Xander (Royal Protectors Book 2)

by Kat Mizera

  Using my master key, I threw open the door to Elen’s room and froze. She was leaning over her bed, coughing up a lung, her entire body shaking from the force of it. I grimaced, knowing what was coming and unsure what to do. Sandor had thought she was fine since she’d returned to work already, but she didn’t sound fine.

  “You okay?” I asked, grimacing as she jumped.

  “You’re not really going…to…do…this…” She started coughing all over again.

  “Should we call a doctor?” I asked her.

  “No!” She started coughing even harder.

  “Elen, I think—”

  “Just this one time, could you please tell Sandor I’m sick?” She reached for a water bottle.

  “I can’t.”

  She got to her feet and pushed past me. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  She continued to cough as we hurried down the hallway toward tonight’s exit. There was a plethora of tunnels beneath the castle. The originals had been there for years, and most of the royal family knew about them. The late King Anwar could have told any of his allies they existed, so Erik had set about sealing them all off and creating new ones. Only those of us who were part of his team now knew which were the real ones and which were sealed off. Elen had a good handle on what was what, but tonight she was coughing and lagging behind.

  “We need to go,” I said. “Come on.”

  “I can’t,” she huffed behind me. “My chest is on fire.”

  “Elen, we’re being timed. If this was real…”

  “But it’s not, so shut up and let me catch my breath.”

  I hesitated for less than a second before I scooped her up and carried her.

  “God dammit, Xander!”

  She kicked out her legs, but I wasn’t letting her go and she sure as hell wasn’t stronger than me. I picked up my pace because we were going to be the last ones to arrive, as usual, and I was going to get my ass chewed even though everyone knew how much Elen resisted the drills. I rounded the corner and hit the hidden button under a wall sconce as Elen slid to the ground. The nightgown she’d put on since I last saw her rode up her thighs as she got her balance, and I got a good eyeful of a silky smooth, toned thigh and half of a beautifully rounded butt cheek. I quickly averted my eyes as the panel slid open, and grabbed her hand as we hit the stairs.

  “Can you do the stairs?” I asked her.

  “Yes.” She yanked her hand away from mine and I sighed as I gave up the fight to get there in a timely manner. I followed behind her and we got down to the rendezvous point after everyone else.

  “More than twenty seconds behind the rest of us,” Sandor grunted, giving me a look.

  Elen started to cough again, waving me off when I tried to ask if she was okay.

  “The two of you are last every single time,” Joe said quietly. “In a true emergency, this could mean life or death.”

  I didn’t say anything, merely watching Elen cough. I was pissed, but this didn’t seem like the right time to throw her under the bus.

  Sandor was mad too, and he turned to his sister. “Listen, I get that you’re not a hundred percent yet, but this isn’t optional, El. Lives are at stake.”

  “And if it was a real emergency, I’d kick ass and take names. But it’s not and I’m sorry my lungs aren’t healing according to the drill schedule.”

  “I’m telling you now, next time he has permission to manhandle you in whatever way is necessary to get to the rendezvous point in the allotted time. That’s all there is to it.”

  “I don’t see Casey or Lennox here,” Elen shot back, scowling.

  “Casey is entertaining Her Royal Highness, Queen Celine, and Lennox is on duty guarding both of them. It’s not like they’re in bed scrolling Facebook.”

  “Okay, are we done?” Elen was her usual pissy self.

  “We’re not done. We’re going to do it again, and again, until you get here in the right time frame.”

  “Sandor.” She glared at her older brother.

  “Elen.” He glared right back.

  “Come on, guys.” Daniil cut between them. “Not tonight, okay? She’s coughing badly and I think she needs to be in bed.”

  “Tough.” Sandor wasn’t backing down, and I suspected this was going to get worse before it got better.

  “Run it again. Everyone back to your rooms. I’ll send out the alert text when I’m ready. And I can promise you it won’t be for at least thirty minutes.”

  “You’re a dick,” Elen hissed. “And I’m not doing it. You want to report me to Erik? Fine. Go right ahead. Shall I head up to his quarters now and beat you to the punch?”

  I had no idea why she was pushing back this hard. This was over-the-top, even for her, and it confused me. I wasn’t involved, though, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Take her back to her room and keep her there until I call for the drill.” Sandor motioned me away.

  Something else had to be going on. I gave him a look, but he gave me a slight shake of his head so, once again, I kept my mouth shut.

  “Come on,” I said to her. “Let’s just go back to your room and get you some hot tea. That’ll help with—”

  “I don’t need your fucking help!” She turned and practically ran up the stairs, disappearing around the corner.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demanded of Sandor. “You know it’s going to go badly.”

  “Because I have to know you can control her. She’s stubborn, but right now, you have to be able to get her to safety no matter how grumpy she is or how much she resists. It’s not fun for you, I get it, but you’re my friend and someone I trust to protect her should we get attacked again. So even though it’s hard for you, because you’re a gentleman and she’s a woman, I need you to put her protests, her illness, everything else, out of your mind and treat every drill like it’s the real deal.”

  “No problem for me, but I’m not taking the lady’s wrath in the aftermath—that’s going to be all you.”

  Sandor nodded. “That’s fair. The drill will be in fifteen minutes, so head on up. I need an actual real-time number for you and Elen, because she puts up a fight every single time so I have no data.”

  “Got it.” I jogged up the stairs and made my way back to Elen’s room more slowly. This wasn’t going to go well, so I put everything else out of my mind. Her bitchiness, her long legs and bright blue eyes, the way she fucking hated my guts. Yeah, I was going to need combat pay after this was over.

  I hesitated at her door, taking a deep breath. It wasn’t fear or even that I worried about hurting her. I just didn’t get it and I wasn’t the type of man who thrived on conflict or being mistreated. Women like her, with attitudes and a constant need to rage at everyone, well, that wasn’t for me. No matter how smart, sexy and interesting she was. The woman underneath was well-hidden, and I didn’t know much about her. At this point, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to do my fucking job and maybe have a day off once in a while. Getting laid would be nice, but I’d be okay without that too, as long as I didn’t have to deal with Princess Cranky-Pants all the time.

  I didn’t knock since she knew I was coming, but when I walked inside, she wasn’t there.

  “Sonofabitch,” I cursed out loud as I did a perfunctory check of the bathroom, balcony and walk-in closet, since she could be in any of those. She wasn’t, of course, and I’d known she wouldn’t be, but now I was pissed and racing against the clock. She’d done this on purpose, of that I was sure, and I didn’t know if I wanted to quit my job or throw her over my shoulder and spank her ass.

  Shaking my head, I ran back out into the hallway. Daniil and Sandor both lived in this wing of the palace, but she wouldn’t be in either of their rooms. I got out my phone and sent a group text to her, Sandor and Daniil.

  XANDER: Where the hell are you, Elen? I’m not playing games.

  If she was playing a game, now her brothers knew, and Sandor
wouldn’t like it at all. I almost felt bad throwing her under the bus like this, but she did it to me regularly and she was making me look bad professionally. It was time to turn the tables.

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t find her anywhere, and when my phone buzzed, I stared at the message with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

  SANDOR: Abort. She tricked all of us—she’s up with Erik and his guests. I can’t make a scene here. We’ll deal with this tomorrow. Get some rest.

  I wanted to respond but figured, as usual, I might as well not. I didn’t know what was going on with Princess Moody Blue, and tonight I didn’t give a shit.

  8

  Elen

  The beach in Tahiti was fantastic. I’d spent time here while I’d been in exile, and it had been one of my favorite places. The people were kind and didn’t know anything about Princess Elen, so I could just be another expat living her life. My old boss had given me a huge hug, and his wife, who was also my former landlady, had said she’d have my old room ready for me by afternoon, leaving me on a lounge chair by the beach, soaking up some sun and relaxed for the first time in months.

  I felt bad about how much of a bitch I’d been lately, but I was fighting myriad emotions and something inside of me had just snapped. I’d changed clothes the other night and gone up to see King Alistair, say hello and play the part of politician. A conversation with Queen Celine had revealed they were leaving for Tahiti the following day, and I’d finagled a ride. Since I wasn’t doing anything wrong and merely told them I was recovering from pneumonia and needed a vacation, they’d kept my confidence. The thing is, it was all true and I just wanted a little time to myself. I hadn’t had to tell anybody because they would know where I was. After the attempted kidnapping of Luke last December, we’d all agreed to have tracking chips inserted just under the skin. They were something new that the CIA was trying as an experiment because the technology hadn’t been perfected yet due to issues with battery life. They’d offered it to us because of Erik’s ties to them, and so far they were working. Mine was on my wrist and I didn’t even think about it anymore. All I was thinking about was relaxing, and after a very long twenty-four hours of travel, I was finally in my happy place.

  I had half a dozen texts from Erik, my brothers, Casey, and Lennox, but I didn’t have anything to say right now. I’d been behaving badly and it occurred to me I might be having some kind of breakdown, but I didn’t know why or how to make it better, so I didn’t respond. My gut told me Sandor would send someone after me, or maybe he would come himself, but until then, I wanted sunshine and the ocean and maybe mindless sex with someone. I’d had lovers over the years, but relationships had been close to impossible, and more than anything else, I was lonely. Having my family back was nice, but it didn’t solve anything. My job at Parliament had been exciting at first, until reality had shown me that not even a princess could make progress in such a male-dominated world.

  “Ellie, you want to come now?” My landlady, Samaria, cocked her head as she watched me.

  “Can I just lie here a little longer?” I asked her with a smile. “If Fetu could bring my suitcases, I’ll unpack later.”

  “Okay.” She watched me as I coughed, and shook her head. “You need doctor. You want I call someone?”

  “I had pneumonia,” I told her. “I’m better. It’s just the cough that’s lingered. I’m okay. Really.”

  “You don’t lie to Samaria.” She wagged a finger at me. “If I catch you sick, I’ll give you spanking!”

  I laughed as she walked away muttering. She had six kids of her own, between the ages of two and fifteen, and lorded over them with a firm, if loving, hand. I loved living in her little guest house, just a few blocks from the beach. It was small but private, with everything I needed, which wasn’t much here in this small resort town. I had money, of course, and I took care of Samaria and Fetu, but I didn’t need anything other than food and basic toiletries. My hair was usually up in a clip, I lived in bathing suits, shorts and T-shirts, and I had internet access on my phone so I could keep up with civilization. Beyond that, I wanted to be left alone.

  I slept for fourteen hours that night, until my eyes opened to bright sunlight and two huge dark ones staring down at me with concern.

  “Why you sleeping?” Samaria demanded, hands on her ample hips. “I was scared you dead!”

  I blinked and frowned. “I told you—I’ve been recuperating from pneumonia. I need to rest.”

  “You want doctor?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No, I want to pee. Would you go away?”

  I loved Samaria and she knew it, so she blew me a kiss as she ambled out. “You go to beach?”

  “Yes, in a little while.”

  “You want American coffee or espresso or something else?”

  “American coffee, please. With cream.”

  “Cream is extra.”

  “Put it on my bill.”

  It was a joke between us, and I chuckled as I brushed my teeth. She would offer me something, I would accept it with conditions, and she would inevitably tell me that it would cost extra. I’d tell her to put it on my imaginary bill and it would add up over the course of time. She knew there was money coming from me. I’d given her thousands before I left last time, more than enough to keep her family fed and clothed for a couple of years, and she’d probably been pissed about it, but that was okay; she still loved me and I loved her. She and her husband were Samoan. Fetu ran the bar at the beach resort where I’d bartended because the pay was good. With six kids, they struggled, but they’d been good to me, even before I’d told them who I really was. So I spoiled them whenever I could and she took on the loose role of mother, even though she wasn’t much older than I was.

  I put on a bathing suit and shorts, threw sunscreen and my e-reader in a bag, and padded over to the house. Samaria was cleaning up the kitchen. The oldest kids were at school, while little Elena—named after me even though I was simply Elen—sat on the floor banging on pots and pans. I leaned down and scooped up the toddler, kissing the side of her face even as she squirmed to get away from me. I was her godmother since she’d been a newborn when I’d left here last time. I always sent packages for the kids, though, for birthdays and the holidays, so even Elena knew me and heard about Auntie Elen all the time.

  “What you want? Eggs?” Samaria had a gruff exterior, but she was really a sweetheart on the inside.

  “Whatever’s easy for you. I’m not that hungry.”

  Samaria turned, narrowing her eyes. “You skinny like a toothpick. You got AIDS or something?”

  I sputtered out a laugh. Samaria had zero filter, one of many things I loved about her, but sometimes the things she said were over-the-top. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. Just being sick and all the stress back home. I’m fine. I promise. Two eggs over easy and toast. Okay?”

  She grunted but obligingly grabbed a few eggs and threw a loaf of bread at me. “You cut. Toast in oven.”

  I did my share of the work absently, my mind far away even though I had nothing to think about. Well, I did, like the new school in Limaj, the fact that I’d run away like a hormonal teenager, and my growing dissatisfaction with my life.

  Samaria put a plate and a mug of coffee in front of me, dropped a saucer of cream on the table and stuffed a piece of fruit into Elena’s mouth. “You talk to me, Elen. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, picking at my eggs.

  “You have broken heart?”

  I snorted. “Hardly. You have to have a date to get your heart broken.”

  “You mad at your brothers?”

  “It’s nothing black-and-white like that,” I told her. “I don’t know what it is. But I’m mad about everything. All the time.”

  “You wasn’t mad when you lived here. Now you got your family back—why you mad?”

  “I don’t know.” I rested my chin on my fists, elbows on the table, and closed my eyes. “I wish someone could tell me.”
Tears filled my eyes and a year’s worth of frustration seeped out.

  Samaria didn’t say or do anything, but Elena seemed to notice and climbed into my lap. She rested her little head against my chest and started patting my arm, the way her mother did to her when she was unhappy.

  “Okay, Auntie? Don’t cry.”

  I had to smile, even though I was miserable. Elena was the sweetest baby ever. “I’m okay, kiddo. Just having a bad morning.”

  “You want my pineapple?” She held out a half-eaten circle and I laughed.

  “No, thank you. You eat it.”

  “Okay.” She got off my lap and went back to what she was doing.

  “You have the best family,” I whispered to Samaria.

  “You want babies,” she said firmly. “This is your problem.”

  “I need a good man first. I don’t want babies with some random jackass.”

  “You rich. You don’t need a man to raise babies, just to make them. In your world, you can buy the sperm, yes?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “At a sperm bank, yes, but ew. That sounds horrible. I don’t want a baby with no father.”

  “So it’s family you want.”

  “As a young woman, I thought so. It was my dream to meet a wonderful man who would love me and whisk me away…and then my life went to hell and I gave up on that. I don’t know what I want anymore, but I’ll be thirty-four this year and it feels like my time is running out.”

  “Never too late.” Samaria began kneading bread dough. “But not with your attitude. You mean.”

  I laughed. “Not to you.”

  “No, but I hear it in your voice, feel it in your letters… Who you mad at? Yourself? Your parents for dying? Who?”

  “Everyone.”

  “Bad juju.” She shook her head. “You catch more flies with honey.”

  “But I don’t want to catch flies. I want rose petals and dragonflies.”

  She arched her brows. “This a rich people fantasy? I want man who loves me, takes care of me. Loves his babies. Loves the bedroom.” She grinned at me, which was a rare sight for her.