Darling laughed again, but didn't respond to his sarcasm.
Caillen shrugged the robe on so that Boggi wouldn't call him a savage... again. "This"--he gestured to the ornate palace room that was bigger than most of his former apartment building--"isn't my style. I don't belong here and we all know it." He belonged on his ship, running through blockades and giving cardiac arrests to authorities. Most of all, he belonged in the bed of a woman who was more into keeping rhythm with him than not messing up her hair.
He wanted to leave this place behind and go home so badly he could taste it.
But it wasn't that simple. He actually liked his newfound father.
And worst of all, he'd made a promise to the man that he'd try this for a year before he made up his mind about leaving.
Why did I pick a krikkin year?
Much like that thirty minutes in his cell, it hadn't seemed all that long at the time. Now it stretched out into infinity and he hated it. He barely saw his father and when he did all they talked about was how unacceptable his behavior was.
Suck it up, Cai. You signed on for the mission. And he would see it through.
Even if it killed him.
"I told you, Sire. He's an animal that doesn't belong here. I realize he's your son, but honestly, you need to send him back to the gutter that created him."
Evzen shook his head at Bogimir's condemnation as he watched in front of the monitor bank in his office. Caillen laughed with his friends while he stood with his hand on the grip of his blaster as if ready to defend at a hair's notice. It was a cocky stance that belonged to a rogue outlaw. Not a prince.
But a prince he was...
And it was his job to make his son realize that destiny.
"He's not an animal, Advisor. And you would do well to remember that he is a prince of this empire and as such deserving of a deferent tone when you refer to him."
While Bogimir blanched from overstepping his position, Evzen glanced at the monitor where Caillen was still grinning with proud satisfaction over the destruction he'd wrought. He, too, was amused by his son's aim. Rude but impressive though it was. "Granted he's a little rough around the edges--"
"Sire, please... He h the manners of a ruffian and the sense--"
"He is my son." One he'd thought dead for these last long years. Dead because he'd failed to keep the boy safe.
To have his son back and alive...
It was a blessed miracle and it was one he didn't take lightly. He didn't care that his son knew nothing of the aristocracy or diplomacy.
Actually that wasn't true and he knew it. "Caillen speaks thirty-eight languages and most of the dialects of each one. Fluently. Not just tutored versions learned through instructional vids and teachers. He knows the idioms and the culture as well as the natives. He understands the intricacies of their politics and laws better than I do." He cast a meaningful stare at Bogimir. "Better than most cultural advisors I've known."
More than that, Caillen knew how to fight better than the top ops of his elite forces. The first day Caillen had been in the palace, he'd found twelve holes in their security and had shown them how to shore up their defenses.
His son was brilliant.
"Sire--"
"Don't." He held his hand up to cut off Bogimir's words. "You will train him and you will treat him like the prince that he is. I want no more arguments."
"Yes, Sire." Bowing, Bogimir left him.
Evzen sighed as he turned toward the mic on his desk where he'd been talking to his brother before Bogimir had interrupted them. "Did you hear all of that?"
"I did indeed."
"And what do you think?"
Talian took a minute to consider his words before he spoke. "You want my answer as your top military advisor or as your devoted brother?"
"Both."
"As your brother, I agree with you completely. Even though he's less than diplomatic, Caillen is brilliant at assessing situations and determining how to handle them--if not always at defusing them. You couldn't ask for a better successor."
"And as my advisor?"
"He's impulsive and brash with an overdriven libido that has him chasing anything with breasts. Left unchecked, he'll drag us into war over something completely stupid like shafling someone's daughter and wife, probably at the same time. He has potential, but I think Bogimir is correct. He lived in the gutter too long. Had we found him sooner, he might have been salvaged. Now... he doesn't belong in our world and he isn't adjusting to it at all. Truthfully, I don't think he wants to. Let him go home, Ev. For all our sakes."
Evzen's chest tightened at those words as grief choked him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Caillen again. Yes the man was rough around the edges, but he was funny and highly intelligent.
He's my son. Most of all, he had faith in Caillen. In time, he had no doubt his son would adjust.
Yet Evzen was owned by his people. His first priority had to be their safety and welfare. It was a mantle of responsibility he wanted to bequeath to his son. But if Caillen refused...
I have to try.
Evzen met his brother's gaze on the monitor. "Let's see how he does on the Arimanda."
Talian heaved a sigh of remorse and disgust that said his brother was nowhere near as thrilled to have Caillen back in the line of succession as he was. "I'll assign an extra detail to him."
"Why?"
"The Qillaqs? Remember them? They're sending an entire quorum for the assembly. And I can see this disaster coming. You know how their women dress... or more to the point, don't. Whatever we do, we have to keep Caillen away from them."
His brother was right. The Qillaqs were a warring race who tolerated no one easily and especially not offworlders or men. One wrong glance and they'd attack.
And so would Caillen.
Evzen frowned. "I thought they had declined the summit."
"They did originally. But I received word this morning that their queen herself will be joining us. Apparently there's something of great import she wishes to declare before the council. Our luck, it's probably an act of war. Let's just hope your son doesn't make it one against us."
Evzen watched while Caillen argued with Bogimir in the room. Maybe he should leave Caillen home while he attended the summit. But he didn't want to be away from his son for two weeks. Not when they were still getting to know each other. Not to mention the fact that Caillen was an expert in negotiating with the Krellins and was even well acquainted with their crowned prince. They desperately needed a trade agreement with them that he'd been working on for three years with no progress. If he didn't get that to go through during the summit and be ratified by the council, it would be three more years before he could attempt it again. By then, their colony, which needed supplies and protection, would be destroyed and all her citizens enslaved. His people couldn't wait six more months, never mind three years.
Caillen was the only hope they had.
Therefore he'd take his son and watch him.
Closely.
He had all faith that everything would turn out just fine.
Until he remembered Caillen's favorite saying. Never underestimate a Dagan's ability to screw up the best-laid plans.
And right now, his son still considered himself a Dagan.
Every time Evzen heard that name it enraged him. His son was a de Oczy. One of the oldest and finest of the ruling houses. His was a legacy people had killed for.
But not Caillen. He was the only man who honestly didn't care about wealth and its trappings. While his son was happy to have the finer things, he was just as happy, if not happier, without them.
Baffling.
And that made him want to weep. His son was a complete stranger and he was trying to understand him. He was. But the more time they spent together, the more Evzen had to face the truth.
When all of this was over, he would most likely lose his son all over again...
Caillen breathed a sigh of relief as Boggi took off in a huff again and
left him alone with his friends. The moment the door sealed shut, he twisted out of the stifling robes and threw them to the floor. Then he jammed the signal in the room so that neither his father nor his father's security detail could spy on them. He really hated that crap.
Maris tsked at him. "It's just plain cruel the way you flash that hot body of yours at me all the time, Cai. I swear I've never wanted to be a woman more so than I do right now." Biting his lip, he looked at Darling. "Those abs... it's criminal to look that good and be straight. Couldn't you just lick those muscles all night long?"
Darling screwed his face up in distaste. "Uh, no. He's too much like a brother to me. I honestly find that thought repugnant."
Maris snapped his neck and wrist in a purely feminine gesture. "I am yanking your membership card." He returned his attention to Caillen and made a purring growl in the back of his throat. "One night, baby, and I could change your religion."
Caillen gave a good-natured laugh. "You keep saying that, but I know you better. You like to be the pursuer, Maris. The moment someone chases you, you run for the door."
Laughing at the truth, Darling shrugged his outer robe off and tossed it back to Caillen. "You know, Maris is right. You can't keep undressing every two seconds and especially not on a ship during a summit meeting where they'll be monitoring all the rooms. You do that there and it'll end up on the news and you'll be tainted by it forever."
Caillen wasn't worried about that. "I'll jam them."
Darling shook his head. "Take it from the weapons and explosives techspert. It ain't going to happen. You jam anything there and it'll set off all manner of alarms. Not even Syn could break in without getting busted."
Now that gave him pause. His brother-in-law could crack into anything without detection and that told him all he needed to know about his voyage to hell. "So keep it in my pants, huh?"
"Unless you want to be the next viral porno feature. I know it'll be hard--"
Caillen arched a brow at Darling's choice of words.
Darling rolled his eyes. "Your mind is alays in the gutter."
"Yeah, well, you know it's got a lot of friends it likes to play with there and I happen to like the view."
Maris made a light "heh" sound. "Give it up, Dar. You have to remember you're talking to the only man I've ever seen who can walk up to a woman he's just met and tell her he needs to have his manhood serviced and instead of getting bitch-slapped or arrested for it, gets to take her home."
Darling crossed his arms over his chest. "That's because most men have more sense than to say that out loud."
Yeah, right. Caillen knew better. "That's 'cause most men lack my boys and my skills. You may know how to handle explosives, Dar, but I know how to handle women. When it comes to the female population, I am the master."
"Please," Darling said with a laugh. "I've seen you with your sisters. You don't handle them at all. You're completely whipped."
"Totally untrue. I just let them think that. That, my friends, is the beauty of it. There's not a woman born I can't manipulate and wrap around my little finger."
Darling shook his head. "And one day you're going to meet a woman who's immune to your charms." There was an odd note in Darling's voice that said he commiserated, but since he knew Darling had never been in a serious relationship he ignored it.
"Never happen. I can even charm a baby out of her rattle and milk."
Maris chuckled. "I'm with you, Dar. I'd like to see him get some karmic paycheck, but in this I have to side with Cai. Like he said, I've seen too many women, of all ages, fall at his feet as soon as he gives them that come-here-and-strip-for-me teasing smile."
Darling refused to cede his opinion. "And I'm saying that there's always that one person who will knock you off keel. Always when you least expect it. Trust me, if Nykyrian and Syn can find women to tolerate them and their psychoses, you will too."
Caillen didn't argue because he knew better. He'd spent his entire life having to answer to his sisters for everything and having to watch after them and deal with their drama. Not to mention the one time he'd tried to be serious with a woman...
Yeah, that had taught him and killed any thoughts he might have ever had about commitment. Women were crazy.
It was why he had no interest in settling on one female. Ever. Or even letting one near him for more than the couple of hours it took to relieve a biological itch. He didn't want the trauma of it. All women wanted to domesticate the male and he was too wild for that. He didn't want kids or a wife. He just wanted to live his life on his own terms and answer to no one but himself.
Freedom. That was what he craved. He lived for the blood-pumping danger of smuggling. Flying fast. Living on the edge, one step away from death. Not even his sisters, who were the toughest females he'd ever met, could keep up with him. If they couldn't he knew there was no oe else who could.
Wanting to change the topic, he directed them back to the matter at hand that had caused him to jam the vid surveillance. "Look, you guys know I don't give two shits if I'm a flaming dork in public--which I am most of the time. My philosophy is simple. You want to be my friend, let's take a drink. You want to judge me, duck. But this isn't about me. In spite of the fact that he's an aristo, my dad seems to be a decent man and I don't want to humiliate him in front of his pretentious crew by doing something stupid like thinking the hand-washing bowl is soup and trying to eat it... again. Or breaking some other protocol I don't know about. So can you show me how to be like one of you?" That actually came out easier than he'd thought it would. He'd barely choked on his dignity.
Darling clapped him on the back. "Don't worry, brother. We'll be with you every step of the way."
Maris flashed a devilish grin. "And laughing continuously at your expense. However we do promise to keep it on the inside... most of the time."
Caillen laughed at the way Maris said that. He was lucky to have two friends he could trust. Four if he counted Nykyrian and Syn. He'd had enough people stab him in the back that he knew better than to take their loyalty for granted. There weren't many people who'd lay down their lives for someone else. But any of the four of them would do it for him.
And he'd die for them just as quickly.
Darling wagged his eyebrows at Maris. "I don't know. A flaming dork in public might be highly entertaining."
Caillen shoved at Darling who laughed as he stumbled sideways. "You're both pervs. I don't know why I hang out with you."
Darling snorted. "Probably because we're the only ones who'll hang out with you. Not to mention, I was a good innocent child unsullied by depravity until I started running with you and your crew."
Maris nodded. "I can attest to that. You guys seriously corrupted my little buddy."
Darling stiffened. "Little buddy? I sound like your pet."
Maris threw an arm around Darling. "I keep trying for that too, but you're no more game than Caillen is. I swear you should don a monk's cloak."
Caillen clapped his hands together. "And on that note, I'm going to find that cute maid I saw earlier and see if she's single." He made a double-clicking noise with his tongue as he winked at them. "See you guys later."
His thoughts already fantasizing on the maid's charms, he left them to drift down the hallway toward the conservatory where he'd last seen the petite blonde who'd given him a most salacious smile earlier.
"Come to Papa, baby." He was definitely in the mood to find some alone time with her and that feather duster she'd been using on his father's statues. There was something else hard he wanted her to tease with it.
Ad alked past the glass door that let out into the rear gardens, his senses picked up on an ephemeral disturbance. It was a small, subtle smear on one pane. Most people wouldn't pay it any heed, but then most people weren't used to scrounging for survival and having to guard their backs every moment they breathed.
It shouldn't be there.
Caillen frowned. The maids had been in here this morning cleaning everything t
horoughly...
He pulled back the curtain to look at the electronic lock. It'd been deactivated and left slightly ajar for a quick exit.
Yeah, someone was in here who shouldn't be.
That calm, dead cold came over him as he went into soldier mode. He knew the perp hadn't gone toward the study where he'd been. The other direction led to his father's private wing.
C'mon, Cai. Don't be ridiculous. There's security all over the place. One of them could have been doing rounds and touched the pane.
Yeah, but when you'd grown up with people who broke into places like this to kill and rob its occupants, you knew just how worthless that security was. Alarms were only for the honest. Professional assassins and thieves picked their teeth with them.
Better safe than sorry...
He followed the wide ornate hallway that was lined with state portraits of ancestors he couldn't keep track of, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The white walls and floors glistened to such an extent, he could see his black clothes outlined like a mirror. The scent of the myriad of fresh flowers draping from elaborate bronze vases hung in his nostrils.
You're being stupid. There's nothing here. Just an overactive imagination fueled by gross paranoia.
He was outside his father's bedroom and about to go find his maid after all when he heard something fall.
A second later, his father called out for help.
5
Caillen tried the door. It was locked. He could hear them fighting on the other side as his father called for security. Grinding his teeth, he kicked the door open. His foot stung from the impact as the door slammed back against the wall with a resounding crash. The force of his strike caused the door to leave its hinges and clatter against the checkered black-and-white marble floor.
Inside, a masked assassin had his father against the wall as they fought.
Without hesitation, Caillen shot across the distance and grabbed the assassin from behind. The assassin turned on him with a curse and slashed out at him with a dagger.
Caillen jumped back and caught his wrist as the assassin tried to stab him. With a quick glance down at their entwined hands, he curled his lip. He knew the black-bladed dagger well. A League weapon, the blade was coated with a toxin so potent one scratch would kill him. Head butting the assassin, he made sure to keep his hand locked on the man's wrist and the blade away from his skin.
Born of Shadows Page 4
