Secrets of a Reckless Princess (17 page)

The threat to her mother was real and she groped behind her with her bound hands, searching, feeling…finding bare walls, and then slid a little to the right, still trying, her bound wrists a challenge, her head pounding from whatever the abductors had planted to stun them all.

And she found nothing.

No weapon, no clue as to where exactly she might be—no
help
.

Bound, locked in complete darkness, helpless…

No, not exactly.

She had one edge she could use, though whether or not it would work was not a question she could answer. Maybe Marc had to be close to read her mind…maybe he had to be in the same room. She had no idea, but she did know that their adversaries weren’t trustworthy and that whatever deal might be made was going to be under false pretenses and she would gladly die to spare Anasta’s people…

Help…the museum…they want more than what they say…don’t trust
…

Damon would be frantic to get to her. She knew this and it was comforting, even as she slumped against the wall, her fingers cold from too little circulation, trying to reach out to Marc. She’d managed to catch one lip of the tape but it evaded her, briefly clinging to a fingertip and then pulling free.

It’s money…it’s destruction and death…it’s power
…

What were they doing now? Getting ready to destroy the building? Launching an attack on the palace? Obviously they had successfully managed to distract even Kale’s trained staff enough they could set up the take-over of the museum, and that wasn’t easy to do.

Bastards
.

Give… me… a name
.

The words seeped in, a trickle, like she imagined it. Him? She thought so. Why would she ask herself something she already knew…and besides, she could swear, in that dark space, she
felt
him.

Marc.

Lucien
, she answered.

Lettrick
?

I don’t know
. She wanted to sob out loud in relief at being able to have this…this incredible connection
. Just a first name
.

Where are you, Jay
?

The only one who ever called her Jay was Damon, but this was Marc’s voice whispering in her brain,
his
presence, but she liked that too.

No, she loved it. She loved them both. She could swear she could smell a hint of Marc’s scent and feel his fingertips running along her skin…she pulled at the tape and actually heard it tear free, circulation returning to one hand in a tingling rush.

Don’t know
.
Dark
.
Musty. Underground storage
?

We’ll find you
…
stay there
.
Damon has the plans for the building
.

She believed him. That was one thing about Damon, he never gave up, his stubbornness normally irritating, but at the moment, it was reassuring. She rubbed her abraded wrist and then ripped the rest of the tape off the opposite hand, taking off quite a bit of skin if the warm wetness running over her fingers was an indication. It hurt, but it was much better than being bound. Not that she was quite free, but if she could manage it, maybe she could keep Lucien—whoever he was—from destroying the museum. She had no idea if the other people inside were still alive or not

The door, she found, was locked.

Of course it was, she thought in despair. The darkness was awful because she had no idea what her surroundings were like and…

Frantically, she pushed at the door, and miraculously, it opened. Jayla stumbled out into more darkness, but the air was cool, the impression of the space bigger. Either the lock had failed, or someone had been careless and not closed the door completely

Stay here
?
Marc
,
I’m sorry, but no
.

* * * *

Ran sat, staring hard at the screen, his mouth tight. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dealt with crisis situations before, but the widespread nature of the attacks was a true concern, not just for Minoa but in the sense that the governments of all the planets involved needed to deal with the problem the same way. A united front to terrorist attacks was always best, in his opinion. If other planets managed to successfully negotiate and save lives and some refused and citizens were killed, fingers were going to be pointed.

That’s why he wanted to talk to Ian Helm before he met with the Universal Council over this crisis.

“No doubt Mega 3 was a target also, but that went awry.”

Ran glanced up and saw that Ian was also staring at the illuminated map, one sinewy hand braced on the desk. “But now they have four others that were successful.”

“Big planets. All major powers. The targets valuable but not military…I’m still trying to decide how to handle it. What do you think?”

“They don’t want a war.” There was a thoughtful pause. “Yet. No one does something this complicated for nothing. If they destroy these buildings, it’s a powerful statement.”

There was that word again. Power.

“They are asking for money.”

“To finance a revolution, Ran.”

“Maybe.”

“Marc has interviewed one of them. He should be able to get more information.”

“His new wife is a hostage. He isn’t exactly available right now.”

Ian lifted a brow. “What advice are you going to give the Universal Council until then?”

Ran shook his head and stood. “I’m not sure yet, but our emergency meeting is in five minutes. Come with me.”

Chapter Fifteen

All those adventures as children had taught Damon that Jayla might possess a delicate beauty, but underneath she was an intelligent, resourceful female.

However, that was not all that reassuring when he knew she was trapped inside a besieged building with a group of fanatics who thought their cause could be best served by violence. A threat to execute the daughter of the ruler of Anasta was an effective bargaining tool.

It appeared there were only ten of them. Infrared detectors showed the majority of the life-forms in one room in the far southwest corner of the building, most of them unmoving, some of them glowing softer than others, which could mean cooling body temperatures indicating there had already been casualties.

The ten were scattered in various parts of the perimeter of the building, no doubt armed and ready for a possible attack.

“I can let you in by remotely deactivating the locks,” Kale said tersely, “but I can’t promise they won’t kill you the minute the door opens and you step through. The communication sent to them was met with refusal. No negotiation. They want payment.”

“They must have known we would want to try and bargain,” Marc said, his face set. They stood on the street outside the building, with transport vehicles everywhere but Kale keeping his men back and out of sight. “They have to be able to get off the planet once this is done.”

It was a good point. Holding the legacy of a planet’s history hostage was one thing, but the captor’s had to have a plan for fleeing once the money was transferred to the specified accounts.

Damon was still dead-set against giving into their demands. To him on an intellectual basis, what was happening was a strike against all proposed reform and a general detriment to the cause to evoke new, more modern laws. When force was used instead of logic and education, it impeded back the timetable of progress.

Above all though, there was Jayla.

If he thought about it too much, he would lose all sense of perspective, and he needed to be calm. The idea of her in danger paralyzed him and he had to be ready and clear-headed.

Damon stared at the building’s square façade, the glass walls going up several stories, all power currently cut so it was utterly dark inside. Marc swore Jay was alive…

“She is,” Marc said, his voice grim. “But she doesn’t know where she is in the building. It’s a big facility and it’s dark in there. We need to give them back the lights.”

“I’m going to have to restore power to open the doors anyway.” Kale was scanning a handheld device as spoke, his usual immaculate uniform rumpled from the long night. “As for how they plan on getting out of there, I just got a communication saying there is an unlicensed transport that is blocking all signals in close hover. The aircraft could be on the ground in minutes.”

“What makes them think we won’t take it out the moment the terrorists are on board?” Damon asked, running his fingers restlessly through his hair. He wanted—no needed—to do something
now
. He’d studied enough military tactics to know long delays in response to threats ended disastrously often enough. Then he answered his own question, “Because they plan on taking several hostages with them. Damn it.”

“That would be my guess,” Kale agreed. He nodded toward the front entrance. “The Universal Council is in session right now and they are going to issue a decree about how all the involved planets should handle this. I might receive orders to not let you go in there at any moment, depending on their decision. So I suggest if you are intent on trying this angle, go now. I’ll activate the power as soon as you are close. When lights come back on, the doors should unlock. There are two of them in the main lobby and if they were my men, I would have given orders to kill anyone coming through that entrance.”

“That’s reassuring,” Damon muttered. He said to Marc, “You’d better be one hell of a diplomat, Kartel.” Then to Kale he said succinctly, “Let them know we’re coming in.”

* * * *

None of the scans were working, the transport elevators from floor to floor were inoperable, and it was so dark that Jayla stumbled over something after yet another futile attempt to try and find a way to the main floor. She went down hard, her palm slamming into the floor as she tried to break her fall, and the pain jolted upward from wrist to shoulder. It was impossible to not cry out, though immediately she stifled the small sound of discomfort.

Too late. Someone had heard it.

He came out of a doorway, obviously holding a glow lamp, the thin pencil of light vivid in the darkness, the result making him just a shadowy figure, the light sweeping the hallway.

Was that a stairwell?
she wondered in a panic, not wanting to be locked away again, but unarmed and now injured, it wasn’t like she was a formidable opponent. She scooted back as unobtrusively as possible against the wall, wondering if there was anywhere to hide. The only option was one of the entrances to the nonfunctioning floor-to-floor station doors a few feet away, and when the man—or it might be a female, she couldn’t tell—turned around to sweep the light the other direction, she got to her feet and made a short dash and pressed there against the doors, her heart pounding.

It was better, to the extent she felt somewhat hidden, but also worse, because she couldn’t see the person with the light any longer, just the glow as it slid along the walls and floor, searching….searching…

The beam caught what she’d fallen over. It was a small sign that was obviously temporary, the writing on it impossible to read as the illumination skittered over it, but it was
there
.

Peeking around the corner, Jayla saw the figure was startlingly close, only a few feet away.

Terrorist
, she reminded herself, her wrist hurting, her head still aching from the drug.
He’s willing to kill innocent people
. More than anything, she wanted that light in his hand—but it had to be a male from his height…