Dark Warrior Untamed

by Alexis Morgan

  “About time you let me in, daughter.”

  She sighed heavily. Her father—the absolute last person she needed butting into her business right now.

  “Come in,” she said reluctantly.

  At least Wes had the good sense to keep his gun aimed right at dear old Dad’s head. She stood by her lover, making sure not to get between Wes and his target.

  Harcourt bristled at her unspoken declaration of loyalty. Bloody prig that he was, Harcourt’s lip actually curled in disdain as he studied the two of them.

  “I did not raise you to be a fool or a tramp, Adele.”

  “No, you raised me to be Dame. Seems you failed all around.”

  She wrapped her arm around Wes’s waist and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, knowing how much her father hated PDA. Wes responded by squeezing her ass with his free hand as he grinned at her father.

  “Do you want to hear what this wanker has to say, luv? If not, let’s kick his arse back out the door and pick up where we left off.”

  She laughed at the outraged expression on her father’s face. “You did show up at a particularly inopportune moment. Another few seconds, and we probably wouldn’t have answered the door at all.”

  Harcourt stamped his foot. “This is not the time, Adele. You have no idea the hell your actions has unleashed on all of us.”

  “You mean other than sending the usurper diving for cover and blowing up the Viking’s beloved car?” She frowned. “I think that about covers it. Did I leave out anything, Wes?”

  His eyes had that lovely crazed look they always got when he thought about making things go boom. “There was the bomb we shipped to the Dame’s house, but that was more of a preview than an actual event.”

  By now, Harcourt was shaking with fury. “You idiots! Don’t you get it? You’ve signed your own death warrants and maybe mine, too. Even if Dame Kerry and Ranulf could forgive the loss of the car, do you actually think Grey Danby will ever quit hunting for us?”

  “I’m not worried about him. He’s little better than a street thug, after all.”

  Her father looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Grey Danby has fought his way up from those streets, Adele. Nothing and no one ever stopped him from getting what he wanted. You might have a better pedigree, but you’ve always had everything handed to you.”

  He pointed toward the window. “Out there the strongest Talion since Ranulf himself is on the hunt for you. And once Grey Danby gets us in his sights, your boy toy there will die begging for mercy, and the two of us will follow. All because you two are greedy and stupid.

  “You’ve never seen a Talion execution, but I have.” He shuddered in revulsion. “The renegade deserved to die, but don’t think for a minute that it was anything as merciful as a hanging or the electric chair. He died screaming as blue flames burned through his skin while Danby squeezed every drop life energy out of the poor bastard. When it was over, there was nothing left but a pile of ashes to be swept up.”

  He gave her one more hard look. “That’s the future you’ve chosen for yourself, my dear. Well, you’re welcome to it. For myself, I’m choosing to go home on the next flight and pray that Grey never connects your actions to me.”

  Okay, he’d succeeded in scaring her. Time to share the joy. “Too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Grey already knows you’re in town.”

  Her father paled. “How?”

  She marched over and got in his face. “I told the usurper, and then hinted that Grey was on your personal payroll. The payments into his accounts can be traced right back to yours. If Grey’s as good as you say he is, I’d guess you have only hours before he tracks you down.”

  The crack of flesh against flesh rang out as her father slapped her across the face. The shock of being smacked for the first time in her life left Adele standing within striking with tears streaming down her face. When her father raised his hand for a repeat performance, Wes stepped forward.

  “That’s enough.”

  Wes pulled Adele behind him. “Touch her again and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  Her father focused on the barrel of Wes’s gun, aimed squarely at his face. Realizing it was more than an idle threat, he backed toward the door.

  “You want her? Well, congratulations, kid. She’s all yours.”

  Then he looked past Wes to her. “As of this minute, I have no daughter. You are no longer mine. And as soon as I can reach my solicitor, you will no longer be my heir.”

  “Fine. You were never much of a father anyway.” She pushed the bitter words out through her swollen lips. “Start running, coward. Grey’s coming for you first.”

  Her father had gone but two steps toward the door when Wes cocked the hammer on his gun, freezing Harcourt in his steps. “Do you want him dead, darling girl?”

  It was tempting. So very tempting, but no. She had bigger plans still in play.

  “Let him go.” She made sure her father was listening when she added, “For now. As long as Grey is hunting him, he won’t be looking for us.”

  When the door was firmly locked between them and the world outside, Adele considered her options. For the moment, there was nothing to be done except play the cards they’d been dealt. That her father would abandon her wasn’t much of a shock. She’d always known he was a coward.

  Wes, on the other hand, was turning out to be quite a surprise. She definitely owed him for standing beside her against all comers. Time to show him a little appreciation. She stepped in front of him and ran a finger down the barrel of his gun before dropping to her knees.

  Ignoring the pain that lingered on her face, she smiled up at him. “Now, where were we?”

  Chapter 16

  Piper licked her lips and tasted blood, which added to the acid burn in the back of her throat. What a fool she was! She’d been so worried about Grey’s headlong rush into Kerry’s house that she’d forgotten to worry about herself.

  By the time she’d looked up to see the gun pointed at her head, it was too late to do anything but follow orders. All things considered, she didn’t regret not screaming for help. That would’ve only brought Grey charging to her rescue at the exact moment her captors had detonated the bomb. She hated knowing that Grey thought she was dead, but better that than him dying for real.

  She listened carefully, trying to make sure she was still alone in the room. The only voices she could hear were some distance away in the next room. By the sound of it, things were heating out up there.

  She flexed her wrists and ankles, testing the strength of the rope that bound them. It was hard not to cry remembering the crazed look in that man’s eyes right before he’d stuck a needle in her arm. She’d almost been grateful for the darkness that washed over her, temporarily delivering her from this nightmare.

  The drug had been working its way out of her system for some time, but she’d instinctively hidden that from her captors. Her blood had run cold as they’d discussed her death. Adele and Wes were scarily pragmatic, more worried about the effect bloodstains would have on his damage deposit than the thought of killing another human being.

  Score! The rope knotted around her wrists had a little bit of give to it. She closed her eyes to concentrate better. From there, her plan for escape was pretty nebulous, but she’d take it one step at a time. Only she could save herself; everyone else thought she was already dead.

  God, it had been agonizing to hear Grey’s screams as he stared helplessly at the inferno that engulfed the Packard. If she’d had any doubts about the depth of his feelings for her, they’d died in that blast. And, coward that she was, it had taken a disaster to make her face up to her own love for him.

  Please, God, let me live long enough to tell him.

  The push and pull against her bindings left her skin raw and bloody. Fine. The blood would only serve to make the ropes more slippery if she could loosen them enough to pull a hand free.

  It was time to fig
ure out what was going on with her captors. Earlier, she’d been stunned—and grossed out—by the realization that they were going to have sex right in front of her. Even the nearly silent slide of the guy’s zipper had made her want to puke.

  A door in another room opened and then slammed closed. It was to much to hope that they had suddenly decided to make a quick trip for lattes.

  A low moan dispelled any chance of that. They were at it again. Hoping the guy had enough staying power to let her break free, Piper hurried her efforts to work the rope. Of course, if she succeeded, how was she going to get past them?

  Maybe her room was on the first floor. Or perhaps there was a phone handy, so she could call Grey. Then he and the cavalry could come riding to her rescue. That is, if she could figure out where she was. She knew only one thing for certain: Grey was resourceful. Given even a vague hint about her whereabouts, he’d find her. She loved that about him. She loved everything about him.

  With that comforting thought, she gave her right hand another hard yank.

  Grey stared at the computer and ignored everyone else in the hotel room. Harcourt hadn’t changed his airline reservation, which meant he was still in Seattle. Eventually, he’d light somewhere long enough for Grey and his men to scoop him up.

  “I’ve almost got you, you bastard!”

  For the first time in hours, Grey felt something other than cold rage and grief—anticipation. Once he’d gotten Sean safely away from the Dame’s house and rounded up the troops, he’d done his damnedest to crack down on every thought or feeling that interfered with his concentration on the hunt. He was slowly making progress.

  He’d managed to report in to the Dame with cold dispassion. The call to Sandor had been just as succinct. The hardest part was ignoring the backwash of grief when they learned that Piper had been the first casualty in this war.

  He keyed in another search, well aware that someone was about to make an attempt to distract him. So far, Grey had successfully deflected all offers of food, rest, or any kind of comfort, all the things he didn’t deserve. Not yet. Not until the enemy was found and engaged.

  He’d sorely underestimated their foes. They all had, but it wouldn’t happen again. Not on his watch. He did his best to ignore Sean, who hovered a few feet away. The kid was nothing if not stubborn. Maybe that’s why he reminded Grey of himself so much.

  “Not now, Sean.”

  The newest Talion obviously wasn’t lacking courage. So far, he’d been the only one who’d actually defied Grey’s orders to leave him the hell alone.

  “Sorry, boss, but your phone is ringing again. It’s that detective calling. He’s taken to dialing your number every five minutes.”

  “So?”

  “It’s driving the rest of us crazy, and I need to know what to do about it. Do you want me to answer it?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, so then can we shut the fucking thing off ?”

  Okay, so the kid had Grey’s temper as well. “Not until everyone has been notified of my new number.”

  “When will that be?”

  Grey’s hands itched to lash out, to rip into the kid, but Sean’s only crime was being there, alive and breathing when Piper wasn’t. Grey forced himself to back away from his rage. He rubbed his temples, trying to ease the pain long enough to be civil.

  “We’ve all switched to throwaway phones to keep the authorities—and our enemies—from tracing us easily. I disabled the GPS in my phone, but not everyone has the new number yet.”

  He held out his hand. “Besides, sooner or later, whoever detonated that blast will call to gloat. There’s no way I want to miss a chance to track that bastard down.”

  Sean stepped closer. “Okay, I get it. Here.”

  But instead of dropping the cell into Grey’s outstretched palm, Sean handed him a plate piled high with food. “I’ll watch the phone while you eat that. By the time you’re finished, Sandor will be here and can take over. We all think you should get some sleep, too.”

  Sean walked away without giving Grey a chance to react, or to ask why Sandor hadn’t stayed with Lena and the other two young Kyth. Grey felt an odd sensation and the realized he’d actually smiled. He had to hand it to the kid; it had been a gutsy move. Sean was going to make one helluva Talion warrior. He was sneaky and had the right bad attitude.

  He studied the plate. He hadn’t been hungry in all the hours since the explosion. The truth was, he hadn’t felt much of anything except for chilling pain. For a few seconds, he held the plate over the trash can, but tossing it wouldn’t accomplish anything. Even he had to admit that he should keep up his strength. Besides, he had the suspicion that Sean already had a second plate ready just in case. That’s what Grey would have done if the situation were reversed.

  Conceding the point, Grey picked up half of a sandwich and took a bite. It tasted like dust dry dirt, but he choked it down anyway. When he had trouble swallowing, a bottle of water magically appeared on his desk.

  “You’re welcome,” Sean muttered and walked away, leaving Grey no chance to say thanks.

  Yeah, he really liked that kid.

  A few minutes later, he finished the sandwich and the water. Time to get back to work. But before he could start another search, a knock at the door cut through the air like a knife.

  “Do you want me to open it?”

  Grey rose to his feet as he drew his gun, aware of half a dozen others being readied at the same instant. Chances were that it was someone on their side, but he wouldn’t risk another mistake.

  He crossed the room and pressed his palm to the door, concentrating all of his senses on the person standing on the other side. He recognized Sandor’s energy pattern immediately, but there was someone else standing too far back for Grey to get a reading.

  “It’s Sandor, but he’s not alone. Open the door slowly and stay the hell out of my line of fire.”

  Sean nodded and did as instructed. Sandor held up his hands to show he was no threat. When Lena moved into sight, Grey immediately lowered his weapon and motioned for the two of them to come in. Tara and Kenny filed in right behind them.

  Sandor took a quick look around Grey’s makeshift headquarters before speaking again. “How badly was the house damaged?”

  Grey shrugged. “The front took the biggest hit, mostly broken glass and the like. But we’re also dodging Detective Byrne and company.”

  “Good thinking.” Sandor shot his companions a disgusted look. “Sorry to take so long getting here.”

  Lena punched him on the arm. “Don’t blame us. You were the one who wasted all that time arguing even though you knew I wouldn’t let you come by yourself. Besides, Tara and Kenny wanted to be here with Sean.”

  “And I wanted all of you out of the danger zone.”

  Personally Grey agreed with Sandor, but he recognized an uphill battle when he saw one. “Lena, why don’t you see if you can book another room on this floor for you and the others.”

  “Already did. We’ve got the three rooms next to this one.”

  A sick feeling churned in Grey’s gut. There could only be one reason they’d reserved so many. “Ranulf and Kerry are on their way back to town. How soon will they be here?”

  “Soon enough. Ranulf said once they heard about Piper, there was no keeping Kerry up on the mountain. She’s promised to be reasonable about flying under the radar, but Kerry’s definition of reasonable isn’t always what it should be.”

  Great. Just bloody fucking great.

  There was nothing to do except get on with the matter at hand. “Why don’t I bring you up to speed?”

  Lena raised up on her toes and gave Sandor a quick kiss. “We’ll get out of the way. Keep me in the loop, and let me know if I can do anything.”

  Before leaving she surprised Grey with a hug. “I’m sorry, Grey. She was a wonderful woman and deserved better.”

  As Lena walked away, he decided he agreed. She might have been talking about Piper dying the way she did, but th
e truth was that she’d also deserved better than Grey. If he’d left her on the mountain with Kerry instead of giving in to his selfish need to keep her close, she’d still be alive. Or if he’d thought to take her in the house with him instead of leaving her in the car—easy prey for an enemy.

  Enough of that. There’d be plenty of time later for recriminations and regrets. Grey noticed the look of impatience on Sean’s face. So the kid really did expect Grey to hand over the reins to Sandor for a while. Fine. But only long enough for him to catch his second wind. After a quick nod in Sean’s direction, Grey led Sandor over to the bank of computers Rolf had set up.

  “I’m tracking Harcourt. It shouldn’t be long before we find him.”

  “So you think he’s behind the attack that …” Sandor’s voice trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his sentence.

  Grey ignored the flash of pain in his gut. “No, not really. Harcourt might want the throne for his daughter, but I still think he and his cousin Reggie would’ve tried legal channels first if they thought they could build a case against Kerry. I’m not saying he couldn’t have turned violent if things didn’t go his way, but Harcourt wouldn’t have started off that way. However, he wouldn’t be trying to hide his tracks so carefully if he didn’t know something about the real culprit and wanted to protect her.”

  “You really suspect his daughter Adele?” Sandor sounded doubtful.

  Grey didn’t blame him. It was hard to reconcile his memory of Harcourt’s daughter with the image of a stone-cold killer. But once he’d started digging into her lifestyle, he’d found enough evidence to make it seem at least possible, if not likely.

  “Let’s just say that I won’t be surprised to find out she’s the one behind the scenes pulling all the strings. She has her father’s fastidious nature, but all along I’ve suspected there was at least one complete unknown involved. Bomb makers of that talent aren’t very common.”

  After they had talked for a few more minutes, Sandor gave Grey a hard look. “How long since you’ve had any downtime?”

  “God, not you, too. I thought Sean was our resident nursemaid.”