Claimed & Seduced (21 page)

“Stop.” She lifted her blaster. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

“Put your weapon down,” Ellard commanded and took a step closer.

The woman squeezed the trigger, and Ellard dropped like a rock.

Keira threw her knife at the same time as Jarlath fired his weapon. The woman fell, her blaster clattering onto the floor.

Keira kicked the woman’s weapon away before she crouched to check her status and retrieve her knife. “She’s dead. How’s Ellard?”

“His arm is bleeding like a stuck boar-pig,” Jarlath said with urgency. “Can you see if there is a medical kit around here?”

Ellard moaned and thrashed.

“Steady.” Jarlath kept pressure on Ellard’s arm and placed his other hand on his friend’s chest. His touch seeming to soothe Ellard.

Keira scanned the room, and when she didn’t see a medi-kit, she checked the cupboards. Nothing. She spied a doorway and found a small kitchenette with a chillbox and cookbox—both ancient models—plus a basic replicator, another early version with known bugs. Ah, a medical kit. She grabbed it and hurried to Jarlath and prayed it held the requisite items, given the other old technology available at the guard station.

“Is there a blood stopper?”

She rifled through the contents and pulled out a syringe plus coagulant spray. Her first real glance at Ellard’s arm deepened her concern. “That doesn’t look good.”

Jarlath cast a concerned glance at Ellard. “He’s gonna lose his arm. I doubt even shifting will fix this.”

“We’ll try,” Keira said.

Ellard groaned, his cry one of severe pain.

“Steady, my friend. Steady. Is there a knock-out drug or at least some type of painkiller?”

“It’s a basic kit. We’ll have to take him to the medical center. I’ll find transport.” She shot to her feet and was halfway to the door when Jarlath spoke.

“Keira.”

“Yes?”

“Be careful. I’d hate for something to happen to you.”

Warmth filled her as their gazes met and held. So much said with one look. Everything inside her went soft and feminine. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She raced into the street, pulled out her blaster, ready to fire if the need arose. The street was deserted. She skirted rubble from neighboring buildings, keeping her eyes peeled. The soldiers must have transport. Hushed voices drifted to her, and she circled a drunken building to find two male youths attempting to hotwire a flymo several buildings down from the soldiers’ base. Excellent.

“You! Hands above your head,” she ordered.

“Find yer own,” one of the youths said, his red skin and thick dreads marking him as Red Mumber. “This be our vehicle.”

His skinny friend nudged him. “She got weapon.”

“I’ll do a deal,” Keira said, focusing on the Red Mumber since he seemed the most dangerous. The other youth was small and wiry, no trouble for her to deal with on her own. “You hotwire this vehicle and take me and my friends to the medical center, and I’ll let you both leave with the vehicle and a cash reward.”

“Currency?” the Red Mumber asked.

“If you want.” Keira said.

“How we know you trustworthy?” The Red Mumber’s deep brown eyes glittered with suspicion.

“You don’t,” Keira said. “All you have is my word.”

The youth considered her for a long drawn-out moment. “I know you. Seen you in market. You don’t pay, I find.”

“Agreed,” Keira said. “Would you like me to show you how to hotwire? I have the knack. My mother taught me.”

“You know how?” The Red Mumber’s red-brown brows rose, broadcasting doubt.

“Yes.” Deciding to take a chance, she holstered her weapon and entered the transport. Seconds later the hum of the flymo highlighted her expertise.

“Sweet,” the second youth said.

The Red Mumber glanced left then right. “Where your friends?”

“Fly around to the front of the soldiers’ base. We might need your help. The injured man is big.”

“Cat?” the Red Mumber asked.

“Yes, but he’s too injured to shift.”

“I come with,” the Red Mumber said. “Nasir will bring flymo to the door front.”

“Thanks,” Keira said and hustled back in the direction she’d come with the Red Mumber youth on her heels. She leaped over a pile of masonry without breaking stride and pushed through the door of the soldiers’ base.

“I’m back,” Keira called. “I’ve brought help.”

“This be Ellard,” the Red Mumber said, turning his accusing gaze on her then sharing his disquiet with Jarlath. “He important.”

“He’s my friend,” Jarlath said. “What’s your name?”

“Ollie,” the Red Mumber said.

“How is he?” Keira asked.

“He’s passed out from the pain. A blessing.” Jarlath rubbed his eyes and stood, his posture slumped. “I’ve stopped the bleeding but the blaster fire has disintegrated the bone. I’ve done all I can. He needs a healer.”

“I help carry to flymo. Nasir out front now. Waiting,” Ollie said.

A shout sounded outside.

Keira stiffened. “I’ll go and make sure no one steals our transport.”

The shouts were closer now, propelling her to speed. She burst from the office, blaster raised to fire.

“It’s some of those dudes in red cloaks,” Nasir whispered. “This not good. Saw some blow up. They be walkin’ bombs.”

“Get ready to take off. The others are coming.” Keira watched uneasily as the men in red marched closer.

Jarlath and Ollie appeared, the two struggling with Ellard’s weight. Keira hurried to help.

A chill wind tugged at her hair, at her cloak and fear rushed to the fore. “Quick. A storm is coming.” A rush of rain had swept over earlier, when the last explosions occurred. Coincidence? She didn’t think so.

The men in red advanced, their robes blowing back to reveal the uniform of Viros soldiers. Keira gasped. She didn’t know how Razvan had managed to turn loyal men to his cause. The rain came closer and the wind whipped her hair and the hem of her cloak. Hard drops of rain stung her cheeks. Sparks started to flash off the men in red.

“Hurry,” she shouted.

They managed to half-drag and lift Ellard into the flymo and scrambled after him. Nasir sent the flymo into a vertical lift, rising so fast her stomach remained on the ground. She gulped and Jarlath’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“We’ll make it,” he whispered against her ear.

“I feel as if I have bruises on bruises. Every bone in my body is throbbing.” She glanced at Ellard’s pale, still body and winced. “Sorry. I shouldn’t complain when others have it worse than me.”

Jarlath kissed her temple, the kiss as soft as his fur. “It’s been some day. Most women of my acquaintance would moan about the state of their hair, the ones who didn’t faint.”

“You don’t know the right women.”

“I do now,” he whispered.

She held the compliment close to her heart, his personal opinion of her raising her flagging spirits. Ellard moaned, but didn’t wake.

“Jarlath, the men in red were Viros soldiers. I saw their uniforms when the wind blew up their cloaks. How has this happened?”

Jarlath crouched to check on his friend before rising again. “It tastes of magic. Somehow we need to stop the spell or reflect it back to the source.”

“I can’t see where I’m going,” Nasir shouted. “The rain is too heavy.”

“Keep going up,” Jarlath ordered.

“Aye,” Ollie said, his brown eyes wide and wild. “Plan.”

An explosion rocked the ground below them. A ripple of shockwave shook the flymo, and Nasir struggled to keep their vehicle on course, his wiry arms fighting the gravity pull. Finally, the flymo ceased the metallic shudders and leveled.

“Sky is clearing,” Nasir said. “Damn, most of the lower city is rubble.”

Keira glanced out the clear window and saw he was right. “Might be safer to take Ellard out to the farm.”

“We should try the medical center first,” Jarlath said. “If they can’t save his arm, they’ll have a surgeon to remove it. We can’t do that.”

Keira shuddered and studied the city below. “Someone needs to take control.”

“I intend to,” Jarlath said. “Just as soon as we get Ellard to a safe place.”

“The medical center be in one piece,” Ollie said.

“I be doing circle first,” Nasir said. “No point landing in the midst of those red fukkers.”

“Why did they put a protective barrier around the castle?” Jarlath asked.

Keira tried not to think of the possible scenarios. They popped into her head anyway. “Maybe Razvan wanted to keep the castle intact. Maybe he wants to live there or maybe he’s keeping the residents safe to make an example of them at a later time.”

“Whatever he’s doing, I don’t like it,” Jarlath said. “By destroying the lower city, he’s sliced the legs from the kingdom. Economically, at least. It will take time to rebuild, and the king and the council won’t fund the rebuild. It shames me to admit this, but it’s the truth.”

“What you know of fancy pants at castle?” Ollie demanded.

Keira saw Nasir’s attention divided, proving his interest in the answer.

Jarlath hesitated. “Ellard lives at the castle.”

“He security for royal prince,” Nasir said. “How you know Ellard?”

“He’s my best friend,” Jarlath said.

“What about her?” Ollie asked, the sharp jerk of his shoulder disturbing his dreads.

“She’s my woman,” Jarlath said.

“You live at castle?” Nasir asked.

“No,” Keira said. “I live on a farm.”

Nasir and Ollie glanced at each other. “It be safe?”

“So far,” Keira said. “We intend to take Ellard there after we get medical treatment. You could come with us if you want.”

The two youths exchanged a look.

“Maybe,” Ollie said. “You still owe us currency.”

“Yes,” Keira said.

“I land over there in park. Only clear space,” Nasir said.

It took three of them to haul Ellard to the medical center.

“I go back to flymo. To keep safe,” Ollie said. “We wait unless dangerous.” With a wave, he ran out the door.

“They didn’t recognize me,” Jarlath said, and there was something odd in his tone. “They live in the city and they didn’t recognize the heir to the throne. What does that say about the royal family? About me? We’re so busy living in the castle fortress we’ve lost touch with our people. We were ripe for attack.”

“It’s never too late to change,” Keira said.

“Maybe. Watch Ellard. I’ll find a medical man.”

He stalked off, agitation clear in his rigid shoulders. Her gaze slid down his back to settle on his butt, and she sighed. The more she knew of this man, the more she liked him. Jarlath disappeared around a corner and returned a short time later with an impatient man in tow.

“I have patients to attend to,” he snapped, his tanned face pulled tight into a glare. “You have no right to drag me from my patients.”

Jarlath trailed, his gaze watchful as if he suspected the man might run for freedom. He reminded Keira of a forest wolf stalking dinner.

“Please take a look,” Keira said. “We’ve stopped the bleeding but his arm is bad.”

The man crouched beside Ellard. “This is Ellard. Why didn’t you say? Go and summon two stretcher boys. Tell them to bring a big cart. Tell them Moses said to shift their butts into haste.”

Jarlath strode off to summon stretcher boys.

“What happened?” the medicine man demanded.

Keira crouched beside him. “Blaster at close quarters.”

“He’s going to lose the arm. Shifting won’t help this,” the man said.

“Do your best,” Keira said.

Jarlath returned and must have overheard. “Please do your best for him, medicine man. Do what you need to do and make him comfortable for travel.”

“He’ll stay here,” the man said. “That’s Ellard.”

“I’m aware of his identity,” Jarlath said. “Ellard is my best friend, and I intend to care for him.”

Whatever the man saw in Jarlath’s face reassured him. He gave a curt nod. “We’re short of staff. I’ll need help. You can both scrub and aid me during the amputation.”

Keira’s stomach roiled and not in a good way. She reached for Jarlath’s hand and squeezed in silent comfort while ordering herself to deal. There was no alternative.

Chapter Eleven

House of Cawdor, Planet Gramite

R
azvan paced the confines of his private chamber, a knifelike pain in his side.
Fukk
. He pressed his fingers to the ache and muttered under his breath.

His personal servant poked his head in the door. “Did you require something?”

“Leave me.” Nagging worry stirred Razvan’s temper, and his servant retreated, knowing better than to tangle with him in this mood. Something had happened to Marjo or Mareeka, but the surface of his private scrying bowl remained cloudy.

Fukk it!
Frustration tasted cold and dangerous on his tongue. He hated not knowing what was happening on Viros. Marjo and Mareeka’s lack of contact put him off-balance, made him doubt the next step in his plan.

He stalked to his scrying bowl and peered into the surface in the hope something had changed. “
Grata!
” he cursed after long moments presented nothing but dull fog.

His women were clever. Tough. They were chameleon shifters and soldiers. He laughed, the sound forced but heartfelt. His lovers could do anything and would come through for him. Of that, he was confident.

They’d introduced the bacteria to the food supply, rendering a large portion of the feline population unable to shift—a fact the House of the Cat had kept quiet but he knew was successful because of Marjo and Mareeka’s confirmation. With the help of the wizards, he’d created the magical barrier around the castle, one only penetrable by those of Cawdor blood, and they’d taken control of the lower guard station and turned the soldiers into mobile bombs.

Each of these steps had gone without a hitch, and there was no reason for this next phase to fail. He was worrying overmuch. Yes, Marjo and Mareeka would have matters under control while preparing for his arrival on Viros. Meantime, instead of worrying, he’d focus on the next part of his plan.

He intended to make an example of Keira, but first, he needed to locate the woman. She wasn’t lighting fires or using appliances that harnessed flames, which presented a problem.