The Royal Elite: Mattias

by Bourdon, Danielle

  Feeling caged and dangerous, Mattias finished off his drink. He set the glass on a side table and lurked in a shadow, watching every single move the man made. The way he set a hand on Alannah's hip and clasped her fingers in his. The second Mattias saw any kind of nefarious movement, he would be all over the couple in a heartbeat. Surely, however, no assassin would be as brazen as all that.

  A minute ticked by. And another. The man bent his head to say something near Alannah's ear, pulling her an inch closer in the process.

  Again, Mattias felt a protective (or was it possessive?) need to rush the floor and separate the two by any means possible. He wanted to pace his agitation away while one song blended into another and still, the couple swayed.

  Then, as seamless as anything, dancers emerged from the side doors onto the stage. The women wore gowns reminiscent of the thirties, with elegant long skirts swirling around their ankles. Instead of a modest bustline, these dresses of glittering peach, cream and white ended in a bustier at the ribs with sheer material arching over the women's breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination. Anyone could clearly see the outline of their nipples. As for the men, the once neat tuxedos were open down the front, exposing a swath of muscular, golden skin. Ties had been undone and left draped around their necks, as if the men were nothing more than Chippendale strippers in disguise. The pants fit snug, like a second skin, outlining the hard muscles of their buttocks, hips and groin.

  Typical for this kind of party. The dancers engaged each other on the stage, staring into one another's eyes while fingertips skimmed over body parts the onlookers only wished they could touch.

  Mattias took in all that detail with one quick glance. Loathe to allow Alannah and her suitor out of his sight for longer than that, he put his attention right back on the two, hoping to see their dance come to an end. Perhaps the gentleman in the tuxedo would be inclined to steal away one of the women on the stage, which is what would begin to happen within the next hour. Those without partners or who did not find a partner of their own in the room could be assured a willing participant in the stage dancers. For dancing, drinking, conversation—and other things.

  Briefly, Mattias wondered if Alannah meant to indulge in the easy lay. Just to prove that she could after discovering Mattias with Katrina. Why the thought of Alannah lying with any man made him so volatile, he couldn't say. He wasn't unaware of the double standard regarding himself and Katrina. Mattias knew he could make a handful of reasons why it didn't matter to him that he'd slept with the blonde, none of which would probably appease Alannah in the least.

  Finally, their dance came to an end. The man tipped his head close to Alannah's ear and they exited the floor together.

  Mattias broke from cover and used the crowd to his advantage, following at a discreet distance. Senses honed from years of training, he put everything else from his mind barring Alannah's safety. If her bodyguard was here anywhere, Mattias hadn't seen him. Wouldn't it be just like the heiress, however, to dismiss him for the evening, confident she was safe in a larger crowd.

  Caught by surprise when someone grabbed him by the elbow, Mattias stopped and turned a murderous look toward the perpetrator.

  The woman, dressed in white with a mask resembling a swan, looked taken aback at his ferocity.

  “What do you want?” he asked, voice grating over the words. He glanced ahead through the crowd, desperate to keep track of Alannah and her suitor. Already the milling throng had swallowed the pair up. Mattias couldn't see either of them, which put him more on edge than before.

  “Well, I thought a dance, perha--”

  “No.” Mattias didn't let her finish. Tugging his arm from her grasp, he cut a path the same way Alannah and her man went, looking for the glitter of her gown as well as the distinctive color of her hair.

  He found nothing. No sign. The pair could have circled back through the room—or the stranger could have lured Alannah out and away. If Mattias left the party without making sure Alannah wasn't within, the two might slip out another door while he was stalking the long halls of the manor in search. As well, if he took the time to scour the room a last time, it might give the man time to spirit Alannah somewhere else. Somewhere dangerous.

  It was a bad situation with no easy answers.

  Cursing a blue streak under his breath, Mattias paced a circuit of the room, sticking to the perimeter. They weren't at any of the wine stations, the buffet tables at the back, or tucked into a shadowy corner. While the party-goers and stage dancers upped the carnal nature of the gathering, Mattias ducked out one of two doors, leaving his mask in place for now.

  The only couple in the corridor was a woman in a peach gown and not one but two men escorting her away.

  Alannah wasn't anywhere to be seen.

  Jaw tight with tension, Mattias stalked the other direction, glancing down adjoining hallways and past doors into darkened parlors and rooms.

  He had to locate Alannah.

  If he didn't, he thought her chances of surviving the night were slim.

  Chapter Seven

  The two drinks Alannah consumed upon arrival at the private party helped loosen her inhibitions. It also helped her put the Prince from her mind. She found it a little easier to dance with strangers as well and, finally, to leave the secretive gathering arm in arm with her companion. He seemed pleasant, with a rich, deep laugh and sparkling green eyes behind his mask. She could see the color easier once they were in the hallway. They weren't as mesmerizing as Mattias's eyes—Alannah shut the thought down before it could go further.

  She paid scant attention to the twists and turns of the corridors, laughing quietly at this or that quip and adding a few of her own. What she meant to accomplish with this clandestine rendezvous, she didn't know. It wasn't like her to hop into bed with random strangers yet here she was, allowing him to guide her to an unknown destination. It wasn't his suite, considering they were headed in the opposite direction of the stairway.

  “So tell me what made you attend that party anyway. It doesn't seem like your kind of gig,” the man asked. He led her onto a dimly lit, small terrace still wet from the rain. Rain that had, temporarily, stopped falling. Puddles collected here or there on the concrete, which he guided her skillfully around.

  “I don't know. I kept hearing about them, so I thought I would see what it was about. Rather tame compared to the rumors,” she said.

  “Tame at the time we left. In another half hour, maybe less, things will get a lot more risque. I guarantee it.” He guided her down a set of stone stairs and around the corner of the house.

  “Think so? Maybe. I guess we should have stayed to see for ourselves.” Alannah stumbled and gripped the man's arm tighter. He stabilized her effortlessly and she whispered her gratitude. Darkness hung over the gardens and landscape, making it difficult to see beyond the narrow path they currently walked on.

  “Or we could make our own show, hm?” The stranger flashed a bright, charming grin her way.

  Laughing, Alannah trustingly followed her escort through a nondescript side door along a wall covered in ivy. A sense of space opened up around her, broad and tall and expansive. Bay windows allowed enough light to penetrate the gloom, creating a dull shine on chrome detail. She knew before glimpsing the gleam of paint on cars that they had entered a garage. Sleek vehicles of all makes and models sat in neat rows, waiting for their owners to return.

  “Wow.” Alannah temporarily forgot about shows and parties and everything else. It wasn't the expensive vehicles that had her attention so much as how many fit into the garage itself. She thought there must be fifty cars, all told.

  “This is just one of a few garages on the property and the only one attached to the manor. The rest are separated. I'm sure you've glimpsed them out the windows.” He guided her unerringly to a gleaming Jaguar with custom, red paint.

  “I haven't noticed,” Alannah admitted. A niggling sense of unease penetrated the haze of alcohol when he unlocked the passenger door and
gestured her inside.

  “Wait, we're leaving the house?” she asked, frowning. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She didn't want to leave the grounds themselves or the relative safety of Barrett. Who, she lamented silently, was nowhere to be seen after she'd staunchly dismissed him at the doors to the party.

  “Actually, no. There's a small lake further back on the property with a gazebo and miniature lights and everything. Very cool. I visited yesterday in the company of a Morano daughter. I thought we could watch the moonlight on the water and talk.” He smiled, keys jangling in his fingers.

  He seemed so harmless with his carefree, boyish answers. Alannah decided to throw caution to the wind and check out the lake with him. What would a little talking and fresh air hurt? Except she secretly wished it was Mattias instead of a stranger. She wanted to explore these things with the Prince, watch his reactions to their surroundings. Dismayed that she continued to lament over Mattias, she firmly turned her attention back to the present. Reaching up, intending to remove the mask, she paused when the stranger touched her wrist to stall the motion.

  “Leave it on. I like the mystery. Maybe we can take them off later.” His voice dipped into a quiet purr.

  “All right. We can visit the lake for an hour, no more.” Putting a time limit on the sojourn made Alannah feel a little better.

  “Of course.” The stranger reached to cup her elbow, obviously intending to help her into her seat.

  “Excuse me, Sir. Madam. No one is allowed to leave the complex.” A male voice echoed through the garage.

  Before she could slide into the seat, Alannah paused to acknowledge the staff member approaching from the opposite direction. Dressed in typical black and white, flashlight in hand, he hailed them with a wave.

  “We're not leaving the grounds,” the stranger said. “Just a quick trip to the lake out back.”

  “I'm sorry. Mister Morano is requesting guests stay within the manor itself or in the main garden.” The staff member closed the distance until he was within a few feet of the couple.

  “All well and good for Mister Morano,” the stranger replied. “But I am not a prisoner here. I'll come and go as I see fit.”

  Alannah felt the stirring of unease once more. She wasn't so drunk that all her internal instincts had gone numb. Placing a hand atop the seam of the open car door, she said, “It's all right. We can go back to the terrace and sit there.”

  The staff member and the stranger stared each other down. While the employee was polite and considerate, he was also adamant. He said, “The terrace is a good choice.”

  “Unfortunately, that's not where I choose to go. Now if you please.” The masked stranger took a step forward, edging on the verge of a threat.

  Alannah picked up on the body language as easily as the employee did.

  “Again, I apologize for any inconvenience, sir. But Mister Morano--”

  The stranger cut him off. “Take about ten steps back. The lady and I are going to visit the lake and when we're done, we'll return. Should I decide after that to depart the property altogether, then I will.”

  It happened in the final words. As the stranger detailed out exactly what he would and would not do, he reached out for the Morano employee and yanked him into a choke hold. The flashlight fell from the employee's fingers, beam slashing violently through the dim garage, until it landed with a crack on the concrete floor. Moments later, the employee slithered to the ground, unconscious. Maybe dead. Startled, Alannah spun away from the car, instincts screaming to depart the garage as quickly as possible.

  “I don't think so,” the stranger growled near her ear.

  She got one good scream out before a hand clamped across her mouth. Another snagged her around the waist. Fighting the hold, she twisted her head and kicked backward with a heel, hoping to make contact with the stranger's leg. The 'gentleman' yanked her around and shoved her down into the seat, strong enough to accomplish his goal without much trouble. She went for his eyes through the mask, taking a deep breath to scream again, hoping someone had to be close enough to hear.

  Blocking her strike, he produced a length of duct tape that had obviously been pre-cut, waiting for use, and clapped it across her mouth. Another piece went around her wrists after he captured her flailing arms.

  “Try to escape the car again and I'll do you right here,” he said. Backing up, he shut the car door and walked around the front to the driver's seat.

  No one had to tell Alannah that the stranger's threat wasn't a sexual one. It was deadly, plain and simple. If she tried to escape, he would kill her now rather than later.

  Dizzy with fury and liquor, she sent up a silent prayer that Barrett would charge onto the scene any second and stop the stranger dead in his tracks.

  The very last door in the second hallway from the party had a plaque that read Staff Only across the front. Mattias barged in anyway, heedless of rules and regulations. Something soft and heavy on the other side impeded Mattias's progress, forcing him to put a shoulder to the wood and push harder. The door gave a few more inches.

  Peering around the edge, Mattias saw a body on the floor, face down. He could see just enough to recognize Barrett's dark hair and familiar clothing. Pushing inside, he stepped over Barrett's leg and crouched next to the body. He used his fingers to feel for a pulse. Mattias found a heartbeat, thready and weak but viable.

  Springing to a stand, he shouldered out the door, on the hunt for help.

  “Mattias!”

  Chayton's voice registered just as Mattias tensed for a fight. Easing his defensive posture, he faced his brethren. On silent feet, Chayton closed the distance.

  “Barrett's down,” Mattias said once Chayton drew up at his side. But Chayton didn't stop. He put a hand against Mattias's shoulder and herded him further down the hall with clear urgency.

  “We've got bigger problems. Our upstairs lookout was struck from behind and then got dragged into an empty suite. He's alive, but Alannah's not in her room. Someone knows we were watching her. She's probably in immediate danger, so I hope you know where she is.”

  Mattias stopped at the end of the corridor, where two closed doors and a hallway led different directions. Hissing a curse, Mattias said, “I was just behind them. She left the party with some other man. So far, I haven't found them.”

  “Did you get a good look at the man?”

  “Like everyone else, he had a mask on. I didn't recognize anything else about him that made me think I've seen him here before.” No distinct tells, nothing to give the identity away. “But the fact that Barrett is out cold, along with the lookout, proves the rumors were right.”

  “Exactly. She is in danger. I—wait. What's that noise?” Chayton paused and tilted his head.

  In the distance, the faint sound of music and voices echoed into the hall from the party. It was another sound that Mattias latched onto, the same sound he suspected Chayton heard. A rumble not unlike an earthquake, except the ground wasn't shaking.

  “The bay doors in the garage. Someone opened them manually.” Mattias broke into a run with Chayton on his heels. Considering the late hour and that most other guests were busy with parties, Mattias would have bet a year's pay that the garage door had to do with Alannah and her 'companion'. Ripping off the mask, he threw it to the side and pulled a firearm from a holster hidden beneath his tuxedo coat.

  “Mattias. I'm going to cut through and hit the front. If you don't stop him, I may be able to before he gets completely off the property.” Chayton veered away at the last second, light footed, and disappeared down another hallway.

  Mattias kept moving. He knew where the entrance to the garage was. Hitting the door, he went through low but fast, weapon out in front. Tail lights flashed on a red Jaguar driving toward the open bay at the end of the garage. Mattias wasted no time. He stopped, aimed for a back tire, and fired. The bullet hit metal instead of rubber when the Jaguar turned out of sight onto the drive.

  Mattias rushed toward a
parked Mustang, new and shiny, sitting close by. He knew the staff kept the keys on the floorboards for easy access. Dropping into the driver's seat, he angled the gun between the slim space beside the console, felt around the floor until he found the keys, and jammed the right one into the ignition. Peeling out of the space, he sped to the opening and swerved around the corner, hot in the Jaguar's tail. As he picked up speed, he caught a glimpse of tail lights through the foliage lining the drive.

  The gate loomed a quarter mile ahead, already open.

  Open, as if someone expected to leave the property tonight. Warning bells went off somewhere distant in Mattias's mind, but he ignored them in favor of getting Alannah back alive.

  Out of the corner of his eye, through the darkness, Mattias saw a flash of motion in the yard. It had to be Chayton, heading for the gate. He wasn't going to make it in time to stop the Jaguar.

  The vehicles tore down the drive and fishtailed onto the road in front of the manor. Mattias caught up to the Jaguar in the turn and nudged the car's bumper with his own. Metal whined. The Jaguar's back end swerved sharply to the right, one wheel sliding off asphalt to dirt. Surging forward with a spray of debris, the Jaguar put some distance between cars. Tint on the windows obscured the occupants from view.

  Mattias wasn't letting the driver get away with the heiress. Under any circumstances. Punching the gas, he caught up to the other car and bumped it from behind hard enough to force the Jaguar around in a half circle. Hitting the brakes, he spun the wheel so that the Mustang faced the driver's door of the Jaguar. Reaching down, he yanked his weapon from its temporary sheath.

  Just as he grabbed the door handle, intending to get out and rush the other car, a hail of gunfire forced him down across the seat. Bullets punched holes in the windshield and the grill of the Mustang. Another few cracks split the night, coming from somewhere other than either car. Chayton and Ahsan would not be shooting at him, and the angle was wrong to be coming from the Jaguar.