Claimed & Seduced (26 page)

“We can’t lose either way.” Razvan’s gaze caressed Mareeka and held an edge of lust. “Keira will be useful to our cause. Very useful indeed. Let us go, darling. We have much to discuss and plan now that we are together again. Keira, take care of him. We will see you later either way.”

“No problem. I’ll dispose of him and keep guard. Nothing must go wrong before we make our move tonight at their ball,” Keira said, her manner decisive. Razvan was more trusting than she’d expected.

“Excellent.” Razvan stroked his beard. “Don’t disappoint me. This is the only chance you’ll get.”

Or maybe
she
was the gullible one. She’d need to watch herself every step of the way.

“Don’t let him go.” Mareeka bared her teeth at Ellard and snarled. “He deserves to die for daring to touch me, touch my sister.”

“And he will.” Keira didn’t know how she managed to hold the woman’s hard stare or spout such trash. Ellard was a good man who lived to serve and protect. He would give his life for Jarlath.

“Don’t interrupt us,” Mareeka said.

“Of course not,” Keira agreed. The farther she kept away from them, the happier she’d feel. “You.” She jabbed her blaster into Ellard’s ribs. “Over here, around the corner and in the middle of the street. I want your body to serve as a warning.” She nudged him hard and sent him lurching forward a step.

“You won’t get away with this.” Ellard straightened and glowered at them all, defiant to the last.

“Oh, I think she will,” Razvan said with a chuckle. “My pet has a vicious streak. Why I still have a scar where she bit me many cycles ago. Do you remember, pet?”

“Yes,” Keira said, her tone short. “Are you going to supervise or do you trust me to carry out this task on my own?”

“The crow are merciless when they have their sights set on a task,” Razvan said with a soft smile. “You have stated your intent and can report back later. Come, darling. Let us rest before our victory parade this eve.”

Razvan and Mareeka disappeared into the soldiers’ quarters, and Keira saw Mareeka kick the door shut. A statement of ownership. Fine. The other woman was welcome to Razvan, although if she trusted Keira’s half-brother, she was foolish. Only one person mattered to Razvan, and that was himself.

“Get moving,” Keira snapped at Ellard and dug her blaster into his ribs again.

“Bitch,” he snarled.

She ignored his insults and focused on getting him around the corner and out of sight. “Get a move on. I don’t have all day.”

“I told Jarlath you were trouble. Warned him about you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Keira muttered and took pleasure in digging her weapon into his back. His words hurt, and the small mutiny on her part brought a measure of satisfaction. She hope he bruised—the ungrateful lout.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw they were out of sight of the soldiers’ quarters. Keira lifted the blaster and fired into the air. Once. Then she stuffed her weapon in her holster. “You can turn around now, Ellard. Give me the cat pendant you wear around your neck.”

“No.” He clutched at the onyx carving, as if he suspected she might snatch it from him.

“Don’t be stupid. Give me the pendant so they believe I shot you. Everyone knows you never take the thing off.”

Ellard stared at her and shook his head. “Which side are you on?”

“I thought you were an intelligent man. Hurry, give me the pendant, then go and find Jarlath. You need to come up with a plan to take out Mareeka and Razvan with minimal loss. I have a plan, but I don’t know if it will work, which is why you need a strategy too.” She held out her hand in silent demand.

Ellard fumbled, clumsy with his one hand.

“Turn around and let me do it.”

Silently, Ellard presented his back and she stood on tiptoe to unfasten the cord.

“Use your knife,” he ordered. “Cutting it off will make more sense to them.”

She did as he said, and pocketed the onyx cat before sliding her knife back into her boot.

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I thought Jarlath had seized the opportunity for escape, but you were aware of him the entire time. You let him escape.”

She shrugged.

“What are you going to tell them when my body isn’t lying in the middle of the street?”

“I’ll tell them someone must have shifted your body.”

He lifted his hand in a respectful salute—one soldier to another—and sped away. Keira sucked in a deep breath, watched him disappear while ignoring her unhappy crow. She took two steps toward the soldiers’ quarters before coming to a halt.

Blood.

She needed blood on the cobblestones. She pulled out her knife, lifted her sleeve and sliced her arm, letting the drops fall onto the ground in one concentrated area. She scowled. Not enough blood. Where…how…ah! A butcher’s shop. She’d seen that one two levels up. A good place to find what she needed.

Ten mins later, she gave a satisfied nod. The patch of fresh blood looked about right, certainly enough to thwart suspicions from Razvan and Mareeka.

Keira made her way to the soldiers’ quarters and took a position outside where anyone passing would be unlikely to spot her straightaway.

She had plenty of time to firm up her plan and consider different scenarios. She prayed she managed to pull off the ultimate bluff.

Chapter Thirteen

J
arlath disliked leaving Ellard to the mercies of the lunatic, and even more, he hated leaving Keira. His feline snarled, the fury reverberating through his head for long secs. He ran for safety and slid around a corner, stopping out of sight when he heard Keira speaking.

She was talking of a delay, offering a plan to stall the enemy. Clever and brave. His chest tightened in acknowledgement of the risk she was taking on his behalf, on behalf of the people of Viros when they’d treated her no better than mud on their paws. Keira’s gift—precious hours to make plans.

The ball.

He frowned at that. Risky. Ellard in a red cloak.
Fukk
, that didn’t sound good. He hoped she knew what she was doing. Time to make his escape. Keira had given him this chance to come up with a plan, was putting her own life at risk to help.

Jarlath set off at a lope and attempted to ignore his feline’s unhappiness. His feline didn’t want to leave Keira, and he felt a physical wrench at the parting.
Grata
, he didn’t want to leave her either, but there was more at stake. The people in the city needed help and the House of the Cat required him to forsake his personal requirements. This was for the greater good.

“Shush,” Jarlath soothed when sharp claws perforated the tips of his fingers and his canines pierced his gums. “Keira has a plan. We have to trust her to make it work. No point in all of us getting killed.” But even as he put his thoughts into words, his heart cried out. Keira was in the hands of that maniac, and the idea sent unease marching down his spine. No matter what Ellard said or thought, Jarlath believed in Keira—her integrity and honesty. She was on their side, remained part of House of the Cat. As he continued to the castle, his thoughts lingered on the scene with Razvan and Mareeka. Despite her bravado, it was obvious Razvan Cronan terrified Keira. He’d caught the thread of nerves in her tight shoulders and her rapid blinking, the gasp of breath before she’d stepped forward to align herself with the Cawdor. And something else occurred to him, facts clicking neatly into place. Her mother had arranged Keira’s marriage to Marcus in order to keep her safe.

What to do? How could he help her?

Jarlath thought through their original plan. They’d mass the soldiers, and would attempt to remove their red cloaks to make the soldiers and the city safer. Yes, he’d go to the meeting point and get as many soldiers into position as possible. Perhaps they could find replacement cloaks and leave Razvan with his illusions. Not a bad idea. At least it was a start. Somehow, he’d have to talk his father and Ellard’s father into letting him take the lead.

As he ran up to the next level of the city, he noticed things appeared under control. People were outside, clearing the rubble and restoring order. Despite his hurry, he stopped to speak with several, introduced himself to those who didn’t recognize him and promised aid.

“Words be worth
nothink,
” a woman said. “We be needin’ action.”

“I understand, and I won’t go against my word. I will prove the House of the Cat cares for its people and not just those with status,” Jarlath said and meant every word.

The House of the Cat required change in order to grow.

Other citizens had the same reaction, one Jarlath understood, given the divide in the classes and the current situation. For about the tenth time, he wished Lynx and Shiloh were here. Between him, Lynx, Ellard, and Shiloh, they’d make their parents see reason. If his parents didn’t agree to move with the times, he wasn’t sure what would happen. Something had to give or the city would implode.

Jarlath made it to the east gate and the open area just outside. Several soldiers, still dressed in red cloaks, stood in a clustered group while their ragtag army of volunteers kept a watchful eye. Their volunteers held an assortment of weapons—bludgeons, knives, a battered black pan made of heavy metal and several had purple tree branches. Having seen the damage the men in red could inflict, Jarlath didn’t blame the volunteers in their wariness.

“Good job,” Jarlath said when Ollie and Nasir reached his side.

“The soldiers refused to remove their cloaks,” Ollie said. “Decided to wait.”

Jarlath scrutinized the men, their innocuous red cloaks. A few bore bloody noses and obvious war wounds. They hadn’t all surrendered of their free will. “We need to diffuse them somehow. Stay here. I’ll speak with them.”

“Where be Keira and Ellard?” Cristop asked, coming to join them.

Jarlath saw more of their volunteers arrive with soldiers in red. A dozen soldiers were escorted to join the rest. The volunteers wandered over to their friends and acquaintances. They exchanged greetings, their chatter restrained.

Jarlath studied the soldiers and frowned. Not a good idea to put the red-cloaks together. Amassed like this, they’d cause a huge explosion should it rain.

“There’s been a hiccup.” Jarlath glanced at the sky, reassured by the brilliant blue and cloudless sky. “I’m going to speak with the soldiers.”

Ollie grabbed his shoulder. “You the prince. Need to stay safe. I go.”

“No,” Jarlath said. “It is up to me to fix this. You stay here in safety.”

“No,” Ollie said.

“No,” Cristop added his objection.

Nasir remained silent, but his expression said he agreed with his friends.

“I have spent my entire life secluded from reality. That changes now.” Jarlath strode toward the group of silent soldiers and forced himself to focus on his hastily concocted plan.

“We’re coming with you.” Ollie matched him stride for stride.

“Fine. You can watch for rain and other sources of water.” Jarlath marched up to the soldiers. “Eyes front,” he barked. “Attention!”

Conditioned to the abrupt commands, the soldiers formed a line and stood to attention. So far, so good. Although they followed his order, their behavior was off. Some bore sulky expressions—they were the ones who had suffered the bloody noses—while others seemed trancelike with blank eyes and slack features. It was as if someone compelled their actions.

“Why are you out of uniform?” Jarlath barked, channeling Danion Tetsu when he was inspecting the troops for a formal occasion. “Remove those cloaks now.”

Not one of the soldiers moved, and Jarlath heard the burst of chatter from their volunteers.

“Drop and give me twenty,” Jarlath roared.

To his relief all sixteen soldiers dropped and started doing pushups, counting them off in a staccato fashion.

Cristop tugged on Jarlath’s sleeve and whispered urgently, “Don’t make them sweaty. Might blow us all up.”

Fukk.
He hadn’t thought of that. “Good point.” Jarlath frowned, considered his next move. “Any soldier who wishes to obey my order to remove their cloak may stop doing pushups.”

Three froze in the up position. They stood and started to unfasten the toggles on their cloaks. Their hands trembled violently, as if they were acting contrary to another set of orders.

Cristop advanced and unfastened the toggles for the nearest soldier. He helped to pull off the cloak and the soldier blinked, reminding Jarlath of a man awakening from a deep sleep. The soldier regarded his surroundings with wide eyes.

“Attention!” Jarlath roared when he noticed the others had finished their pushups and sagged toward the ground.

All of the soldiers jerked upright then scrambled to their feet, their movements not as sluggish.

“Stand to attention.” Jarlath gestured to the youngsters. “Quick. Off with their cloaks.”

Cristop and Ollie helped the other two soldiers with their cloaks since their fingers also trembled too much to complete the motor function.

“Excellent,” Jarlath said to the three dazed men. “Go and join the men over there. Quick march. Left, right, left, right.” To his relief, the three soldiers obeyed without hesitation.

Now for the others. He gestured for Ollie, Cristop and Nasir to join him. “They’re hexed. We’re going to have to help them remove the cloaks.”

“We do one each we finish quick,” Ollie said.

Jarlath sucked in a quick breath, awed by their no-nonsense bravery. “Get ready. You four, step forward.” His bark of command galvanized them to action, and they saluted crisply. Well-trained. He could use their conditioned responses. “At ease, men. Guys, let’s hurry,” he added in an undertone.

With trembling fingers, Jarlath unfastened the toggles on the man’s cloak and slid it off his shoulders. His breath eased out when the cloak fluttered to the ground, his heartbeat a loud
boom-boom-boom
inside his head. “Done?”

“Finished,” Cristop said.

Ollie scooped up the cloaks and set them on the pile, at the edge of the open ground.

This group of men behaved as if they were awakening from a long sleep. Judging by their expressions, they had no idea of where they were and how they’d arrived in the square.