by Susan Grant
She gripped his arms, trying to lose herself in his kiss, letting his hands go wherever they wanted, even though her thoughts were pinging off in a thousand different directions. When she felt his body tremble with pent-up desire, she wished she could feel the same.
But something was just.. off. They were like two pieces that didn’t fit together quite right. Should she let him make love to her anyway? To see if her feelings would change with intimacy, but the thought of that didn’t feel right, either. She liked him too much to play with his feelings, if in fact he’d developed any for her. Come to think of it, she could never tell what he really thought of her, beyond being a challenge and a novelty.
She broke off the kiss. He mistook her restlessness for excitement. Nuzzling her throat, he asked, “Where would you like to make love? Here in the gardens? Or in the baths? Or maybe you would like the pleasurable conventionality of my bed. Perhaps all three, one after the other.” He planted his hands on her hips, his expression one of lazy, sensual anticipation. “Well? Where shall we begin?”
She shook her head. It was hard to disappoint him. “I...can’t make love with you. I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”
Surprise and then displeasure flared in his face. Then he let out a heavy sigh. “Then we will wait,” he said with forced cheer, as if straining to hide his disappointment. “But I must warn you—my patience will not last forever,” he added in a joking way that hinted there was some truth there, too.
She wondered what would happen when his well of patience ran dry. Hugging her arms to her ribs to ward off the encroaching chill, she said, “It’s not you, Kyber. It’s me.” What would Cam have advised in this situation? The thought of her missing friend almost brought tears to her eyes at the same time it conjured anger. She turned her head so he wouldn’t see. “Maybe everything will fall into place when I have some closure.”
“‘Closure.’ What does it mean?”
“It’s twenty-first century psychobabble for wishing I knew for sure what happened to Cam, so I can put it behind me.”
Kyber walked away to stand by the reflecting pond. His long shadow fell over the water, sending the fish bobbling away to cower under the broad leaves of the water lilies. More than ever, she sensed his loneliness. He was a physically imposing man, boisterous and giving, but there remained something defensive at the center of his personality. And it was that self-protectiveness that made him seem vulnerable. It was as if he used his exuberant charm as a shield to deflect anyone from noticing the sensitivity of his feelings, the hidden hurt. She hoped with all her heart that he found a woman someday who would love him the way he deserved.
Tiredly, he said, “Again, you’re asking me to search for your missing friend.”
She stood behind him, her hands squeezed together. “One last time. I’ll go with the team myself—”
“No.”
“I’m healed. I’m strong. I don’t see a problem with it.”
“I do.”
“Please.”
He turned around. His eyes were as cool and hard as granite. “No. I cannot allow you to leave.”
“You can’t or you won’t.”
“There are things you don’t understand, Banzai.”
“Like what? Tell me! I don’t want to be kept in the dark.”
He shook his head. “What you want can only lead to harm. You must stay here under my protection. Trust me in this. Let it go, this quest of yours.”
Giving up meant surrendering. And Bree knew that was the one thing she couldn’t do.
***
“Thirteen ... fourteen ... fifteen!”
At Joo-Eun’s count, Bree dropped from her pull-up bar to the ground. Winded, she shook out her arms and walked in a little circle. Ever since she’d decided she was leaving the palace no matter what Kyber wanted, she’d been working out in earnest. Not only would it get her in shape for what hardships might come, it helped vent her frustration that came from not knowing exactly how she’d tackle her grand plan. A week had passed and still it hadn’t left the drawing board, while autumn and colder weather were fast approaching. If she didn’t figure out something soon, she’d have to wait until spring. More time wasted. And by then, maybe someone else would have gotten to Cam, someone not as generous and compassionate as Kyber—or as focused on duty as the soldier in the basement, who cared more about claiming a prize for his country than saving a soldier’s life.
“Crunches next,” Bree said, and sat down on the exercise mat. Ugh. She used to be in shape. So far, all she felt was sore.
Joo-Eun crouched down and grabbed hold of Bree’s ankles. The embroidered tunic the girl wore fluttered over knee-length pants. Two long braids slipped over her shoulders, a hairstyle that made her look even younger than she was. Dutifully, she pressed Bree’s bare feet to the mat.
“You don’t need to do that.” Bree patted the mat next to her. “Join me.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Crunches?”
“That’s right. You can do them, too. Building a little muscle is good for everyone.”
Joo-Eun seemed to puzzle through that before she grinned. “I will join you!”
Her tunic swung as she bounced to the floor and got into position, hands behind her head. There was a flash of silver and black on her upper thigh, but by the time Bree processed what she’d glimpsed, the tunic had billowed back in place.
Joo-Eun stuck her elbows out to the sides as she’d seen Bree do. “I am ready.”
“All right!” Bree put her hands behind her head and lowered her upper body to the mat. “On my count. One, two, three...”
Joo-Eun kept pace with her. Bree pushed herself, her abdominals burning, but her mind wouldn’t step away from what she’d glimpsed strapped to Joo-Eun’s thigh. What the hell was it? A knife? A gun?
Was Joo-Eun a bodyguard? If so, had Kyber assigned the girl for Bree’s protection, or to keep her from running away?
Bree squeezed out one last crunch. Then she collapsed backward on the mat. Joo-Eun kept going, seemingly caught up with the enjoyment of the exercise and companionship.
Bree watched the teenager in awe. “Okay, Joo-Eun, I’m dog-tired and you’re not even breathing hard.”
The girl stopped immediately. She lay side by side with Bree and pretended to be out of breath.
“You can’t fool me.” Bree flipped over and raised her body on extended arms. “Ready for push-ups?”
Bree gutted out twenty-five push-ups before her arms turned to melted rubber, and, again, Joo-Eun stopped only because she did.
Bree narrowed her eyes at the girl. This equation didn’t add up. One possible thigh holster plus one dose of incredible athletic conditioning didn’t equal a housemaid. “How did you get in such great condition?”
Joo-Eun jumped to her feet. “I have many chores. They make me strong—”
Bree swung her leg out and hooked Joo-Eun behind the knees. The girl landed hard on her butt, her legs sprawled. Bree saw the holster again. It wasn’t a gun but an industrial-sized blade strapped to her thigh.
“Is one of your chores me?” Bree grabbed for her wrist to put her in an arm-lock, but Joo-Eun evaded the move, jumping into a crouch. “A hard body, martial arts skills, and a weapon, too? I’m learning a lot about you today, Joo-Eun. You’re not really a maid. Tell me the truth.”
What little color remained in Joo-Eun’s porcelain skin had pooled in her cheeks. Her shyness was gone, replaced by wary vigilance. Sweet? Slow-witted? That girl had vanished into thin air. Bree didn’t know who had taken her place.
Sweat gleamed on Joo-Eun’s forehead. She stepped backward, fear flickering in her eyes. The two women circled each other, the tension high.
“The others don’t know about me,” Joo-Eun said. “Will you tell them?” She watched Bree carefully, as if gauging her reaction.
Bree thought of the blade and swallowed. The wrong answer could get her throat slit. “What is there to tell? You’re carrying a knife. Is that a crime?”
Joo-Eun tugged on one of her braids. “I am not what I appear to be.”
“Obviously.” Her simpleminded companion was a street-smart knife-wielding karate champ. “Were you assigned to protect me, or spy on me?”
“Neither. I am your friend.”
“Friends don’t keep secrets from each other.” But that wasn’t true. Bree had plenty to hide. Joo-Eun wouldn’t know of her plans to find Cam, because she hadn’t confided in anyone, not even Kyber.
This time Joo-Eun’s voice took on a pleading tone, sounding more like the girl Bree knew, the girl who looked up to her and wanted to be her friend. “Don’t tell them.”
The girl’s reticence set off Bree’s protective instincts. The king was upstairs in a back room, unable to hear, speak, or walk. She’d make damn sure Kyber didn’t end up like his father. “On one condition. You give me your word that you’re not undercover on behalf of some group that wants to kill the prince. Otherwise, no dice. And if you think you can kill me that easily with that knife you’ve got hidden under your dress, think again.” Bree brought up her hands. “I won’t go down easy.”
Bree was ready for any movement that might indicate Joo-Eun was going for her knife. She was mightily rusty with her self-defense training, but adrenaline would be her ally.
“I would never hurt you, Banzai Maguire.”
“I wasn’t talking about me.”
“Hurting the prince would be hurting you.”
Bree lowered her hands a fraction. She wanted to trust the girl, but some part of her held back, wisely reserving judgment. “I owe the prince my life. I won’t let anything happen to him. If your group is involved in a plan to—”
“No. That is not what we do. We would never do such evil as was done to the king.” Bree saw the truth in Joo-Eun’s eyes. Whatever activities she was involved in didn’t include assassinating the prince. “And, the shadows want you to succeed.”
“Succeed in what?”
“In what destiny has brought you here to do.”
Bree lifted her brows. “Destiny had nothing to do with it. A mad scientist did. You’re looking at an experiment gone wrong.”
Joo-Eun turned her hands palms up. “So are you.”
Bree’s defensive stance faltered. It felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. “Because you’re a clone.”
Joo-Eun’s braids bobbed as she nodded. Her expression was wrenching and earnest. “Because my DNA will never allow me free travel in my own country. Because I will never be able to have children. Because one mention of what I am brings revulsion and fear.”
Bree’s heart went out to the girl. “Not to me,” she whispered.
Joo-Eun bit her lower lip and glanced away. “I know.”
The friction drained away. A truce had emerged between them. An understanding. Joo-Eun was involved in covert activities of some kind, but her loyalty to Bree wouldn’t let her hurt Kyber. Bree believed her.
The girl had also mentioned destiny. Bree was less convinced of that. Unless that destiny included finding her best friend. If Joo-Eun was so much a believer in destiny, maybe Bree could convince her and her connections to lend a hand—not directly, but by giving her the one man who could.
Commander Tyler Armstrong.
Yet, to win his cooperation, Bree would need to give him something of value in exchange for the favor, something that would indebt him to her big time.
Joo-Eun might just be the path to that trade.
The clone took a shuddering breath and turned back to Bree. “I owe you much for keeping my secret.”
“How much?” Bree winced at her shamelessness, but tragedy had made her an opportunist. If she let chances pass by, they might never come again.
“Anything, Banzai Maguire. Ask anything, and the shadows will fulfill your wishes.”
Bree smiled. “Free Tyler Armstrong.”
“Done,” the girl said.
But the deal they struck came with caveats on both ends. Bree made sure the girl understood it mustn’t be just any prison break. She herself must be the one to release Armstrong, so he’d know who gave him the gift of freedom. Then she’d tell him why.
As for Joo-Eun, she wouldn’t tell Bree when the opportunity would come, assuring her only that it would.
“A day,” Bree had asked. “Can you at least give me that?” She was a fighter pilot. Fighter pilots prepared for missions.
But all Joo-Eun gave her was: “Kingdom Day. Be ready when the shadows come.”
Kingdom Day? It was a national holiday celebrating the anniversary of the Kingdom of Asia’s declaration of independence, and it was only a few days away.
Chapter Thirteen
Bree planned and prepared for the celebration, but there was little she could get ready without arousing suspicion. All she put aside was a small survival pack with water, a little food that wouldn’t go bad, a digital map, and a few tiny palace trinkets she knew had value but wouldn’t be missed. She would have liked a couple of firearms to throw in, too, but where would she get them?
Now the day of shadows, Kingdom Day, had come. Joo-Eun told her to look for those shadows to make her move, but Bree didn’t know what, where, or who. The sun was setting, and she hadn’t seen any sign of when, either.
Bree pulled her hair out of her ponytail and shook it free, nervously jamming the loose ends behind her ears as she walked away from the window—and away from the inevitable fall of the sun behind the secluded wooded acres around the palace.
Kyber was off making appearances at the various festivals and fairs in the nearby vicinity—with his huge contingent of staffers, government officials, VIPs, and guards. Everyone except her. “You will be safer at the palace,” he’d said, and for once she didn’t argue.
She sat down at the desk in her room. Folding the note she’d written to him in half, she slipped it under the edge of the vase of roses he’d sent her. Did people handwrite notes anymore? She didn’t know. Finding paper and an ink pen hadn’t been easy. But saying “good-bye for now” via the palace computer and hitting send didn’t seem to convey the message she wanted to get across.
Maybe she was an artifact.
She’d put her heart into that letter, hoping it blunted the hurt she knew she would cause him. It took away a little of the guilt she felt over abandoning the man who’d nursed her back to health. But only a little. Ignoring guilt was her specialty.
Of course, he didn’t love her. She was a challenge to him, a novelty. Her leaving would be like the Hope Diamond sprouting legs and walking out of its display case. Traumatic, yes; psyche-bruising, no. Kyber, she’d written, I hope you will see this as my duty, not my betrayal I have to know what’s beyond the palace gates. I don’t have your permission, but I ask for your understanding…
She’d said nothing about looking for Cam. She’d left him thinking she’d gone off to search for her ancestors.
“You haven’t touched your dinner.” Dr. Park glided over to the table wearing her all-business physician face. A server sister followed her and gathered up Bree’s picked-at plates of food. “You’ve lost almost a kilogram this week. I will have to give you supplements.”
Bree had lost all those grams from being too hyped-up to eat, but the doctor didn’t need to know that. “I had a big lunch. And, I’m tired.” Bree rubbed her eyes. “I think I may go to sleep early tonight.”
“On Kingdom Eve? And miss seeing the fireworks and the parades from the balcony? No, you cannot. I know Prince Kyber will not let you sleep.”
“He’s out.”
“He’ll be back for you.”
And that, Bree thought, would complicate things. Maybe she’d be gone by then. “I think I’ll take a bath. Maybe it will wake me up.” And deflect Dr. Park’s over-active motherly worry. Then the woman would move on to other concerns. If she had any. Her life was seemingly dedicated to her work, and thus to Bree.
The doctor followed her to the bathing suite.
“Don’t tell me you’
re going to work tonight,” Bree said.
“I do have some tasks to attend to.”
“If I’m going to stay up, then you have to do something fun, too.” She practically pushed the woman out the door. “Go. I’ll see you at the fireworks.”
“I will look for you later, Banzai.” The woman’s expression went soft with tenderness. She smiled at Bree and left the suite of rooms.
Bree sighed as she watched the physician go. “Sorry, Dae,” she whispered. It would have been easier to leave if she was escaping a castle full of bad guys. Guilt, guilt, guilt. It sucked.
Joo-Eun would have accompanied her to the bathing suite, which was adjacent to Bree’s quarters in the medical ward, but the girl was absent. If not for their strange encounter the other day, Bree would have assumed she was attending one of the holiday events. Now she couldn’t help wondering what trouble the girl was getting into.
Yet, how often did she ever find herself alone? Not often. It was nice.
Bree stripped as she walked, leaving a trail of clothes, boots, and underwear behind her. Fragrant steam thickened the air, blurring the outer edges of the room so that she had a hard time telling how large it was. It was big, she knew that. Everything was always supersized in Kyber’s palace. Supersized and luxurious.
She dove into an enormous bath rimmed with swirls of pale blue and gold glass mosaic tiles. The sound system played a recording of outdoor nature sounds that Bree preferred to music. As she paddled backward, the pool’s rim of glass tiles glistened. Where would her next bath be?
Forget that, where would she be in the morning?
She was packed and ready to go, but so far, no shadows. The holiday was almost over. Time was running out, for Kingdom Day signaled the end of the summer season in Paekdusan and heralded the move to an even grander palace thousands of miles away in the city of Beijing. Had Joo-Eun lied to her? She could have. Sure, Bree knew her secret, but it had no value if the girl had skipped town.
Bree dunked her head under water. Breaking through the surface, she flipped her hair out of her eyes. The wooded scene in the window-wall was gone, replaced by a floor-to-ceiling image of Prince Kyber.
