn’t bothered to tie the belt. All she wore beneath was a miniscule swimsuit designed for lazing about in the sun rather than actually swimming.

  Triggering the news file, Eagin watched the short report explaining how the body of an unidentified man had been found behind a popular bar not far from the palace. An image of the man’s face was shown and then close-ups of the elaborate tattoos that covered his arms.

  His gaze narrowed and his nostrils flared then he handed the device back to Nasrin. “How’d you find him so fast?”

  “Me?” She laughed, setting the holotab aside before continuing the conversation. “What makes you think I had anything to do with it? Indric had half of San Adrin looking for that man.”

  “How’d you know he was the shooter?” His brows arched, reinforcing the challenge.

  She hadn’t expected Eagin to make the connection so easily. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as useless as she thought. The possibility resonated for a nanosecond before she dismissed it. Eagin was good in bed, but that was his only value. She wanted Indric. Always had and always would. All she had to do now was figure out a way to so ingratiate herself with him that he’d have no choice but to make her his consort.

  “Don’t be so paranoid.” She strolled to one of the loungers and slipped out of the robe. “They haven’t released the man’s name, but I was sure I’d seen him before. I ran his image through a facial recognition database and turned up a record that goes back decades. He seemed like the type of man who wouldn’t have a problem shooting at children.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “No one was hurt. Get over it already.”

  “I think it was incredibly stupid, but I’m over it.” She draped the robe over the back of a nearby chair and sat on the lounger.

  “Are you going to try and convince me it didn’t shake him up? That he hasn’t slept a little lighter since plasma blasts whizzed by in front of his face?”

  She wasn’t sure where Eagin had been for the past day and a half, but it was obvious he hadn’t heard about the relocation. “It was a little more serious than that, my dear. One of the boys was hurt and Indric moved them to the palace to make sure they’re safe.”

  “He moved who to the palace?”

  His ignorance reinforced her disdain. A true leader would have demanded a full report from his henchmen shortly after the attack. Not only was his strategy flawed, but his follow-through was nonexistent. “Indric’s mistress and her son. They’re both at the palace being treated like honored guests.”

  He lapsed into silence for a moment then turned his hostile gaze on her. “How do you know all of this?”

  “My operatives understand the need for discretion. I have people strategically placed in all the other regions.”

  He moved to the railing that separated the pool area from the patio and stared out over the shimmering water. For a long time he didn’t speak, barely moved. Then he turned his head, his voice low and menacing as he said, “If you betray me, I’ll kill you. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Again with the paranoia.” She swung her legs onto the lounger and relaxed against the padded back. “What would I gain by betraying you?” You have no power and little wealth. You’re a good lay and that’s about it. “We want the same thing, so it’s brought us together. There’s no grand conspiracy here.”

  One corner of his mouth quirked and he turned around, leaning back against the railing. “I have a surprise for you.”

  She swept his body with a hot look, lingering on his crotch until a visible ridge formed in the front of his pants. “The same surprise you gave me last night?”

  “No.” His expression was decidedly secretive. “This is even more…explosive.” He dragged the chair she’d draped with her robe closer to the lounger and sat. “Do you know what this is?” He pulled a thin device out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Don’t squeeze it too hard or you’ll ruin my surprise.”

  There were no buttons or symbols, no indication of its function. He reached over and pressed the upper right corner and the device. A backlit control panel became visible, but she still couldn’t tell what it controlled.

  “What does it do?” She turned it over then face up again.

  He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “It launches a Rodyte attack drone.”

  She handed the controller back to him as if it had burned her fingers. “Where did you get one of those?”

  “Actually, I have two, one for Indric and one for his mistress.” He continued in a softer tone, forcing her to lean forward to hear him. “They have DNA targeting.”

  “The Rodytes have been bragging about DNA targeting for cycles,” she whispered back. “They’ve never made it work. Where did you get the—devices. You probably wasted your money.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word, couldn’t believe there was no option left but premeditated murder.

  He stood so fast he toppled the chair. “You really do think I’m an idiot, don’t you. I witnessed the functionality of the ‘devices’ firsthand. They work exactly as they were intended to work.”

  She raised the back of the lounger until she was seated upright. “And where will you get their DNA?”

  “Actually, I thought you could help me with that.” Righting the chair, he moved it out of his way and stood beside the lounger. He cupped her chin and tilted her head back so he could look into her eyes. “You continually brag about your contacts inside the palace. Is one of these famed contacts placed close enough to get us a wineglass or hairbrush from each of the targets?”

  She hesitated and his fingers tightened around her chin. “They are, but I’d rather find another way to—”

&
nbsp; “I’m sure you’d rather spread your legs for Indric and pray to every god you’ve ever heard about that somehow you conceive.” He released her chin with a push, jerking her head back. “It’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s too transparent. Everyone will know you did it.”

  “Well, you see, I’m not quite as stupid as you think. Indric is in the middle of a highly controversial negotiation with the Rodytes. He thinks their greed is more powerful than their lust for Bilarrian blood. Most of his nobles boisterously disagree. My new toys will be traced back to their manufacturer and no one will know for sure who set them in motion.”

  “Indric’s munitions scanners and defense grid are state of the art. It doesn’t matter how many people we have on the inside. There is no way to smuggle your toys inside the palace and the grid will fry any incoming projectile.”

  “Which is why we won’t attack at Indric’s palace.”

  “Everyone is on edge because of the first attack. They won’t give you another opportunity.”

  He grinned, tossing the controller from hand to hand. “Not on Bilarri, I agree. But in nine days they’re planning to visit Ontariese. The technology there is far more simplistic and there will be all sorts of distractions.”

  She didn’t know what to say. He’d caught her off-guard and presented a plan far more feasible than she’d thought possible. She didn’t want Eagin on the throne, but was there a way to twist his plan to her advantage?

  “What is happening on Ontariese in nine days?” She tried to sound mildly interested while her heart beat frantically.

  “The high queen is celebrating twenty years on the throne.”

  “And why does Indric care about the Ontarian high queen?”

  “She’s good friends with Lord Drakkin and Drakkin is good friends with Indric.”

  Nasrin simply nodded, but her mind raced on ahead. If she was going to be involved in an assassination scheme, the outcome was going to be more to her liking than what Eagin had planned. DNA targeting ensured that a specific person was taken out by the drone and that person was determined by whoever supplied the DNA. So all she needed to decide was who she wanted dead and how their death paved the way for her to become Indric’s queen.

  * * * * *

  Cinarra raised her face to the sun and sighed. She stood beside Krysta on the palace’s highest rooftop. The observation area was railed for safety and filled with an assortment of chairs and benches, but at the moment they were the only ones enjoying the view. Camp Rabadah spread out all around them, a patchwork of contrasting shapes and colors, much like the people who occupied the city.

  “I researched San Adrin when I realized this was where Drakkin had stashed you, but this is so different from how I pictured it.”

  “Not all of San Adrin is this civilized. Some of the tribes still live in tents and resent anyone who tries to tame the desert. They know secrets the desert has only shared with them and they like it that way.”

  “Aunt Krysta!” Both women turned as Betaul and Prince Dravon came bounding across the rooftop. Ametto and one of the other guards followed close behind.

  “Are we interrupting?” Ametto’s deep voice easily spanned the distance as he tried in vain to slow the boys’ approach.

  “They’re fine, Ametto,” Cinarra called. “We welcome the company.”

  At Ametto’s signal, his fellow guard took up a post near the exit door and Ametto moved to a strategic corner where he could see the entire rooftop without being intrusive.

  “You weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?” Betaul sounded hurt by the possibility.

  Krysta knelt and hugged the boy, tousling his dark hair. “Of course not. We stopped by your classroom earlier, but you weren’t there.”

  “We were riding hoverbikes around the obstacle course. This place is twisted sideways. They have everything here.”

  Krysta returned his beaming smile and asked, “Twisted sideways is good?”

  “Way beyond good.” Betaul looked at Cinarra and said, “Dravon gets to stay for two more moon cycles. Can I stay here too? It’s way better than our house.”

  “That’s up to King Indric, but I’ll let him know you’re enjoying yourself.”

  “I like having Betaul here too,” Dravon told her, his demeanor far more dignified than his excited friend. “Make sure you tell him that.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  As Betaul gave Krysta another hug, a blur of motion drew Cinarra’s attention toward the exit door. The guard was halfway across the rooftop, long knife raised with lethal intent. Instinct engaged and she knocked his legs out from under him with a low, sweeping kick. He fell forward, but she threw herself between him and her loved ones, shoving him sideways with all her strength.

  Ametto quickly moved to the guard’s other side and stomped on his forearm. The unmistakable snap of breaking bone seemed extremely loud in the shocked silence. The guard screamed and Ametto kicked the knife out of reach as he sounded the alarm. “Code Seven to rooftop three. No injuries, but I need backup now!”

  No injuries? She looked at the man writhing at their feet. Apparently the assailant didn’t count.

  A guard flashed into sight, rifle shouldered and ready to fire. Then another guard appeared and another. Soon the rooftop was teaming with guards and security personnel, some in uniforms others dressed informally so they could blend in with a crowd.

  Indric appeared a moment later. His fearful gaze assessed the situation as he drew Cinarra into his arms. “Everyone is all right?” He was looking at Ametto, so Cinarra let Ametto reply.

  “I can’t believe Fahdeal tried this. I’ve known him for years.” Fahdeal lay on his side, injured arm pressed against his chest. Ametto covered him with a pulse pistol as the other man rocked and moaned.

  “I didn’t do this,” Fahdeal cried, bloodshot eyes beseeching Indric. “I would never harm your queen.”

  Cinarra shook her head. “There’s no one else up here. Besides, I saw him with my own eyes.”

  “As did I.” Ametto hauled Fahdeal to his feet. Fahdeal cried out at the sudden motion. Then other guards surrounded Fahdeal and led him away. Ametto remained on the rooftop, but he finally holstered his gun. “I am so sorry, Sire. This is the second time I’ve failed you.”

  “If no one was hurt, you did your job,” Indric told him.

  “Madam Mazodie had him incapacitated before I could make it across the rooftop.” Ametto glanced at her as he added, “She’s very brave.”

  “Yes, she is.” Indric gave her another hug, kissed her hair then eased away. “Does Fahdeal have the technical knowledge needed to disable a safety shield?”

  Ametto nodded, his expression suddenly troubled. “I’m with you, Sire. That must have been why the shooter didn’t set off the alarm. Fahdeal had everything ready for him.”

  “Oversee the interrogation,” Indric directed. “I’ll join you once I get my guests situated.”

  “Yes, Sire.” Ametto strode from the roof with purposeful steps.

  Betaul still clung to Krysta, eyes wide and frightened. Cinarra went and knelt behind him, sandwiching his trembling body between the two women who loved him most. “It’s all right, B. Now we know who the bad man was. We’ll all be safe from now on.”

  He released Krysta and turned around, his voice barely a whisper. “But Ametto made him do it.”

  The conviction in his voice sent a shiver down Cinarra’s spine. “What are you talking about, love? Ametto was on the other side of the roof. How could he have made Fahdeal do anything?”

  He started to say something then shook his head. “Never mind. I’m glad he didn’t hurt you.”

  Fahdeal’s charge had seemed wild, almost random, as if he didn’t care who he hurt. “So am I.” She kissed Betaul’s forehead then stood up.

  “We need to move off the roof,” Indric decided. “It’s too exposed up here.”

  Cinarra thought the precaution was unnecessary, but she didn’t a
rgue. The attack had been more unsettling than frightening. She could still see the look on Fahdeal’s face, dazed, unfocused, as if—like Betaul had said—someone else were controlling him. And why use a knife when he had a pulse pistol strapped to his side? It didn’t make sense.

  Guards surrounded the boys as they made their way downstairs. Cinarra and Krysta followed the small crowd and Indric descended behind them.

  When they reached the third floor’s central corridor, Indric pulled Cinarra back into his arms. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m fine, but did you hear what Betaul said?”

  “That Ametto was controlling Fahdeal?”

  “Yes. Is it possible? Can all San Adrins send mental compulsions?” Indric certainly commanded others with effortless ease. The ability had never seemed quite so menacing before.

  “My gift is extremely rare and other than the Sensitivity required for his position, Ametto doesn’t have any supernatural abilities.”

  “You know him better than I do. But I have no idea why Betaul would have said that unless he sensed something.”

  “He was terrified. This is the second time in just a few days that his life has been in danger.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with him, but she knew Betaul better than anyone. He wouldn’t make up something like that. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess this upset me more than I thought.”

  “If Krysta stays with you, will you be all right? It might be a few hours before I can return.”

  “I’m fine, Indric. Really. Krysta doesn’t need to babysit me. She has a flight to catch.”

  “They can’t leave without me.” Krysta smiled. “I’m the only passenger.”

  “I’ll com the spaceport and let the crew know you’re running late,” he told Krysta. Then he kissed Cinarra and hurried off down the corridor.

  “He really is kind of sweet, in an arrogant Bilarrian way,” Krysta said as they made their way to Cinarra’s suite. She didn’t speak again until they were alone in the sitting room. The guards had taken up posts in the hallway, so she spoke in a hushed tone. “Betaul wasn’t just babbling. He sensed something.”

 

‹ Prev