When she spoke again, she asked another question. “Did they ever find out what caused the explosion?”
He made a sound, something between a laugh and a growl. “Not what, but who. My lab was sabotaged.”
Her gasp told him he’d shocked her. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” And he didn’t. “The police didn’t seem too worried about finding the answer. I’m not sure they believed me.”
“Then what did they think happened?”
“Who knows. An experiment gone awry, maybe. It’s been known to happen.”
The thoughtful silence that followed told him she was considering exactly that possibility. He couldn’t blame her. He would have done the same.
“Do you have proof that the explosion was sabotage?” she finally asked.
“No. If I did, the police might have taken me more seriously. I was badly injured and on the edge of death, from what they told me. They eventually put me into a medically induced coma until my burns healed, to keep me from excruciating pain.”
He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice detached and unemotional. “By the time I was coherent enough to even talk to the police, any proof I might have been able to gather had vanished. They, of course, found nothing.”
Next she asked the only question that made sense. “How do you know, then? How can you be one hundred percent certain that it was sabotage and not an accident?”
He gave her the simple truth. “I can’t. But I know, believe me. There wasn’t a single thing in that lab capable of causing that explosion. Not one single thing. Whoever caused it meant to kill me.”
“Why? Why would anyone want you dead?”
“I can think of a thousand reasons,” he replied, aware his brutal honesty would no doubt shock her. “In my profession, I’m at the top. There are always others who would like to see me knocked down a peg or two.”
“Maybe so.” She acknowledged the frailties of their humanness in a wry voice. “It’s like that being royalty, too. But I would think it would be different for you. You’re a doctor. You help humanity. I can’t help but find it difficult to believe that someone would actually kill to do so.”
“You have no idea.” Shaking his head, he decided that rather than attempt to enlighten her, he would list other reasons why someone would attack him. “And even if that wasn’t the reason, there’s always my research.”
“Research? You mean this research.”
“Among others.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, but I think you’re really overreaching now. As if any shifter would want to stop you in your attempt to figure out a way to enable them to remain human longer.”
“You just don’t comprehend the atmosphere in the scientific community. It’s dog-eat-dog. Whoever makes a major breakthrough in something like this will have made their name among the Pack.”
“I understand,” she said, but he knew that she didn’t.
Again a companionable silence fell. Though often she seemed to be brimming with questions, small talk and flirting, now she was quiet. He wondered how he was able to feel so comfortable being led through a forest and up a mountain, stark naked in broad daylight.
Finally, he realized they were heading downhill rather than up. He commented on this, asking her if they were nearly at the cabin.
“No.” She squeezed his hand, as though for her own reassurance. “We’re not going there. I changed my mind. We’ve begun to double back. We’ll criss-cross a path toward where we left our clothes. Once we retrieve them, we’re going to try to make it back to my car, assuming it’s still drivable.”
Nodding with approval, he squeezed her hand back. “I like your boldness.”
“Thank you.” She sounded pleased. “But it’s not really all that bold. If the persons who shot at us are still around, they are somewhere else hunting us. The last thing they would expect is for us to head back here.”
He had to agree. “I take it that you haven’t seen any sign of the shooter? No tracks, nothing to give us any idea who it might be?”
“No.” She sounded grim. “Believe me, you’ll know if I see anything. I left my cell phone in the car. As soon as I can get to it, I’m calling royal security so they can get out here and take a look.”
A few moments later, he smelled the faint coppery scent of blood. It had to be from their earlier kill. “We’re almost there, aren’t we?”
“Not almost. We are here.” She shoved his clothing into his arms. “Get dressed. And hurry. I’d like to get out of here quickly, just in case our enemy comes back.”
Resisting the urge to mock-salute her, instead he did as she asked. When he’d finished, running his fingers down the middle of his shirt to make sure it was buttoned correctly, he waited for her signal or touch. He was ninety percent sure he knew which way to go, but couldn’t be positive. If the wind hadn’t shifted direction since they’d arrived, he could make his way to her vehicle as surely as if he had sight.
“Are you ready?” This time instead of taking his hand, she locked her fingers around his wrist. Without waiting for an answer, she tugged him forward. “Come on, then. This way.”
He’d been right. He would have been able to walk there unassisted.
“My car looks undisturbed,” she said, clearly pleased.
“Did you lock it?” He prayed she had, even though the chances were slim. After all, they were in the middle of nowhere.
“Probably. Force of habit, you know.” She moved forward and he could tell she was checking the doors. “Yes. Thank goodness for routines.”
A beep sounded as she unlocked the vehicle. He moved forward without waiting for her to lead him and connected with the car, fumbling for the door handle. Sliding inside, he buckled in while she did the same, locking the doors immediately.
Putting her cell phone on speaker, she dialed. While it was ringing, she started the car, put it in Drive and took off.
Someone finally answered, speaking in the Teslinkian language. Braden understood none of the rapid-fire exchange that followed, with Princess Alisa sounding increasingly calm and the other man growing more and more agitated.
Finally, Alisa concluded the call. “Can you believe that?” she asked, sounding furious.
“Since I didn’t understand any of the conversation, I have to take the fifth,” he said drily.
“The what?”
“Sorry.” He realized he might have well been speaking his own private language with that phrase. “It’s an American reference to our Constitutional Bill of Rights. It basically means that I refuse to comment.”
She tsked. “Why didn’t you just say that? Much cleaner and more simple. My bodyguard was angry that we came out here unaccompanied.”
“I can well imagine,” he said drily.
“There will be hell to pay when we get back.”
A sudden burst of fury shook him. Delayed shock, most likely. “There should be. I don’t know about your country, but in the rest of the world an assassination attempt is a big deal.”
“Believe me, I am taking this seriously.”
“Are you?” Heedless, he let his anger show in his voice. “You don’t sound like it. You should be worried or, at the very least, afraid. Most women would be terrified.”
“How do you know I’m not?” she shot back.
If she hadn’t been driving, he would have kissed her. As it was, he could only seethe and battle the adrenaline coursing through him like liquid fire.
“You could have been killed,” he said. “Both of us could have.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Her voice had gone stiff, formal. “I’m a princess. I’m not allowed to overreact.”
Instead of replying, he listened as she changed gears. Their speed increased and for a while the perfect hum of the car’s finely tuned engine as she negotiated the winding curves was the only sound.
He thought of the explosion and how there’d been rumors of espionage. If he was successful, his work would have far-r
eaching implications to change for the better—the existence of his kind. In the wrong hands, he supposed such knowledge could be used as an instrument of power.
And then there were those who viewed such a thing as unethical, contrary to the nature of their beasts. Would they be willing to kill him to stop its development?
Finally, she broke the silence. “I still don’t understand why someone wanted to make an attempt on my life.”
“If that is what happened, it had to be because you’re a princess.”
“True, but I’m nothing in the scheme of things here. I’m way down the list of succession, I’m not married to anyone influential, and I have no power. How would anyone benefit from my death?”
He took a deep breath, aware how his next words might sound. “Maybe they weren’t trying to kill you at all. It’s entirely possible that whoever blew up my lab traveled here to finish off their attempt. The shooter might have been gunning for me—assuming they weren’t simple hunters.”
* * *
“Aiming for you?” Alisa tried to hide her shock. In her experience, most doctors had a healthy-size ego, but this took the cake. “How is it possible that you honestly believe that everything is ultimately about you?”
“Because I—” he started to say.
But she wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. “You are in Teslinko now. No one here knows you. On the other hand, I’m royalty, a princess, for hound’s sake. My family is constantly worrying about death threats and kidnapping attempts. That’s why we have bodyguards.”
Frowning, he didn’t appear convinced. “But still…”
She swatted at his shoulder, frustrated. “You know little of my country or my family and nothing about me beyond my ability to remain human for longer than most consider normal.”
“I know more than you realize,” he interjected, sounding nearly as annoyed as she. “I did study your family quite extensively before leaving America.”
“Not extensively enough. You didn’t even know that I went to America to go to college.”
“I had a crappy research assistant,” he said. “Sue me.”
He still didn’t get it. Fine. She’d lay it on the line for him. “For an intelligent man, you understand nothing. Please think about this for a moment, Braden, er, Dr. Streib. Because if you truly believe someone is after you, I will have to inform my family. I can assure you that my father will end my participation in your experiments if he must worry about my safety.”
She glanced at him. He faced straight ahead, scowling. His lack of response told her that the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.
When he finally did speak, the husky tone in his low voice sent an involuntary shiver through her. “Perhaps I was wrong.”
She grinned, glad he couldn’t see her. “Perhaps you were.”
“Then you do want to help me with my research?” he asked, turning toward her.
Surprised that she didn’t even have to think about it, she nodded, more for herself than him. “Yes, I do. If by my existence, I can aid other shifters, then I definitely am willing to assist you.”
Though she waited, he didn’t respond, not even to say thank you. But when she glanced at him, the pleased expression on his craggy features made her smile widen.
A strange man, this Dr. Braden Streib. But the more time she spent with him, the more she found she liked him.
“Describe this place to me,” he said abruptly. “I would like to know how everything looks, from the inside of the palace to the lands without.”
Glad of the distraction, she smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “Many people find our palace beautiful. It’s primarily constructed of white marble and is designed to mimic the Palace of Versailles in France, except we have no hall of mirrors.”
“Something in your tone tells me you don’t agree.”
Startled by his astute observation, she shrugged, before remembering to give a verbal response. “I find the palace to be rather cold. It’s like an icicle glittering in the sun. Lovely to look at, but if you hold it too long in your hand, it will begin to melt.”
He lowered his brows at her remark but didn’t comment.
“The real beauty here is in the wilderness,” she continued, letting a note of pleasure infuse her voice. “Our mountains make a jagged slash in the bright blue sky, the snowcapped peaks a gorgeous backdrop for our deep, deep forests and flower-strewn meadows.”
“And does the air come alive with the sound of music?” he asked, grinning.
She swatted at him. “The movie? Did I sound like a poorly written travel brochure?”
“No,” he replied, becoming serious. “You sound like someone who really loves their country.”
“I do,” she said, thinking that she could love something—or more specifically, someone—more, if given the chance.
The thought should have shocked her, but she’d been living with this awareness simmering inside her for a while now. In fact, she’d felt a twinge of it the first time she’d ever seen him. Currents of electricity, sizzling in the air between them. She wondered if he’d felt it as well.
She could easily come to love this man.
The instant they arrived at the palace, her father’s bodyguards swarmed them, surrounding the car. Despite her protests, Braden was hustled off separately from her. The muscular, stern-faced men refused to listen to her protests, urging her along.
“The king is waiting,” one said sharply, arms crossed.
Of course. Her father would be furious. Not with her, but because of the fact that someone—anyone—had dared to make an attempt on her life.
When they reached her father’s private chambers, the men surrounding her did not follow. As she entered, both her parents crossed the space to her, enveloping her in a huge hug. Her mother’s perfume and her father’s scent of pipe tobacco made her instantly feel better.
Finally, they broke apart.
“Thank the hounds you are okay!” Queen Ionna cupped Alisa’s face in her hands and leaned in close as though to examine her for signs of injury. Her blue eyes were suspiciously bright.
As her father seconded that sentiment, he pointed to a chair. “Sit. Sven has questions for you.”
“Sven?” She glanced around. Finally, she saw Sven standing unobtrusively in the back of the room. One of her father’s most trusted aides, he’d been head of security for the last eight years.
As she made her way to the elaborately carved hardback chair, she forced herself to forget Braden’s suspicions about the shooter, preferring instead to focus on what she did know.
Still, he should be here for the questioning.
“Where is Dr. Streib?” she asked. “Don’t you want to talk to him as well?”
“He is being questioned separately, Your Highness.” Sven’s tone might be courteous, but his harsh expression told her he would brook no argument. “Now, tell me what happened today.”
Fine. She straightened her shoulders. In as crisp and clear a tone as possible, she relayed that day’s events, sticking only to the facts. They’d driven to the forest, changed, and someone had shot at them. “And that is all I know,” she finished.
Expression unchanged, he studied her. “How did you escape?”
“We ran.” Her shrug implied their escape had been no big deal. They all knew otherwise. “Since the doctor is blind, he took my tail in his mouth and followed me. Once we judged the assailant had left, we returned to the area where we’d left our clothing and changed back. Then we got in my car and returned home.”
“Alisa Marie!” Speaking for the first time, her mother appeared on the verge of fainting. “How can you take such risks?”
Before Alisa could answer, her father spoke. “She exhibited quick thinking, my dear. She would not have risked returning to her clothing and vehicle unless she knew for certain there was no danger.”
Sniffing audibly, the queen lifted her chin and glared at her husband. “I want to know why she was shape-shifting with D
r. Streib in the first place.”
“Good question,” Sven said. “Please explain.”
“He is doing research on me.” Keeping her eyes on her father, she waited for him to confirm her statement and save her from further explanation. When he did not, she reluctantly continued.
“He needed to change and he wanted to see what I was like once I changed, for research purposes.” She looked down, reluctant to share details of what had been an intimate and fun afternoon, at least until the gunshot.
“And?” Sven prompted.
Refusing to let him intimidate her, she met his gaze. “And that’s all. I changed, he changed, too, and someone shot at us. You know the rest.”
With a nod, Sven looked past her, at the king. “I believe I have enough. If I may be excused, Your Highness?”
King Leo nodded. “Close the door behind you. We wish to have a word with our daughter in private.”
Great. Squaring her shoulders, she forced a smile, aware that she probably wasn’t fooling them.
Sven bowed and left. The instant the door closed behind him, Queen Ionna crossed to an ornate, embroidered settee and took a seat. “Sit,” she ordered, patting the cushion next to her.
Alisa sat. “Mother? What’s this about?”
“You, of course,” the king responded, standing in front of them and eyeing Alisa. “Both your mother and I are very concerned.”
“Please, don’t worry. I’m sure your security detail will find the person that shot at me.”
“Oh, I’m certain they will.” Her father raised a brow. “But that part of your safety is only one of my concerns.”
Now her mother interjected. “You are acting completely out of character, Alisa. What on earth possessed you to shape-shift with a perfect stranger?”
“A perfect stranger?” Agitated, Alisa jumped to her feet. “I fail to see how shifting with him is any more intimate than submitting to endless medical exams and tests.”
Her father turned away and her mother made a sound of impatience. “You know why. You are a young, beautiful woman. A princess. He is a virile man. I know you are aware of what happens once you change back from wolf to human.”
The Wolf Princess: The Wolf PrincessOne Eye Open (The Pack) Page 9
