Royal Protocol

by Dana Marton

  Nobody knew where they were.

  Nobody could help them.

  She’d heard of the catacombs of Rome when she’d sung there ages ago. She’d declined the tour that had been offered. “What is this place exactly?” she asked Benedek, who was walking in front of her. Two royal guards went before him, two walked behind her, the director of opera security bringing up the rear.

  “Palace Hill is riddled with catacombs. Some of them have been mapped, others haven’t. This is a new section nobody knew about before.”

  He sounded suspiciously like maybe he was enjoying this just a little. Couldn’t be. Every nerve ending she had was on edge. They’d practically been buried alive. Nobody could be excited about that.

  “It’s a brand-new discovery,” he said.

  And she definitely caught a note of excitement in his voice this time. She bit back a groan. He probably fancied himself some great underground explorer now. All she wanted was to get out of here.

  His eyes danced as he looked back at her.

  She caught herself before she shook her head. He was a boy at heart still. A young prince at thirty two.

  Then his gaze changed, wrapped her up somehow, and made her think they were the only two people within miles, drew her in. Awareness was a like a caress on her bare skin. A man, she corrected. Whatever boyish pleasures he took in discovering these tunnels, Prince Benedek was all man, head-to-toe.

  If only she were ten years younger…

  She gave herself a mental shake. She also broke the eye contact between them, studiously examining the rough ground they trod. Within a few feet, they came to a Y in the tunnel.

  “Which way?” one of the men asked.

  “We could split up,” Vilmos suggested. “Better chance of finding a way out that way.” He still sounded anxious.

  Rayne avoided his gaze, and he avoided hers. She tried not to be mad at him for leaving Craig all alone, but failed, even knowing she wasn’t being completely reasonable.

  Her eyes burned every time she thought of her agent. She blinked back the tears. She didn’t cry. She wasn’t the crying type. What was wrong with her?

  “Except that we would have no way to keep in touch with each other.” Benedek thought for a minute. “We’ll stay together.” He walked a short distance into each tunnel, came back.

  “What are you doing?” Rayne asked.

  “The left is sloping down, the right is sloping up. We’ll take the right branch. It’s more likely that it’ll take us to the surface.”

  They moved ahead as fast as they could, watching where they stepped, the men grim and quiet. The tunnel soon narrowed and began to take turn after turn. At times, she had a feeling they were going in circles.

  She wondered what the rebels must think now that they couldn’t reach them on the phone. “How far are we from the opera house?”

  “We walked at least two kilometers, but we could be right under it somewhere if the tunnel looped back around,” Benedek told her. “Do you need to rest?”

  “No.”

  He watched her for a second. “We’ll rest,” he called out to the men and stopped.

  Men listened so well, she thought, and flashed him a forced smile.

  “Let me see your hand.” He was reaching for it before she could protest, turning her hand over in his larger palm and untying the scarf, examining the cuts. “It’ll be fine.”

  She could have told him that. She could barely feel her injuries anymore. Under the circumstances, they were the least of her problems.

  The two guards in the front walked back to them, then the ones in the back started catching up. Dezso first, then Vilmos. They waited in vain for the director.

  “I’ll go and see what’s holding him up,” Vilmos offered.

  “No,” Benedek said immediately, his shoulders stiffening. “We can’t afford to lose another.”

  Did they lose the director?

  The somber look on Benedek’s face confirmed that he was thinking the same thing—the killer had followed them into the catacombs.

  For once, she didn’t mind Benedek’s nearness. She stayed where she was, reluctant to step away from him. The light dimmed. She glanced around. Dezso’s flashlight was out. The batteries in the others wouldn’t last forever either.

  “We’ll be fine.” Benedek looked right at her as he said that. “This tunnel has to end somewhere.”

  She prayed it wasn’t a dead end.

  With a killer at their back.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she offered.

  Benedek glanced at his watch. “Five minutes. Sit.”

  The men obeyed him without hesitation. After a moment, she did, too. He was right, they needed to catch their breath. Who knew how long they would have to wander around underground before finding a way out? And if they stayed put for a little while, maybe the director would catch up with them.

  He didn’t.

  And soon it was time to go.

  Two security guards in front of her and the prince, two in the back.

  “Wait. The enemy is behind us. All security should be in the back,” Dezso recommended.

  For a moment, Benedek looked like he might protest. With each man that’d gone missing or was found dead, his expression became darker and darker. Even his pleasure over the secret tunnel discovery wore off within minutes. He looked ten years older now than when he’d first walked into her dressing room. But he still stood strong, decisive and ready to face whatever crossed their path.

  In the end, he didn’t argue with Dezso. All he said was, “Stay close together, don’t leave anyone behind.” Then he led his dwindling team forward into the unknown.

  When they came into a narrower section with plenty of blind turns that would only allow one person at a time to pass, he took her hand. She didn’t resist, although she couldn’t remember the last time she had trusted herself to a man. Maybe never. The sensation now was not comfortable.

  “You think the walls look good, Your Highness?” one of the men asked from behind. He had the oddest name that she couldn’t, for the life of her, recall.

  Benedek had been panning his flashlight along the walls and ceiling more than on the ground since they’d entered the tunnels. “These walls have been standing for three hundred years. It’s statistically unlikely that they would collapse just at this very moment.” He thought for a second. “Then again, we’ve had two explosions so far today that shook the ground around the opera. Still, I think we’re far enough now.”

  So did she. While the tunnel took wild turns, they had been heading in one general direction for a while now.

  “It wouldn’t hurt to step carefully anyway,” Benedek added.

  The man asked something about the catacombs under the palace. They were talking mostly to keep in touch, to make sure that no one else from the end of the line disappeared. The prince had an easy rapport with the men. She hadn’t pictured him being like that. She’d had royalty attend her performances before, had even been introduced to the Queen of Denmark. But she’d never spent this much time with anyone royal. He wasn’t aloof or demanding. He was just like any other man.

  Well, maybe not. He wasn’t quite like any other man she had known. She had to admit, he was shattering her misconceptions about him one after the other. He did what he had to. He wasn’t spoiled. He cared about his men.

  “There’s something up ahead.” He slowed.

  Her heart picked up speed.

  But all he was referring to was an enlarged area they were approaching, a room their narrow tunnel came to before it continued on the other side. There were large, square holes carved in the walls all the way from the floor to the ceiling, with stone boxes in them.

  The place gave her chills so she made a joke. “Hidden treasure?”

  The men caught up with them. All four were still there.

  “An underground cemetery,” Benedek said, not without a twinge of excitement in his voice.

  Goose bumps covered her skin. She
really hoped he was joking. “But these are not large enough to be coffins.” The stone boxes were no bigger than one foot by two feet, tops. Children’s coffins? The thought shook her.

  “In the Middle Ages, there was a secret sect that used part of the catacombs. When a member died, they were buried in a regular cemetery to preserve their secret. In a year’s time, the members of the sect would retrieve the bones in the middle of the night and would bring them to their underground burial places where they laid them to rest again with their own rituals,” he explained, the coffins the focus of his attention.

  She stepped away from the wall. “Okay, I’m officially creeped out. The spook factor has just tripled. Anyone else feeling that?”

  The guards didn’t look affected either way.

  Benedek didn’t seem bothered either. He looked like he was counting the coffins. “Only two of these have ever been found and both have been looted.” Excitement was evident in his voice. He stepped up to one crevice and ran a finger down the stone.

  As he adjusted his flashlight, she could make out some carvings before he moved the light again. Looked like an odd sort of writing she’d never seen before. “Secret Medieval messages?”

  He glanced to the royal guard and hesitated before he said, “Newer than that. Written about two hundred years ago.” He wouldn’t elaborate further. Instead, he traced the carvings with his finger again.

  “You’re not going to open one of those right now, are you?” She was ready to move on. The sooner, the better.

  He stepped away and turned to flash her a smile. “As you wish.” He wiped his hand on his pants. His dashing tuxedo was pretty much ruined already.

  They left the underground burial site and moved forward in the tunnel, which came to a Y again. And again, they went right. This had been their method since the beginning. If there was a choice, take the path that led up. If they were even, take the one on the right. Benedek figured the palace was that direction, and their hope was that these tunnels somehow connected to the vast catacomb system under the palace.

  Having a method also meant that they could turn around if they hit a dead end and always know which way to go back.

  She trudged forward behind Benedek. She didn’t have her watch on, had no idea how long they’d been down here, but estimated a couple of hours. They had walked miles and miles, but due to the winding nature of the tunnels, it was possible that they were nowhere in the vicinity of the palace yet.

  She was about to ask Benedek if he had a reasonable guess about how far they might be, when something caught her attention up ahead. “Stop.”

  Benedek halted immediately. The rest of the men did the same behind them.

  She listened.

  The men waited.

  “I think I hear water,” she said at last.

  They started up again, and after a hundred feet or so, they reached a section where the tunnel wall had been cracked. A small stream flowed from a gap above, forming a pool in their path. The floor probably had another hole where the water drained even lower down. At one point, there must have been more water, because the hole in the ceiling was sizable.

  “You think it might lead to the surface, Your Highness?” Dezso eyed the crack.

  “Could be water from Liberty Creek,” Vilmos observed.

  “Which would mean that we’re somewhere near Liberty Park, heading away from the palace.” Benedek shone the light above him.

  “I could go up and look,” Dezso offered. “We could be ten or twenty meters under the surface or closer.”

  The other guards immediately stood together and held out their hands for Dezso to step into. He went up, standing on their shoulders next.

  “Step back.” Benedek pulled her away. “Try not to touch anything. We don’t need a collapse.”

  She watched, holding her breath as the man extended the flashlight into the crack, then stuck his head in. If only it could be that easy. If they could all climb up there and reach the surface.

  “Anything?” Vilmos asked.

  “The path the water follows isn’t straight. I can only see two feet ahead. Not enough room to squeeze up there either.” Dezso pulled back and thumped to the ground next to the other men, his uniform coat wet.

  “We’ll drink, then move on,” Benedek said.

  The fresh, cold water tasted like heaven. She even washed her face free of the full opera makeup. Benedek was right behind her when she stood up, closer than she’d thought. She stepped back too quickly, nearly losing her balance.

  He caught her. “You missed a spot.” He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, beneath her right eye.

  Heat immediately bloomed between them.

  He wouldn’t kiss her in front of his men, would he? He sure looked like he might.

  Heaven help her.

  His thumb moved down toward her mouth.

  Her skin tingled in its wake.

  She immediately felt aroused every time they touched. She wasn’t like this, normally, with other men. She didn’t want to be like this with him.

  “Thanks.” She swallowed and put a more comfortable distance between them.

  The guards had already waded through the pool, which was about ten feet wide and hit them midcalf. But before she had a chance to step into it, Benedek was there, sweeping her up into his arms.

  “Hang on.”

  So much for keeping her distance. She had no choice but to put her arms around his neck. “Really, it’s not necessary.” Not smart. Not safe, probably, not when her body heated everywhere they touched. She so did not need to spend time in the prince’s arms.

  He flashed her a roguish grin. “Don’t let it be said that in Valtria chivalry is dead.”

  He carried her through the puddle and a few feet beyond before he set her on her feet. For reasons unknown to her, she didn’t immediately step away.

  The four guards had walked ahead to investigate and were blocked by the next turn in the tunnel.

  Benedek turned so he’d be facing the section of the tunnel they’d just left. Probably to keep an eye out for anyone who might be sneaking up behind them.

  She found it impossible to relax. The heat and awareness had not diminished in the slightest between them. Just the opposite, in fact.

  Especially when he gently pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m afraid your very impressive hairdo is unraveling, Madam.” His teasing smile would have made a lesser woman swoon—a woman who didn’t have Rayne’s history with men.

  As it was, she could barely look away from those dark eyes of his. And when she did manage, finally, her gaze immediately slid to his masculine mouth. The mouth that had tested hers before, if only to distract her when he’d pulled the shard from her palm. It had lasted no more than two seconds. Two seconds that wouldn’t soon be forgotten. She would have thought she was too smart to be this thoroughly affected by something so inconsequential. But as she remembered the brief kiss, the temperature in the tunnel rose ten degrees.

  His fingers lingered on her hair, his knuckles brushing her neck.

  Unapologetic desire filled his eyes.

  Falling into that would have been so easy. His open need for her was seductive in a way that puzzled her. Normally, she couldn’t wait to get away from men who tried to possess her. Benedek was different. A connection existed between them that she couldn’t fathom, and couldn’t deny either.

  It didn’t matter. They weren’t going down that road. She had to step away and turn before she did something stupid like sway toward him. “No,” she said out loud to make sure they were on the same page.

  “Soon,” he promised.

  And the tone in which that single word had been spoken sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She thoroughly resented that.

  Definitely time to put some distance between them.

  But before she could move, they were interrupted by the returning men.

  Vilmos cleared his throat. “No more water, no way out as far as we can tell. Should we con
sider turning back, Your Highness? You might be safer at the opera. That’s where the rescue efforts will be mounted. There you might even be able to negotiate with the rebels.”

  Benedek moved to the front of their small group once again, taking her hand and drawing her behind him. “Not yet,” he told his men.

  After a hundred yards or so, they came to a three-way junction. If they hadn’t stopped to consider which branch to take, she might not have heard the muffled voices ahead.

  Chapter Five

  She had excellent hearing, and Benedek was grateful for that. Without her, they might have gone the wrong way, completely missing the men up ahead and the exit. If that was what they’d found at last.

  Instinct bade him to proceed carefully.

  “Which way do you think they are?” he whispered his question.

  Rayne took a few steps in each direction, listened, shook her head. “It’s almost as if the voices are coming from behind the stone.” She pointed at the flat wall in front of her.

  Maybe one of the branches looped back that way. The only way to find which one was to try all three of them and fast before whoever was there moved on and they lost this chance.

  “Whoever it is, approach carefully. Whether we find anything or not, we’ll meet back here in half an hour.” He pointed at Vilmos and Dezso and sent them into the left tunnel, then sent the other two guys to the right. He and Rayne took the middle.

  “Who do you think they are?” she whispered.

  “Maybe we are nearing a section of the catacombs that are open to the public. Could be tourists.” But he couldn’t put the rebels out of his mind either, or the killer who was down in the tunnels with them, although he couldn’t see how the guy could have possibly gotten in front of them.

  He glanced back. Nothing behind them but darkness.

  “Stay silent until we have ID.” He could hear the voices a little more distinctly now as they kept moving forward, although he could still make out only a word here and there.

  “If it’s some macabre burial rite that involves dug-up bones, I’m going to run screaming into the darkness.” Rayne stuck close to him.