by Harper West
“Fuck that,” I snap. “We’re already attached, and you know it. I can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”
He sighs. “No.”
“I want her, Ryker,” I murmur, leaning towards him. “More than anything, anyone.”
“I feel the same way.”
I collapse back into my chair, exasperated. We can agree on a woman to share easily, but this is a hundred times more difficult than rutting with just any woman. Julia called to something within us, and I’ll be damned if I let Ryker’s stubbornness get in the way.
“Ryker pull you head out of your ass, this is no ordinary woman. Not your average fuck,” I hiss, clenching my fists.
He glowers at me. “Watch your mouth. Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Come on.” I force myself to relax. “We can at least see if her friends are back. And if she doesn’t want us to stay, we won’t.” But by God I hope she wants us to stay.
I can tell I’m making headway, slowly breaking down his resistance. But now isn’t the time to surge forward, now I have to let his own desires do the work. He groans, tossing his head back to the ceiling. “Fine, fine. Just for a little bit. Just once, you understand?” He holds up a single finger.
I grin victoriously. “Oh, yeah, just once,” I lie. If given the opportunity, I know we’ll both make love to her an infinite number of times.
I slap a few bills down on the table as Ryker stalks to the door. My core is clenching with excitement at the prospect of finally meeting Julia in her hotel. Outside, the festival is in full swing, music blaring over the outdoor speakers, drunk people dancing through the streets. We never get to see this part of the festival, our duties end at sunset and we never stay longer than necessary. If we weren’t desperate to reach Julia I might actually enjoy this. As it is, they’re all in our fucking way.
Ryker and I push our way through the crowd towards the hotel. I look up at it eagerly, imagining Julia in a thin shift, settling into her plush bed. But suddenly, I feel a tight grip on my arm. I round on the man angrily. But when I recognize him, I roll my eyes exasperatedly. “Bruno, we need time here,” I say to the head of my security detail.
Bruno shakes his head, rage clear in his eyes. “I don’t think so. We’ve been traipsing all over this damned village to find you two morons. I’ve had my fill of hide and seek. Let’s go.”
Ryker glares at Bruno and shakes off the second guard. “Lead the way, Bruno.” His voice is like ice and I know he’s pissed.
Hell, I’m pissed. I’m tempted to fight tooth and nail to get to Julia, but I know Bruno can kick my ass seven ways to hell. As Bruno and his men lead us away from the hotel, Ryker and I can’t help but glance back, hoping to catch sight of Julia in the window. But we don’t, and then the hotel disappears from view. Bruno drags us to the helicopter waiting on the outskirts of town.
Ryker and I clamber in wordlessly. Bitching at Bruno won’t change anything, and we don’t need to say anything to know that our hearts are twisting painfully in our chests. I hear the chopper’s blades beating rapidly as we prepare to take off. I can hardly comprehend the fact that Ryker and I won’t see Julia again.
Chapter 6
Julia
“For the last time, I did not sleep with him!” Martha insists, striding away from me to take another photo of an elegant renaissance statue.
“Oh, come on.” I follow her, fishing my own phone out of my pocket for a picture. “You cannot tell me you spent almost the entire night with the man and didn’t sleep with him.”
She bites her lip and looks at me from the corner of her eye. “Alright, we totally fucked!”
Maverick, her twin brother, shudders. “Too much information, Martha, too much. At least wait for me to get out of earshot.”
She waves him away lazily as he strides off. We’re in Ivanfjord now, the capital of Nordonia. When we first arrived, we were exhausted from our early trip out of Levere, but we all perked up after our first activity. It’s exciting to be in Ivanfjord, hailed by travel magazines as one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, it’s certainly not disappointing us. The streets are wide cobblestoned lanes with quaint bakeries and other small businesses. I know there’s a financial district in Ivanfjord with more elegant, modern buildings, but we’ll spend most of our time in the historic neighborhoods around the palace.
I turn away from Martha as she gushes about the Nordonian she met in Levere to snap a few photos of the palace from a distance. She met him at one of the pop-up pubs and spent the festival drinking and dancing with him before returning to his room. Martha has always been much braver than me, I would never go home with a complete stranger. I stare thoughtfully at the palace in the distance, we’re touring it soon, but taking our time to see as much of the city as we can on the way. After all, it was six months of saving up for this trip and we’re not going to waste it. Martha certainly isn’t, I smirk.
“Oh my God, Julia, he was an artist,” she sighs.
“An artist?” I turn, wiggling my brows at her.
“An artist in the sheets. These European men, they just know something American men don’t.” Martha leans against a tall metal fence, looking lost in thought.
I laugh a little nervously. Martha has always been much more sexually liberated than me. So far, she’s slept with a man in almost every country, so… a grand total of three so far. And we’re not even half way done. Sometimes I worry that I’m living vicariously through her sexual exploits, and then I remember that I don’t want to accidentally catch an STD and I feel a little better.
My thoughts wander to the men I met in Levere, the two who undressed me with their eyes. I feel my core heat at the memory of their faces, the way their eyes watched me so predatorially. If I was ever to do anything crazy, Harry and Ryker would be the ones to tempt me. But, I’ll never see them again, I sigh. I could have at least gotten their numbers. Idiot. Martha snaps her fingers in front of my face, drawing me from my thoughts.
“You used protection, right?” I ask. Martha often teases me by calling me the mom of our little group. What she really means is that I’m a buzzkill.
She rolls her eyes. “Of course, Mom.”
I sigh, ignoring the slight. “So, did you get his number? Email? Address for snail mail?”
“No,” she quips. “In the end, I wasn’t feeling it. He was kind of clingy afterwards.”
We wander towards a park. There’s an open antique market here, rows and rows of haphazardly set up booths stocked with antiques of all kinds. We meander through it, stopping occasionally to inspect an item. I pause above a blanket where random objects are laid out. I spot three pistols immediately.
Laughing, I bend down and pick one up. “Oh my God, Martha, aren’t firearms illegal here?”
She turns and spots the gun in my hand. “They are, what the hell?” She laughs.
“This should be regulated,” I chuckle and put the old weapon back on the blanket. “You just never know what you’ll find when you’re traveling.”
“Like love,” she teases, drawing out the “o” in the word. “You never did tell me what happened at the LevereFest.”
“I told you, you traipsed off with that guy, I lost Maverick in the crowd, and then I wandered around for a bit until I found the hotel again,” I say, sifting through a rack of shirts.
She eyes me knowingly. “Then why are you blushing?”
I lift a hand to my cheek, it is hot. I didn’t tell Martha or Maverick about meeting Harry and Ryker. For whatever reason, I simply didn’t want to. They were my secret. My intimate memory of Nordonia.
“It’s hot,” I say, shrugging.
“Right, right.” She winks. “Your door was locked when we got back.”
“Martha, seriously?! We’re in a foreign country, I’m not going to leave my door unlocked. Besides, you didn’t get back until three in the morning.”
“Uh-huh. I’m just saying, if you had a special visitor, you can tell me about it,” she says.
Martha has been my confidante for years, since we were ten. But it’s been slipping for a while now. I’ve gotten involved with my work and my travel dreams, and she’s gotten wrapped up in one-night stands with sleazy men she meets online. It can’t be helped though. Being left by her fiancé broke something inside of her. Now Maverick and I do our best to pick up the pieces. Instantly, I feel guilty for distancing myself from her.
“I would tell you,” I say. “I promise.”
She nods and wraps me in a hug. “I’m so glad we’re finally doing this.”
“Me too.” I grin, hugging her tightly. “Our childhood dream, finally realized!”
“Okay, let’s get Maverick and head to the palace for the tour now,” she says, pushing away from me.
We find him perusing a pile of old photographs in a box. He holds up a picture of the former queen, a blond woman with a bright smile. “Apparently, her daughter looks just like her,” he muses. “Pretty.”
“Somebody has a crush,” Martha teases him, digging her elbow into his ribs.
He shoves her away playfully and they start to argue. Martha and Maverick never quite grew out of their bickering faze. My theory is that it’s simply because they’re twins and spend so much time together. After a minute or two of watching them with amusement I tug them away from each other.
“Come on, the palace awaits!” I chirp, urging them forward.
They eye each other suspiciously but the fighting stops. As we get closer to the palace, the crowds get thicker. Luckily, I don’t lose them in the throngs of people this time. As we shove through the last group, we finally see the palace rear up before us. A massive structure of beautiful grey stone and gold filigree, the palace is a long rectangular building with six or seven stories. It’s beautiful and imposing, and a classic example of Nordonian architecture.
We make our way to the end of the long line of people waiting for tours. The palace is still in use by the royal family, namely Queen Helena, so it’s only open to the public for a few days each year. The line is long, but we know it will be worth the wait. And the tour guides are efficient, we wait less than an hour before it’s our turn to enter the palace.
Our footsteps echo through the massive rooms, whispered voices ringing back at us from every angle. I snap photos nonstop as we wander through on our guided tour. The tour guide is a young woman, probably a college student, who speaks with a charming accent.
“And this is the Hall of Mirrors,” she says, gesturing towards a closed door completely encased in gold. “It is only open for coronations. We have photos of the room for you to enjoy, but unfortunately, we are not authorized to enter the Hall of Mirrors. Now, let’s continue on to the East Library.”
As the group wanders away, I peer back over my shoulder at the golden doors. They’re beautifully engraved, detailed and intricate. I’m sure the pictures don’t do the room justice. My curiosity is tugging me towards the room, but Martha and Maverick are waiting for me at the back of the group. I turn away from the room and hurry towards them. We follow the tour deeper into the palace, and I can’t resist one more glance at the Hall of Mirrors before it disappears around the corner.
Chapter 7
Ryker
It’s been over twelve hours since we said goodbye to Julia outside her hotel in Levere, and that’s twelve hours too long. Harry and I feel like caged lions, stalking back and forth in the conference room in the Hall of Senators. My hands are clasped tightly behind my back, the nail of my thumb scraping the flesh of my hand in an attempt to distract myself from the thought of Julia.
I’m still furious that we left her in Levere. More furious at myself for not taking the chance to woo her. That would have been an experience. But my own misplaced sense of duty and control jeopardized that.
The senators seated around the table eye us disapprovingly, but I don’t give a damn, and neither does Harry. Technically, we should be sitting at the table with the other senators, a collection of dukes and counts. But Harry was never interested in the politics and I’m too on edge to focus on matters of the state.
So, we pace while they talk and argue and debate. At the head of the table sits Queen Helena, our close friend. She called us here for an emergency meeting. The emergency has yet to be disclosed, meaning the meeting is dragging on and on. And there’s a particular activity Harry and I would rather be engaged in. An activity that involves Julia’s climatic exploration of Nordonia. Not that we even know where to begin to find her.
I’ve already been considering hiring a private investigator to track her down so we can finally see her again. I have the sense that a single glimpse of her would set me at ease. And then of course, fuck her until she’s screaming.
Helena sighs heavily. “Would you two sit down? You’re driving me insane,” she snaps, her dark eyes flaring angrily.
We halt, exchanging an irate glance. We’re not ones for obeying orders, being as contrary as we are. But Helena is our queen, our monarch, so we do as she says. Harry props his feet on the table like the asshole he is, I glower at Helena. There’s no rule that I can’t glare daggers at her. She rolls her eyes and then rises. Helena doesn’t wear a crown, she doesn’t wear gowns. She dresses like the politician she is; in a simple pantsuit.
“Lords and Ladies,” she begins. “I’ve called you here today for an emergency meeting and it’s time we got down to business.”
She pauses. Helena always did have a flair for the dramatic. Harry and I roll our eyes in sync with one another. She’s been this way since we were children. She always knew she was set for the throne, and had a penchant for commanding us about when we were kids.
“The economy is tanking; last year’s drought has hit us harder than we anticipated. You all know this. I now propose a solution. I have been propositioned by the King of Akana. He proposes marriage and new trade routes that will boost our economy and make trade less expensive. I’m accepting the proposal.”
Immediately the senators are in uproar, rising from their seats, shouting over one another. Harry and I exchange a dark look, Helena has always put country first, but she doesn’t even know the King of Akana. My lips are a thin line as I watch her survey the senators. Even though she doesn’t show it, I know she’s terrified right now. Terrified for Nordonia. And for herself.
“Should we talk her out of it?” I murmur to Harry.
“What? Now? Hell no. Not in front of the other senators. We’ll wait.” He takes his feet off the table, knowing how serious this is. It’s not the time for insolence.
He’s right. We always put our full support behind Helena, at least in public. We keep our disagreements private, for the sake of saving face. It wouldn’t do if it appeared that we didn’t support Helena. There would be a hefty price to pay for both us and Helena. Silently, we watch and listen as the senators bicker amongst themselves. Finally, Helena slams her fists on the table, silencing the senators immediately.
“This is not up for debate,” she hisses. “Sit down. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think we must adjourn for a half hour.”
She stands and sweeps out of the room; Harry and I rise together. We know when our friend is in trouble. Following her, we stride from the room, leaving the arguing senators behind. We find her in her personal office, her head on the desk.
“Helena,” I say as we slip through the door.
She moans in response.
“Oh, did we interrupt?” Harry jokes, plopping onto the sofa.
“I’m not in the mood, Harry, Ryker. Take your jokes elsewhere.” She doesn’t lift her head.
I wait for a moment, hoping she’ll look up and glare at us, or at least force a smile. Something. Harry opens his mouth to retort, but I silence him with a hand on his shoulder. I don’t think there’s anything we can do for Helena at this point.
“Harry, let’s go.” I haul him to his feet as he protests. “Shut up, let’s go.”
Outside he shakes me off of him. “What the hell, Ryker?”
&nbs
p; “Let’s get the fuck out of here, I’m going insane cooped up in here and Helena wants to be alone.” I lead him to the streets outside.
He shrugs, through he mutters under his breath. Something about not manhandling him. I snort with derision, but remain silent. We don’t usually bicker. But having missed out on Julia, the two of us are on edge. We finally slam through the main doors of the Hall of Senators, out into the warm summer air.
The Hall of Senators is located in the capitol of Nordonia, Ivanfjord. The city is busy with tourists, the Hall of Senators is a popular stop on city tours. We slip our guards easily, losing them before we’ve even descended the steps of the imposing building. The tours have started early today, everyone and their dog knows the senators were called in for an emergency meeting by Helena and everyone’s hoping for a glimpse of their beloved queen.
The Hall of Senators is a massive white stone building situated above ground level, only reachable by climbing an imposing staircase. Tourists pose on the steps for photos, a few of them eyes us curiously as we jog down the steps in our suits. There have been times in the past when Harry and I were stopped to pose for photos by either the rare individual who actually knows who we are, or someone who simply hopes we’re important. Today though, we don’t have the patience for that.
We staunchly ignore the tourists, and when we reach the street level, we duck into the crowds to avoid the gazes of the guards. “What are you planning, Ryker?” Harry asks as we join the throng of tourists. We go with the flow of traffic towards the tourist traps.
“What always makes Helena feel better?” I ask, heading directly for the over-priced souvenir shops down the cobble-stoned street.
Harry laughs. “Those fucking bobbleheads. Damn, I almost forgot.”
Years ago, when Helena was first crowned, Nordonian tourist traps introduced a plethora of Helena Bobbleheads in a variety of outfits. They’ve got Helena in full regalia, Helena as a police officer, Helena in a bikini, and much more. She started collecting them ironically, but now I think she’s grown to love those ridiculous bobbleheads. I nod, and we weave through the crowd towards the one shop I know will have just what we need.
