Dancing with a Prince (Matchmakers in Time Book 3)

by Kit Morgan

  “My pleasure,” he said with a smile. He looked and sounded like a young Jim Carrey only with graying hair.

  She headed for her car, her stomach tying in knots. She hated disappointing her father. When her mom and dad started having trouble when she was in high school, she poured herself into her studies. They had enough problems without her having to worry about them too. Unfortunately, they divorced four years ago. She supposed if she’d been a little kid, things would have been a lot harder on her – at seventeen, not so much. But when Mom moved to Hawaii, that was a blow – that, and she’d moved there with her new boyfriend not six months after the divorce was final. Mitzi had hardly seen her since. That had been a big disappointment to both her and Dad. She didn’t want to give him another disappointment but couldn’t give up her dream of becoming a cop either.

  She got into her little blue Honda Civic, started it up and blasted the air conditioner. As she pulled out of the parking lot, she noticed Mr. Thin climb into the back of a white Mercedes-Benz Metris van. Maybe she should have tried to guess his occupation instead of the Scot and his wife’s. She didn’t score diddly on them. She bet Albert would try again and wave his little notebook in front of her when she next showed up for work. He’d be nipping at her heels. If for some reason he passed her …

  She groaned and headed for the freeway. It would just figure if he did. Then she’d start second-guessing herself, and she couldn’t afford that now. She had a keen eye for observation, always had. It was one of the qualities she deemed necessary for being a good police officer. She also had a strong sense of right and wrong, protective instincts and an uncanny sense of when someone was lying. But if Albert beat her …

  She shook her head as she drove. “You’re letting this get to you. So what if Albert gets a few points ahead? It’s not like you can’t catch up. Besides, if I can’t guess what the Scottish guy does for a living, he probably won’t be able to either.” She sighed. “I hope.”

  Mitzi reached her exit and continued toward home, trying not to fret over the lecture waiting for her when she got there.

  Chapter Two

  “Well, did you take care of her car?” Lany Mosgofian asked.

  Melvale turned in his seat in the van and smiled.

  “Living stars, take off those ridiculous sunglasses. We’re supposed to be working, not impersonating … what’s that piano player’s name?”

  “Elton John, and I am working.” Melvale took off his expensive spangled shades, admired them, then put them back on. “I placed the tracking device exactly where the instructions said.”

  “Give me that box.” Lany reached for a small rectangle on the dashboard. The van was equipped with everything one could imagine for spying, much to Melvale’s delight. The Muiraran was a James Bond fanatic, and loved anything to do with spies, covert operations and extracting “targets,” as he called them. In this case, the target was Mitzi Ann Fine, whom they needed to extract from the 21st century and drop into the 19th so she would meet and (fingers crossed) fall in love with Prince Asger Berg of Dalrovia.

  Lany read the directions. “Make sure device is on. Press onto a cool dry surface. Make sure device adheres or it will fall off in transit …” He shook his head. “Melvale, where did you get this?”

  “Oh, let me see. From a catalogue in the year … what was it now … 2036?”

  “Catalogue? I don’t think they have those that late in the century.”

  “A digital catalogue, obviously. Anyone can order that sort of thing off the internet after 2029 or so. Privacy was considered passé, for the most part.”

  Lany tossed the box on the console and looked at the odd screen Melvale was watching. “Where is she now?”

  “Heading home, from the look of it. What did you find out?”

  “She got a new job.”

  “What? But our sources say she’s had this one for quite some time. Perhaps it’s with the casino mentioned in the report we have. I knew we weren’t in the exact location we needed to be.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, and she wasn’t scheduled to work today. We were lucky she showed up.”

  “What!” Melvale grabbed a nearby clipboard and flipped through the papers. “Oh dear, you’re right. How did I miss that?”

  Lany shrugged. “It happens. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  Melvale didn’t say a word, just put the clipboard back and watched the screen, which contained a map of the city. A little red dot moved down one street, turned onto another.

  “Er, Melvale. Where exactly did you get all this stuff?”

  Melvale smiled. “Oh, here and there. I thought it would come in handy for this assignment. Beats having to rely on my brother, does it not?”

  “Markhel is the finest ranger in the Muiraran kingdom,” Lany pointed out.

  “Yes, but who knows when he might receive a Call? Then what would we do?”

  Lany smiled. Melvale and his brother were well past the usual age of joining, but both had been born with … a sort of heart defect. Muirarans usually had two hearts, outer and inner, with the inner one resonating with their eventual mate, enabling them to bond far closer than humans could. Melvale and Markhel, though, had had three, keeping them from bonding and almost killing them.

  Their condition had been remedied during Dallan and Shona’s first assignment months ago, and since then they’d been recovering. Melvale seemed good as new most of the time, but his powerful attention to detail sometimes wavered. Markhel appeared to be all right and had been helping Dallan, the current Time Master, recruit people to search for humans with a particular Muiraran bloodline that made them compatible with either another human/Muiraran mix or a full-blooded Muiraran.

  It was their only hope of correcting the horrible wrongs done by ex-Time Master Philip Brennan. Brennan’s heart had become corrupted, turning him into a power-hungry, sadistic madman. He’d murdered numerous compatible humans and Muirarans, until Dallan tossed him (quite literally) into another time and place where he could do no more harm. He was thought dead.

  But how could they be sure? And why had he been trying to wipe out certain Muiraran bloodlines to begin with? Possibly to make sure there was never another Time Master, ever. But it was a puzzle they were still trying to solve.

  The side door of the van opened and Dallan helped Shona in. “I still can’t get over all the gadgets in this thing,” she said. “It’s like something out of a movie.”

  “I dare say it is, Princess.” Melvale grinned. “I designed it myself.”

  “After watching how many movies?” Lany muttered.

  “Do not ask questions you do not want the answers to.” Melvale pointed at the screen. “She just arrived home.”

  Dallan stood outside the van and watched. “She’s a wee thing.”

  “Yes,” Lany agreed. “Even smaller than Shona.”

  “To Prince Asger it will matter not,” Melvale said. “Especially once they start bonding.”

  “Dinna sound so sure,” Dallan said. “First we have to get her there.”

  “That’s the easy part,” Melvale said. “So long as you have a plan.”

  “I did have a plan, but after speaking with the lad that served us in yon shop, she won’t be around much longer.”

  “Told you,” Lany said.

  “Yes, the Lord Councilor has informed me.” Melvale flipped a few switches then turned to face Dallan. “Do get into the van, Time Master.”

  Dallan sighed and reluctantly climbed in. “Someone open the windows.”

  “Then all the cool air will escape,” Melvale argued. “Sit in the front where you can see everything.”

  Dallan didn’t hesitate taking the front seat – easier on his claustrophobia. He looked around. “Where’s Archer?”

  “You have to ask?” Melvale grumbled, pointing to a fast-food place across the street.

  Everyone looked in time to see Archer, a half-Muiraran, half-human they’d picked up months ago while on a rescue missi
on, heading toward them, his arms loaded with bags of food. “Oh, good,” Shona said. “I hope he got cheeseburgers.”

  “I hope he’ll clean up the mess he makes.” Melvale turned back to the screen. “How the Muiraran half of his heart feeds off eating everything in sight is beyond comprehension.”

  “I’m glad mine doesn’t have to be fed that way,” Shona commented.

  Lany smiled. “I wonder if I were Muiraran, what my second heart would feed off of.”

  Melvale giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Lany asked.

  “That you’ve wondered such a thing in the first place.”

  “Stop it, ye two,” Dallan said. “We’ve got work to do, remember?”

  Archer reached the van, opened the door and dumped the bags inside. “What a wait that was!” He looked at Shona and smiled. “I got you two cheeseburgers.”

  “Yum!”

  “Concentrate,” Melvale scolded. “I need details. What’s this about Miss Fine getting a new job?”

  “From what I overheard, she got herself a job as a security guard somewhere,” Lany explained. “It also sounds like she’ll be starting at the police academy soon.”

  “Police?” Dallan said in surprise. “That wee thing?”

  Melvale nodded. “That ‘wee thing,’ as you call her, Time Master, has a brown belt in judo, jiujitsu and …” He flipped a few pages on his clipboard. “… is studying Muay Thai.”

  “What’s that?” Shona said. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “A fascinating martial arts style,” Melvale said. “I recommend you look into it. Perhaps we could find an instructor …”

  “And then what?” Dallan said. “Abduct the man and whisk him off to Mishna to be her new teacher?”

  Shona sighed. “He’s right – we need to focus on our assignment. But first …” She held out her hand to Archer, who slapped a wrapped cheeseburger into it.

  “What about the prince?” Archer asked. “How’s he doing?” He stuffed his mouth full of French fries and reached for a burger. “Anywon elff wamt won?”

  Lany held out his hand. “Yes, Melvale, you haven’t said much about Asger Berg. Come to think of it, you haven’t mentioned anything about Madeleina or Andel either.”

  Melvale faced the console again. “I’ll get to the queen and prince consort. First let’s concentrate on Mitzi Fine, hm?”

  “We need a new plan,” Dallan rubbed his chin. “Blast, I thought she was supposed to be working in a casino. Maybe we should’ve shown up at a later date – she isn’t that far along yet.” He looked at Lany. “Find out where her new job is. With any luck, we can work this to our advantage.”

  “How so? Your plan was to offer her a job working in your ‘new chain of coffee shops’.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “Now what’ll you tempt her with? A job as your bodyguard?”

  “Very funny.” Dallan thought a moment, then his face brightened. “Nae, we’ll do something else.” He smiled at Lany.

  Lany’s eyebrows rose in alarm. “I don’t like that look.”

  Dallan’s smile broadened.

  “I like it even less.”

  “Dallan,” Shona said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “D’ye no see it, Flower? She’s trained as a warrior, a protector. She might be a wee thing, but I’ll wager she can fight. We just need to give her something to fight for.”

  “Like what?” Archer asked between mouthfuls.

  Dallan smiled again. “If the wee lassie wants to be a policeman …”

  “Policewoman,” Shona corrected.

  “Law enforcement officer,” Lany suggested.

  Dallan waved them off. “… let’s give her the chance.”

  “How?” Lany asked. “Find her someone she can arrest?”

  Dallan grinned again.

  Lany noticed everyone looking at him. “Please, no …”

  “If she thinks Master Lany here’s a villain of some kind and gives chase …”

  Lany groaned. “That’s a horrible idea.”

  “It’s brilliant,” Melvale enthused.

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “Think about it,” Melvale continued. “If she thinks you have just stolen something, runs after you and happens to chase you right into the kingdom of Dalrovia …”

  “… she’ll think she’s been drugged,” Lany finished.

  “No, she will not,” Melvale said as he reached for his clipboard. “It says right here she does not use ‘recreational drugs,’ as they say in this decade.”

  Lany groaned. “She’s seen me. Why not use Archer? He’s faster.”

  Archer smiled, his mouth full of food.

  “He’s also too easily distracted,” Dallan said.

  “So you want her to chase Lany down a dark alley and into Dalrovia?” Shona clarified. She scratched her head. “I’m sorry, but I have to agree with Lany.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “Horrible idea.”

  “The Wizard of Oz,” Melvale stated.

  “Who’s that?” Archer asked.

  Shona sighed. “It’s a movie. One of the early ones.”

  “In it, the heroine is whisked away to a far-off land by a tornado,” Melvale said happily. “She lands in a magical place, makes some new friends …”

  “… And finds the wizard who sends her right back where she started from,” Shona said. “I see the analogy, but I don’t think that’ll work.”

  “Well, really,” Melvale huffed. “Whether you lure her into some job making coffee or use the Lord Councilor as a lure makes no difference to me. But considering her job change, I’d say go with the lure. Either course, she’s still waking up in a different century and a different country.”

  Lany’s eyes were huge as he looked around at the small company. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Aye, ye’ll do it,” Dallan said. “We’re running out of time. Find out where this new job of hers is and we’ll go from there.”

  Lany sighed. “Great.” How did he always get sucked into these things?

  “What were you thinking?” Mitzi’s father cried. “Are you out of your mind?”

  Mitzi sat, listened and wished she could be anywhere else. Her father was protective, brave, decisive. But once he made up his mind, Semtex wouldn’t shift him. And right now, he’d made up his mind that her becoming an armed guard at a small casino was a bad idea.

  “Your job at Java King has been fine. There’s nothing wrong with it, and it works great with a class schedule. Why on Earth would you want to become an armed guard? Which by the way, takes a while to get the certificate for. How long has this been going on?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I start work tomorrow night.”

  He facepalmed.

  “Look, Dad, I know you don’t approve. You think my size is a detriment …”

  “It is,” he pointed out.

  “… but I can do this. So what if I’m short? I can still kick a big man’s ass.”

  “Language!”

  She rolled her eyes. “The point is, I’m ready for this. Think of the armed guard gig as a warm-up to academy.”

  He facepalmed again and groaned. “You just don’t get it, Mitz.”

  “I do get it. You’re just old-fashioned.”

  He stared at her, his jaw tight. “Very well. Since you’re being so stubborn about this, go ahead. Join the academy – if you can.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a challenge?”

  He left his La-Z-Boy. “I’d be shocked if you got accepted. You may have passed the preliminary tests, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get in.”

  She fought the urge to glare at him. Why did he have to be so discouraging? “I’ll get in, you’ll see.” She left the sofa and headed for the kitchen. She needed some water, juice, something after this discussion. She’d just turned 22, needed only a few more credits for her Bachelor’s degree in psychology, and her father probably thought she was chucking it all for some pipe dream. But why not
become a cop? He was one and had loved every minute of it. Why did he have to gripe about her dream? Was it because he wouldn’t be around to protect her?

  She sighed and popped open a can of cream soda. Once she got through academy and got hired on, she’d have to get her own apartment. She didn’t mind living at home while attending UNLV, but as soon as she was done, she’d planned to move out anyway. Once she got a decent job, of course. And wasn’t being a cop a decent job? She had the heart for it. She just didn’t …

  No, she wasn’t going to start on that line of thinking – she’d be siding with her father! Yeah, she was all of 4’11”, 110 pounds soaking wet and looked like a blonde, blue-eyed pixie. The only things she lacked were the wings and the Tinkerbell haircut. Hmm, maybe she ought to chop off her shoulder-length locks and get one.

  Mitzi retreated to the back patio and sat in a lawn chair. “Captain John Fine,” she whispered. She was used to hearing her father called that. “Captain Mitzi Fine.” She smiled, sat back and closed her eyes. “Of course, it will have to be Officer Fine first, then corporal, sergeant, lieutenant, captain … and who knows, deputy chief of police?” She giggled. Why not dream big? “Chief Mitzi Fine.”

  She put her feet on another chair, took a swig of soda and let her mind relax. She wouldn’t let her dad get to her, no sir. She had a dream and by golly, she’d follow it.

  Yet something gnawed at her, something she couldn’t put her finger on. Usually when she thought of becoming a cop, she got a surge of excitement and energy. But lately there was an … emptiness? Why would that be? Was it the thought of leaving her dad alone? For the last few years it was just the two of them. They’d become a team, learned to take care of whatever came their way and dealt with it together. Was she feeling guilty? She didn’t think so. So what was it? It didn’t make sense.

  She opened her eyes, feeling her heart climb into her throat. Her dad thought her becoming a cop was a bad idea – had he ever steered her wrong?