Dark Warrior Untamed

by Alexis Morgan

  The teenager had been talking to Tara, but he obviously had a Talion’s enhanced hearing because he immediately protested. “Hey, now!”

  Grey exchanged a weary smile with Sandor. “As I was saying, I was told once you got here to take over, I should rest. Who am I to argue?”

  He was only doing it because he couldn’t bear another minute of everyone watching him. Half the men in the room kept him in their peripheral vision as if they expected him to explode. The rest, Sandor included, stared at him with so much sympathy it made him physically ill. Pretending to sleep would at least give him a few minutes of relief.

  “We have these two adjoining suites for a command center, but I also booked one across the hall for whenever someone needs sleep. I’ll be in the bedroom on the right. Anything breaks, send the kid to get me.”

  He started to walk away. “I mean anything, no matter how small. I … I need to … I just need to, that’s all.”

  “Will do.”

  The room across the hall was blissfully quiet. Despite Grey’s reluctance to leave his post, he was running on a combination of adrenaline and caffeine. If he didn’t downshift soon, he’d risk total burnout at a crucial moment.

  He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on top of the comforter. Concentrating on relaxing one muscle group at a time, he ratcheted his tension down to a more manageable level. Gradually, his eyes drifted shut.

  Floating just short of slumber, there was nothing he could do to keep the memories of Piper from slipping in, filling his mind and breaking his heart. He needed to rest, but even more, he craved something to soothe his soul. If he couldn’t sleep, maybe he could still dream; rather than fight the images, he let them come. Remembering. Cherishing. Loving.

  And if a few tears slipped down his cheeks, too damned bad.

  Piper bit back a cry and cursed under her breath when she ripped another nail off. What kind of criminal would do such a crappy job of tying her wrists together, but then use the grandfather of all knots to bind her ankles? She probably had minutes at best to make good on her escape, so she did what she could to block out the pain, as well as the knowledge that her captives were just in the next room.

  If there had been a phone anywhere in sight, she could have wormed her way across the room to call Grey and pray he reached her before her captors decided she’d outlived her usefulness. Not that they’d used her for anything at all. If they were going to hold her for ransom or for leverage, why hadn’t they put their evil plan into action? She had an awful feeling that her time was running out.

  Frustrated with her lack of progress, she looked around. If worse came to worst, she could always wrap the rope around her wrists and pretend to be unconscious. It wasn’t much as plans went, but it was all she had.

  She eased her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It was difficult to balance as she inched her way across the floor to the window. The thick carpet helped muffle any noise. At the window, she braced herself and looked out.

  Whoa! She was on the first floor! If she could get the window open and her feet free, she could reach the neighbor’s place in a few seconds. The lock creaked as she turned it. Despite the noise, the small victory spurred her on. She threw all her strength into opening the window and got absolutely nowhere. After three more tries, she dropped her head against the glass. The darn thing was painted shut.

  Across the room, there was another window. What were the chances of it being any different? She’d never know unless she tried. The shortest route was across the bed. Easing herself back down on the mattress, she started to roll.

  A noise caught her attention—footsteps. She quickly wrapped the rope around her wrists and assumed the position she’d been in when her captors left her. Hopefully, whoever was about to come through that door wouldn’t pick up on her racing pulse.

  A finger poked Piper’s shoulder.

  “Wes, how much of that stuff did you give her? I thought she was waking up a while ago, but she’s still out. Should we dump water on her head or something?”

  Her boyfriend yelled from the other room. “Give it another thirty minutes. I followed the guy’s directions, but he also said that it’s different for everyone. Maybe she’s extra sensitive to the stuff.”

  “Okay, fine, but then I want her awake or it will mess up my plans. Grey already thinks she’s dead. Think how much fun will be to let him find out his lover is very much alive, only to have her die again, but for real.”

  Wes’s voice came closer. “Adele, have I ever told you how much I love the way your mind works?”

  “Several times. All right, thirty minutes and then the games will begin, with or without Grey’s plaything’s cooperation.”

  As soon as they left the room, Piper yanked the ropes off her hands again. She stared at the closed door, her entire body shaking with fury. What had Grey ever done to this woman to make her want to torment him? Obviously there was some history there, something to ask him the next time she saw him.

  With that thought in mind, she started for the second window again. No way did she want to stick around and be a part of any games that Adele and Wes had planned.

  • • •

  “Grey! We need you.”

  The note of excitement in Sean’s voice bounced Grey to full awareness. He rolled off the bed to his feet.

  “What’s up, kid?”

  “Sandor has a lead on Harcourt. We’re getting ready to roll and figured you’d want to lead the charge.”

  “Damn fucking straight. Let’s go.”

  The tension in the suite across the hall had ramped up to a new high, but the aura was different. Now that the Talions had a live target, their sense of purpose was back. Each man had his weapons out, checking them over, pocketing extra ammo clips, his game face on—as the Americans would say. Grey drew strength from their excitement, the extra hit of energy bringing his own warrior instincts into sharp focus.

  Sandor looked up from the computer screen. “Ah, there you are.”

  “What have you got?”

  “A couple of things. Ranulf called a few minutes ago to say they’d be here within the hour. And Harcourt just made a call to the airline, probably to change his flight. I’ve narrowed his current position to a hotel near the airport.”

  Grey stared at the map on the screen, memorizing it. “Let’s go get the bastard.”

  He snapped out orders. “Rolf, you’ve met Harcourt. Pick a team and go hang at the airport in case we miss him. Station men near both check-in and security. Keep it low key because we need to snag him without anyone noticing.”

  He looked at the other Talions. “The rest of you will stay here and continue to monitor the situation until we need you. Rolf, check in regularly.”

  “Will do. Let’s go,” Rolf said, nodding to several of the others. As his team prepared to file out, they all stopped and looked back at Grey. They placed a hand over their brands.

  Rolf gave voice to their thoughts. “Here’s to good hunting, sir. This we vow.”

  Sandor, Grey, and even Sean echoed their sentiments. The Talion connection made Grey grateful to be part of such a dedicated group.

  Grey and Sandor were preparing to leave just as Lena joined them, a grim expression on her face. Sandor reached out to touch her cheek.

  “I know you hate this. I wish it could be handled differently, but—”

  Lena’s shoulders sagged. “It’s how Talions protect their people. I might not like it, but I understand it. Be careful out there, big guy. Don’t show up back here sporting any new scars.”

  Grey winced and looked away, unable to see the love the two had for each other without being reminded of what he’d almost had. He turned his attention to the one other person in the room.

  “Sean, I know you resent being left behind, but I need you here. Hang out with Lena, and watch my phone. If it rings and it’s anyone other than the cop, answer it and then report to me. Can you handle that?”

  “Yeah.”

 
He was obviously disappointed, but at least he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked Grey straight in the eyes and echoed Rolf’s words. “Good hunting, Grey.”

  “Thanks, kid.”

  Outside, Sandor tossed Grey the keys to his sedan. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”

  Soon they were on their way to Harcourt’s hotel. Sandor kept his eyes on the computer screen, watching for any more hits.

  “I’m going to kill him.” There. It had to be said.

  Without looking up, Sandor asked, “Even if it’s Adele behind the attacks?”

  “Even if. The bastard knew what she was up to and didn’t warn us. If he’d called us, we would’ve been able to track Adele down before it got this far.”

  “Adele is his daughter, Grey. I’m not defending his actions, but maybe he thought he could stop her himself.”

  “She might be his daughter, but Kerry is his Dame. That’s treason any way you look at it.”

  “Maybe, but you’ll need to wait until Kerry issues the order. If she does, I’ll be right there beside you.”

  There wasn’t much Grey could say to that. Even if Kerry hesitated, there was no way he could leave anyone who was responsible—even partially—for Piper’s death breathing.

  Luckily, the traffic gods were smiling on him. They made it to Harcourt’s hotel in record time. Sandor shut down the laptop.

  “Nothing new.”

  They both stared at the hotel. “Got any ideas about how to find him? There must be a hundred rooms in that place.”

  A slow smile spread across Sandor’s face. “You might as well put that snooty British accent of yours to good use. American women seem to have a real thing for it. Tell the clerk at the counter that you’re Harcourt’s driver and ask her to tell him know that you’re here for him.”

  Grey was mildly insulted, but he was willing to try anything. “And if he won’t come down?”

  Sandor shrugged. “At least we’ll know he’s still here and then we wait.”

  Grey got out of the car and headed for the door, pausing to make sure his shirt was tucked in and his jacket hid his gun. Inside the lobby, he headed straight for the desk, glad to see that a woman was on duty. He doubted a man would have succumbed as easily to his charm.

  The woman looked up as he approached. “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Yes, I’m here to pick up Lawrence Harcourt to take him to the airport. Can you give me his room number so I can help him with his luggage?”

  She looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, but he called a shuttle to take him to the airport. They couldn’t have left more than five minutes ago. The van stops along the way, so he would have been better off waiting for you.”

  Grey quickly switched gears, trying to look disappointed. “I knew I shouldn’t have picked up a quick bite on the way. My boss is not going to be happy. Mr. Harcourt isn’t the type to ignore poor service.”

  The clerk smiled sympathetically. “But he makes up for it by ignoring good service, doesn’t he?” Then she glanced back toward the office door behind her. “Whoops, I probably shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

  “Nothing but the truth. Well, I guess I’ll go face the music.” He took a step back, looking worried.

  The woman took pity on him. “Listen, if your boss calls, I’ll tell him that Harcourt decided to leave early and didn’t bother to cancel your services. That much is true.”

  “Thanks, luv. I appreciate it.” Grey winked at her.

  “You’re welcome.” Her smile heated up a notch. “And by the way, I love the accent.”

  Chapter 17

  Grey slid into the car and started the engine. “Call Rolf and warn him that Harcourt took a shuttle to the airport. They unload on the lower level of the parking garage.”

  Sandor hit Rolf’s number on speed dial. “Do you want them to snatch him or save the fun for you?”

  “We can’t afford to make a public spectacle of this, not with that detective already on us. If they can get a clear shot at grabbing him, tell them to go for it. Otherwise, keep him in sight until we get there and figure something out.”

  “Will do.”

  While Sandor relayed the instructions, Grey maneuvered through traffic quickly, but without drawing unwanted attention. In his head, he imagined the sweet taste of Harcourt’s fear even as he maintained outward control. Later, when they had the man in custody, Grey would harvest all the information the elitist snob had on the attacks.

  Once Grey had learned everything he could, Harcourt’s fate would be in Kerry’s hands. Would she be able to take the hard stance required by Kyth law? God, he hoped so. If she couldn’t, if she wavered at all, she might as well paint a target on her chest. Even if this current rebellion failed, it wouldn’t be long before some other fool tried the same thing.

  “Tell me, is Kerry up to this?”

  Sandor didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “She’s stronger than you think.”

  Which didn’t exactly answer his question. “This is going to get bloody before it’s over. We have to handle it right or every Kyth out there with a God complex will be making a play for the throne.”

  “Kerry’s smart enough to know that. She may have had the role of Dame dropped in her lap with no warning, but she’s a fast learner. She could’ve walked away and didn’t. With Ranulf beside her, they would’ve given Judith and her Consort a run for their money even back in their prime.”

  Sandor paused. “And with Piper being … well, Kerry’s out for blood. We all are.”

  The mention of Piper’s name cut through Grey’s chest, but it strengthened his resolve. Sandor’s conviction that Kerry would see justice done was also a comfort.

  “Better call Rolf for an update. We’re here.”

  • • •

  In the end, the hunt was disappointingly short. Grey and Sandor parked in the garage and ran for the sky bridge while Rolf and his men blocked the terminal side. Even though the aristocrat wasn’t yet in sight, Grey could sense the man’s turmoil and savored the pungent spice of his fear. He inhaled deeply, drawing power from Harcourt’s churning emotions. This was going to be good.

  Grey stopped himself, not liking where his thoughts were taking him. No wonder they had laws forbidding feeding off the darker, more addictive emotions.

  His cell rang. Rolf gave him a brief report and hung up. “They’ve spotted him just ahead.”

  Sandor smiled. “Let’s get the bastard.”

  As yet unaware that he was being tracked, Harcourt started across the sky bridge toward the terminal. When he was about halfway across, Rolf and the others stepped out to block his way. Looking for an escape, he wheeled around only to find Grey waiting only a few feet away.

  “What’s the matter, Lawrence? Don’t you have a minute for an old friend?”

  Harcourt didn’t answer, but once again tried to reach the terminal. Grey walked in step with him as he headed for the escalator behind Rolf, probably figuring the Talions wouldn’t risk a major incident if he could reach the main concourse. Wrong. This time, they’d do whatever it took to get the job done.

  “Get your men out of my way, Danby. I have a plane to catch.”

  Grey reached out to brush a speck of imaginary dust off his quarry’s shoulder, enjoying watching Harcourt flinch. “There, that looks better. I have to ask why you’re in such a hurry to leave Seattle. I can’t tell you how hurt Grand Dame Kerry is that one of her faithful retainers was in town and didn’t stop by.”

  Grey crowded closer. “You are a faithful retainer, aren’t you, Lawrence? I would hate to learn otherwise.”

  Now in a state of near panic, Harcourt shoved past Grey and retreated back across the bridge, heading for the questionable safety of the garage. He skidded to a halt when Sandor stepped into sight. Slowly the Talions all started forward, herding Harcourt right back toward where Grey waited.

  “What are you doing, Danby?”

  “We’re still waiting for your answer, Lawrence. Are you loyal to our Dame?”


  Harcourt’s blood ran cold. Oh, God, he was a dead man. They already knew the answer to that question. It was there in the brittle anger flaming hot in their eyes. How had they found him?

  Like that mattered. His chance of escaping was nil; his chance of surviving only slightly better. He had to try, though.

  “You have no right to interfere with my plans, Danby. Call off your dogs.”

  Rather than look insulted, a young Talion coming from the other end of the sky bridge smiled. “Woof, woof.”

  His companions laughed and joined in, barking softly as the pack closed the circle around Harcourt. He spun around, looking for a weak link in the wall of angry warriors or, failing that, some hint of sympathy for his plight. He didn’t find it.

  “I didn’t do it, Danby. I swear it wasn’t me.”

  Ice-colored flames danced in Grey’s eyes. “You didn’t do what, Lawrence?”

  He fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t sentence him to death. “I’m not the one behind the attacks on the Dame. I swear it.”

  The whole group took another two steps toward him, causing his knees to buckle. “Please, Grey. You know me. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “Like what, Lawrence? Mail a letter bomb? Send threatening e-mails? Blow up Ranulf’s Packard? Kill Piper Ryan, the Dame’s assistant? Tell me, Lawrence, did you know Piper was also Kerry Thorsen’s sister? Though she was much, much more than that to me.”

  The Dame’s sister? Dear God, what had Adele done? He’d heard tales about the terror of being hunted by the Talions, but never expected to experience it himself. “Please. I’m not the guilty party.”

  Grey moved closer so Lawrence could feel the rage flowing off him in waves. “You know, Sandor, I think I believe our good friend Lawrence. He’s too much of a coward to attack the Dame or her people directly.”

  Grey brushed his hand over Lawrence’s shoulder again and then straightened his tie, tugging it a bit too tight. “So, no, you’re not guilty of any of that.”

  Grey stepped back, but Lawrence’s relief was short-lived, because the Talion’s open hand lashed out and collided with his face, jarring his teeth and drawing blood. “But you bloody well know who is behind the attacks and you did nothing to stop them. For that, you will face the Dame’s justice.”