The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1)

by Banks, Evie

  If the situation hadn’t been so desperate, Renee would have laughed because Pyro didn’t look like the type to own a Prius. Instead she nodded and followed him out of the bar.

  Villain followed on their heels. “You’ll be needing an escort.”

  Renee didn’t think that was necessary, but could hardly say so given the determined set of his mouth and the fact that the entire bar seemed to have joined him and were busy zipping up coats and strapping on black helmets.

  Renee slid into the Prius beside Pyro, whose stomach pressed against the steering wheel.

  “So, uh, what do you do for a living, Pyro?” asked Renee.

  “Dentist.”

  He started the car and Renee worried that the small wheels would get stuck in the snow, but he maneuvered the vehicle around the shack and onto the lane without difficulty. Behind them was the sound of forty motorcycles roaring to life. Renee directed Pyro back to the barn and they were there in minutes. Cassandra ran outside and Renee jumped out of the car before it had come to a full stop, sweeping her up in her arms, deliriously grateful to be holding her again and to know that they were saved. Renee released her grip and ran into the barn to Chase. His eyelids were closed lightly as if he had just fallen asleep.

  She bent over him and whispered, “Chase, we’re going to get you to a hospital. You’re going to be alright.”

  His eyes fluttered open and he gave a wan smile. His lips were colorless and when he spoke Renee had to lean forward to catch his words. “You’ve brought reinforcements, I see.” Behind her were the black clad Villain and the hulking Pyro, as well as the bikers who were arrayed near the entrance of the barn. A single hysterical sob of happiness escaped from Renee’s throat to hear him speak again. He was going to be ok.

  Villain grasped Chase under the arms while Pyro lifted the legs and together they gently picked him up and carried him to the Prius, putting him in as delicately as possible. Renee kept the scarf pressed to his wound in case it started bleeding again.

  “The closest hospital is fifteen miles away in Gloucester,” said Villain.

  “That’s a relief. Can you get me and Cassandra to London? The Coronation is in a few hours.”

  Villain yelled over his shoulder. “Oy, Peggy, give the kid your jacket and lend the Queen your bike. You can go with Pyro to the hospital.”

  A woman with ragged hair and stars tattooed down her neck looked mutinously at Renee, but climbed off her bike. She shrugged out of her wool lined leather jacket, tossed it to Cassandra, and got into the Prius with Pyro. Renee watched them drive off and prayed for Chase’s safety.

  Renee quickly ran back in to retrieve George Shireman’s antique pistol. She didn’t want to lose this.

  “Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?” asked Villain when she returned.

  Renee smiled. She walked over the bike recently vacated by Peggy, swung her leg over it and kicked it into life. She squeezed the throttle and let it settle into the dull purr that was comforting in its familiarity. It felt good to be on a motorcycle again. Villain looked impressed. “All right, then,” he said and he straddled his own bike and pulled Cassandra on behind him. “Hold tight.” Everyone followed suit and the din of engines gave her new courage.

  She shouted above the noise. “Anybody who rides the speed limit will be arrested. Ride like hell to the Coronation. That’s an order of your Queen!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  RENEE GLANCED OVER at Cassandra who was holding on for dear life to Villain. “We’re almost there, baby,” mouthed Renee. Cassandra pressed her cheek into Villain’s back. Her face was drawn and exhausted.

  Renee and Villain rode at the head of forty ear-shattering motorcycles. Terrified motorists found themselves surrounded by Harleys and quickly left behind as they roared down the M4 towards London. Renee spied the turnoff for Windsor and knew they were almost there. They might just make it. They slowed slightly as they entered the city and the M4 gave way to the A4. While they idled at a light, Renee used Villain’s phone to call Audrey.

  “Renee, is that you? Good Christ, the army has been called up! They’ve got helicopters. No one knew if you were even alive until we got Chase’s phone call from the hospital. Is Cassandra with you?” Audrey sounded hysterical.

  “We’re fine. We’re on the way. Is Roberts with you? I need to speak with him.”

  Renee could hear Audrey speaking quickly as she handed the phone to Roberts.

  “Ma’am—”

  “We’re fine,” said Renee, cutting him off before he could begin apologizing. “We’re just entering London now.”

  The light turned green and cars behind them started to honk their horns. Five bikers got off their bikes and squinted into the windows of the offending vehicles, baring their teeth. The honking ceased.

  “But we’re live on television in five minutes! It will take longer than that for you to reach the Palace and prepare.”

  “There’s no time for me to go to the Palace. I’ll meet you at the Abbey. Tell Audrey to bring the dresses and some make up. I’ll have to change in the ladies room.”

  “The ladies room?” said Roberts, weakly. “But the coronation procession! The escorts! The heads of state and guards of honor! The bagpipers! It’s all been planned out. And you not in a carriage for your people to see?”

  “Oh, they’ll see me, all right,” said Renee. “Ok, fine. We’ll swing by the Palace, but I’m not stopping. Tell the procession to get started. Just be ready.”

  Renee couldn’t tell if Roberts sounded more upset because of what had happened to her and Cassandra or because his precious schedule was about to be upended. In the meantime the light had turned red and then back to green again.

  “Buckingham Palace,” shouted Renee over the noise.

  Villain’s eyes widened, but he nodded and let her lead.

  Pedestrians jumped out of crosswalks and flattened themselves against buildings as the gang rode past. Sometimes Renee saw recognition pass over their surprised faces as she went by. The number of people and the amount of traffic increased the closer they got to the Palace and when they made the turn past Wellington’s Arch, they were forced to ride so slowly Renee nearly had to put her foot on the ground to keep her balance. Both sides of the avenue were lined with lawn chairs and people four deep. Renee tried to sit as straight and queenly as she could and out of the corner of her eye she saw Villain straighten up as well and smooth out his beard. The slight breeze, ice cold, scalded her face and lifted her hair. She looked neither left nor right and the crowd, first shocked by the appearance of a rough biker gang, began cheering as it dawned on them who was leading it.

  They rumbled into the courtyard of Buckingham Palace. Soldiers representing the various branches of the armed forces, as well as the countries of the Commonwealth waited in formation. The Texas Rangers looked magnificent mounted on their horses, pistols holstered on their hips and Texan and American flags fluttering in the wind. The horses grew skittish from the noise of the motorcycles.

  Renee saw Roberts and Audrey and Leanne waiting by the entrance. Roberts’s mouth fell open. Audrey’s arms were spilling over with satin and crinoline, and Leanne carried what looked like a large black brief case. Renee shouted as she slowed, but didn’t stop. “Get in the carriage! Meet me at the abbey!”

  Roberts tossed his clipboard in the air.

  She revved the engine and charged forward out of the courtyard and the forty motorcycles followed suit, but the sudden increase in noise disturbed the horses, causing some of them to rear up on their hind legs. The Rangers struggled to regain control, but the horses threw their heads back and whinnied and when one of them took off after the last of the motorcycles, the rest of the Rangers took this as their cue to proceed.

  When Renee glanced backwards, she laughed out loud to find that her gang of bikers was being followed by a gang of cowboys. This would be the most unorthodox royal parade in history. The crowd, however, was delighted. The applause that met them the enti
re length of the route to Westminster was deafening. Boys hung off of lampposts and waved their hats and flags and anything else that was handy. She felt like she was rolling through a sea of blue and red.

  Royal guards lined the entrance to Westminster and the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was dressed in full regalia, nearly lost his hat when Renee rolled to a stop, pushed down the kickstand with her boot heel, and swung her leg over the bike. Cassandra let go of Villain and hopped off.

  Renee went up to Villain, whose face had gone very red. Despite his ferocious appearance, he suddenly looked very nervous and bashful. His eyes went side to side taking in the millions of people.

  “Thank you for seeing me and my daughter safely here. You will always have my gratitude and I hope you will join us in the celebrations following.”

  Villain nodded and Cassandra surprised him by suddenly throwing her arms around his beefy neck to hug him. When she let go he revved his engine and the entire gang made a big show of following suit. A biker’s chick climbed off the back of one of the motorcycles and got on the bike Renee had borrowed from Peggy. The gang rode away in a roar of thunder. The Texas Rangers touched the rims of their cowboy hats as they passed. Renee nodded her acknowledgment of their salute. Following the Rangers was the royal carriage. Roberts, Audrey, and Leanne tumbled out. In the distance Renee could hear the bagpipers and see blocks of military color moving down the avenue.

  Renee took Cassandra’s hand. “Child.”

  “Mother.”

  “Ready?” asked Renee.

  “I think so.”

  Together they walked past the guards in Elizabethan costumes who snapped to attention as they passed, and into the Abbey. The choir burst into song and it filled the soaring heights of the Abbey. Renee had to pause a moment to take it all in and then quickly closed her eyes and let Cassandra and the Archbishop lead her into a side chamber. It was too much. The pews filled with dignitaries, the choir of boys whose voices pierced like angels, and the space itself, which contained so much history she could never fully grasp it, the aisle leading to the Coronation Stone upon which every monarch of England since Edward I had sat to receive the crown. And now it would receive her, Renee Krebs of tiny Farland, Texas, waitress and mother. Her knees threatened to give way so she rushed to a cabinet which held bottles of communion wine, popped the cork, and guzzled the wine straight from the bottle.

  The Archbishop closed the door of the side chamber after everyone had entered. “Quite right. I often have a nip for courage right before a big sermon. Christmas and Easter are the big ones. The congregants want fireworks and emotion and old ideas expressed in a new way. It takes a couple of glasses to go really deep, if you see what I mean.” He continued rambling, but Renee couldn’t follow it.

  “I can’t do this,” said Renee when she came up for air.

  “Well it’s a little late to change your mind now,” said the Archbishop, checking his watch. “The ceremony starts in three minutes. I’ll see you at the chopping block.”

  “That’s not funny!” called Renee as his robes swished out of sight.

  Audrey draped the satin dresses over a chair. “Let’s get you out of those clothes. Goodness, you’re a sight. Did you camp in a pig’s pen?” She stripped off the leather coat and started to pull off her filthy shirt.

  “Er, should I step outside a moment?” said Roberts, adjusting his tie.

  “Just turn around!” barked Audrey. “Surely you’ve seen a bosom before, a man of your age?”

  Roberts flushed and turned to face a wall that had a tapestry. “I do not discuss bosoms. You’ve got two minutes.”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” muttered Audrey. “What the bloody hell is this?”

  Renee looked down to see what Audrey was staring at. The hilt of the ancient pistol was sticking out of Renee’s jeans. She plunked it on the table and continued to undress. “It’s my gun.”

  “I see that, but where did you get it?”

  “Long story.”

  Renee pulled off her boots and they landed with a thunk where she threw them. She wriggled out of her jeans and instantly rethought the wisdom of that as it was the middle of winter and the stone church was cold and drafty.

  The door opened suddenly causing Renee to jump behind Audrey and Leanne, who created a privacy wall for her. Two security members entered, gripping a man between them.

  “What is the meaning of this? We’ve got a ceremony to complete in just moments!” thundered Roberts.

  “Oh, do excuse us, Ma’am, but we felt this needed your immediate attention,” said the first security man, staring at the ceiling and biting his cheek in an effort not to look at the semi-naked Renee.

  “What could possibly—” said Roberts.

  The second security man pushed the grungy looking man forward.

  “Looking good, Babe.”

  “Ray!”

  Renee shouldered past her mother and Audrey, all thoughts of modesty gone. The two enormous security men stared at their shoes, their fingernails, the light fixture, anywhere except forward to where Renee was standing in her bra and panties, hand on hip.

  “I should’ve known you’d weasel your way back here.”

  Ray leered. “How could you forget to invite the Queen’s husband? There’s still time to make a deal. Otherwise you’ll be stuck with me forever. I haven’t decided which palace I’d like. St. James, maybe. It’s just down the street. We’ll be cozy neighbors! Or maybe I’ll choose to move in with you. You are my lawful wife, after all.” He drew his finger along her bra strap.

  Renee slapped his hand away. “Prove it. Let me see the divorce papers.”

  Ray took out the folded bundle of papers and smoothed them out on the table. “You ready to deal?”

  Renee took in a deep breath. If she didn’t do something now, Ray would officially be the Queen’s Consort with all of the privileges the title entailed. A royal divorce would be messy and very public. “Yes, I’m ready to deal.”

  “Your Majesty!” said Roberts. “No!” said Audrey. “Sugar, think about what you’re doing,” said Leanne.

  Renee held up her hand to silence them. “I have thought about it. This is the only way.”

  Ray grinned.

  Renee reached behind her and felt for the pistol. “We need to end this now.”

  “Atta girl. I knew you’d see reason,” said Ray. He selected a chair and sat back. “What’s the deal?”

  Renee charged forward, knocked Ray back in his seat and shoved the pistol into his groin. “The deal is I’ll let you walk out of here with both testicles if you sign the divorce papers.”

  Ray turned white.

  “You wouldn’t. That would be bad press,” said Ray, grimacing as Renee applied more pressure, pinning him to the chair. They were nearly nose to nose.

  “Wouldn’t I? I’ve already shot one person today. I’ve been kidnapped, strangled, terrified, frozen, stared down an entire biker gang and then rode like a demon of Hell to get here today. I haven’t had a cigarette in three weeks and to top it all off, I HAVEN’T HAD ANY COFFEE TODAY! So go ahead, Ray. Give me a reason to pull this trigger. I’ll spear your crown jewels on the points of my tiara and give it to you as a keepsake”—the beefy security guys winced—“or you can take my deal, sign that goddamn piece of paper and get your sorry ass out of this fine church, out of this country, and out of my life. What’s it going to be, Ray? Are you going to take my deal?”

  Renee pulled back the hammer of the pistol. “Well?”

  Perhaps it was the pain shooting into his stomach or maybe it was the crazed look in Renee’s eyes, but Ray nodded. His face was turning purple.

  “Good. Sign it!” Renee didn’t ease up.

  Roberts put a pen into Ray’s clenched hand and he managed to scrawl his name on the line.

  “Oh, God, just get off me,” pleaded Ray.

  Renee leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “If I ever catch word of you entering this country again or going after my as
sets, I’ll give the secret services permission to disappear you. Do you understand me?”

  Ray nodded, his eyes squinted shut in pain.

  Renee stood up and Ray immediately gasped and fell out of his chair, clutching his nether regions.

  “Get this bastard out of here and on the first plane back to the rest of his sorry life,” said Renee.

  The stunned security men hauled the whimpering Ray to his feet and dragged him out.

  After the door closed Roberts cleared his throat.

  “Ma’am”—

  “Not now, Roberts. I just need a minute.” Renee pulled the trigger and the hammer fell. It was out of bullets just as she had known it was. She put the gun down and leaned heavily on the table, her pulse racing.

  “Ma’am I just wanted to say that considering what you’ve been through in the last twelve hours, that was the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. I’m very proud of you.”

  Renee buried her face in Roberts’s chest and sobbed. “I’m a wreck.”

  Roberts hugged her back. “It will be ok,” he soothed.

  Just then the Archbishop stuck his head in the door.

  “We’re almost to the end of the preamble. All ready?” The smile slipped from his face when he saw the half-naked Renee in Roberts’s embrace. “Heavens me, so sorry. Should I come back later at a more appropriate time?”

  Robert’s arms dropped to his side and Renee jumped backwards. “We’re almost ready. Just keep them singing!”

  “You’ve got three rounds of Gloria and then you’re on.” The Archbishop winked at Roberts and disappeared again.

  Audrey and Leanne immediately began their attack. Leanne dipped a towel in a font of holy water and began scrubbing Renee’s face, and Audrey yanked a hairbrush through Renee’s tangled, windblown hair. “Ouch!”

  “I can’t get this dirt off,” said Leanne, scrubbing mercilessly at Renee’s forehead.

  “And I can’t style her hair like this,” said Audrey.

  Leanne snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. Everybody out of the way!” She picked up the basin of holy water and tipped it over Renee’s head. Renee sputtered and shivered from the cold drenching.