The Silver Eyed Prince (Highest Royal Coven of Europe) (12 page)

“You're choking me.” He stretched his neck. Her face was so close, his jaw brushed against the side of her face. The sweet scent of her skin kept driving him to di
straction.

“Sorry.” She relaxed her grip only to sag down.

“Hold on tighter, will you?” he said huskily, once again craving the feel of her curves pressed against him.
Never mind if he choked to death—not that it would happen.

“You said I was choking you!”

“Look. If you fall, I'm not coming back for you.” He shifted her upwards, prompting her to fasten herself securely on his back. “Okay, now don't ever—
ever
let go,” he said firmly, relishing the sensual friction of her softness against him just a tad longer, even if his restraint was just a hair away from splitting.
Pay attention!
He mentally kicked himself. If he didn't get them out of here in the next minute, they would end up taking their vows with the minister tomorrow.

He assessed the wall and sharpened his focus. “Ready?” He angled his head a little, his cheek touching hers.

“Yes,” she whispered, her lips brushing the side of his chin as she clung closer to him.

Nice.
He smiled in approval and pulled himself up to his full height. Then he positioned one leg a single stride ahead of the other leg and bent both knees almost halfway in a launching stance. He used both their body weights to build rigid tension in his strong, muscular thighs. Feeling the rush, he released the pressure with a powerful jolt.

They went airborne, over the wall and on the ground in less than five seconds.

Elizabeth shut her eyes as soon as they launched off the ground. She felt the forceful thrust and unnerving d
escent, but not the landing.

“Elizabeth?” A deep voice whi
spered.

She raised her lashes slowly.

A pair of silver eyes peered at her with concern. They were so close she could see the metallic flecks in the irises.
Such
beautiful eyes.
She could spend hours just gazing at them.

“Prince William!” Major Alexander's voice inte
rrupted her daydream. “Is she okay?”

Elizabeth whipped her head to find the Major and her friends rushing t
owards them—with the entire class trailing right behind.

“A little shaken up, but fine,” the Prince replied, his baritone v
ibrating pleasantly against her chest.

Her chest?
My God! She was still clinging to him like a stupid tree frog!

“Oh, no!” She abruptly released her arms and pushed against his back, wrenching her legs free from his grasp.

“Wait! You'll—” He lost his grip.

She landed on the grass, sprawled like a holiday turkey in front ever
yone.
Now, how did she manage to land on her ass twice—also in the same class?

“I was going to say,”
Mr. Mockery
resurrected with a vengeance, obviously entertained, “that you'll fall.” His eyes glittered and his mouth curved with suppressed laughter.

At that point, Elizabeth wanted to give him a piece of her temporarily deranged mind, but Ben saved her the trouble.

“You're all muddy and wet!” Ben fussed. “Are you okay, Sweetie? I hope you didn't hurt your ovaries!”

“Will you quit talking like a gonad?” Carlos snapped. “Here, take my hand.” He pulled Elizabeth to her feet.

“Come on.” Lela tugged on her arm and signaled to Ben and Carlos. “Ben has extra clothes in his car.”

They excused themselves from Major Alexander who readily let them go without confronting her, thank God!

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder on their way out. She was fairly certain
Mr. Mockery
was enjoying this spectacle at her expense.

However, her loathing was cut short when she saw him. He stood with his arms crossed on his chest, loo
king at her the way he did when he held her in his arms in that dark creek.

A warm glow lit her heart.

Tenderness. That was the look he gave her.

So in spite of her unwavering opinion that he was a conceited, ove
rconfident snob, whom she would never,
ever,
like.... She met his gaze and returned the same tenderness with a shy smile.

The Duke of Northern Peninsula

January 10, 2011

Northern Wilderness

Cape York Peninsula,
Australia

       J
ohn Drake stood by the window in his library, staring out into the starless night deep in his thoughts. The only son of the Duke of Northern Peninsula, he was a lucky man. Handsome, intelligent, and extremely wealthy, he inherited his father's title and assets after his death.

He had everything
—but why was there a gaping hole in his heart?

A tap on the door broke his cog
itation.

“Yes?” he asked with a hint of a
nnoyance.

“Lieutenant Jones, Your Grace.”

“Come in.” John sat on the leather chair behind his desk.

Lieutenant Jones entered. “We have the most recent lists you requested, Your Grace, but I'm afraid the trail is cold.”

John met his scarlet eyes with his black gaze. “Did you pull up student records from every school in America?”

“Yes, Your Grace, like I did the previous years.” Lt. Jones positioned a laptop on the desk and turned the screen towards him. “The Highest Royal Coven curren
tly controls two hundred schools across the country. One hundred are tactical schools exclusively for Descendants. The other hundred are progressive learning schools for Royals and the Tainted.

“We examined the records of Royal students e
nrolled in every progressive learning school, but came out with no leads.” The Lieutenant shook his head.

John Drake sat back and propped his chin between his thumb and index finger, absorbing the information. “Are you sure you didn't miss an
ything?”

“Absolutely, Your Grace. We found one hundred and twenty nine Royals by the name of Elizabeth this year, but none of them have the correct paren
tage.”

“Hmm.”
They couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth
, John wondered. He was hunting Elizabeth Gwendolyn XV, former queen of the Highest Royal Coven of Europe all over the globe, when one of his men discovered her hiding in America by accident.

Twelve years earlier he sent his Sergeant in Cal
ifornia to recruit
Discards,
Descendants like Lieutenant Jones, who had been rejected by the Royal Army Review Board because of reasons that didn't necessarily mean a lack of skill.  

The
Discards
were perfect for his rapidly growing private army. They were combat trained and battle ready, but had nowhere to go after failing to meet the stringent requirements befitting a Royal Army Cadet.

Unable to recruit European D
escendants due to the scarcity of Discards from their breed, he settled for Australian and American Descendants. The latter had been the reason he sent Sergeant McKay to coastal California.

The same Sergeant promptly reported rumors he'd heard about a woman strolling along a private beach ev
ery day at dusk, who bore a remarkable resemblance to Queen Elizabeth Gwendolyn XV. Upon further investigation he had discovered that not only was she the Queen in disguise, but she'd been living with humans.

Humans
! John shook his head and chuckled.
Who would've thought she would stoop that low, living with Mortals in America instead of using her Royal connections to hide?

“Your Grace?” The forgotten Lieutenant Jones i
nquired.

John waved his hand to dismiss him. “Leave the laptop with me. I wish to go through the records m
yself.”

He reflected for a minute as the door closed. Se
rgeant McKay and his men had gone at once to recapture the former Queen, but once again, she'd outsmarted them
.
She created false leads, changed identities multiple times, and relentlessly moved from state to state.

Crafty little witch!
Her dizzying, complicated scheme proved to be successful. Twelve years later, his efforts to locate her remained futile.  

However, one little detail could be the key to her whereabouts. During those daily walks the former Queen took at the beach, Sergeant McKay wi
tnessed something crucial.

A little girl accompanied her.

Her daughter.

Therefore, no—, they couldn't have vanished wit
hout a trace.
That daughter of hers, now seventeen years old if he wasn't mistaken, should be in one of the schools somewhere.

John pulled the laptop towards him and began pouring over the lists himself.

Prince William’s Dilemma

       E
lizabeth blew a sigh of relief as she parked by the curb in front of her house. She hated the forty-five minute drive through the creepy dark woods from Darian Hall. She tiptoed across the porch and entered the house, mumbling a quick “hi” to her mom who was working on the computer as she headed up the stairs.

Her mom followed her to her room. “How was school?” she asked, leaning on the door frame.

“Fine.” Elizabeth glanced at her and unlaced her shoes.

“Did you like your teachers and your classmates?”

“Yeah.” She took off her sneakers hoping her short quips would not encourage further conversation. The last thing she wanted was to talk about how her first day went.

“Any interesting boys?” Mom inquired so eagerly that Elizabeth sat up and gaped at her.

“Mom!” She rolled her eyes. “It's the first day of school!”

“Just asking.” Mom shrugged inn
ocently.

Elizabeth bent down and pushed her shoes away, hiding the hot flush on her cheeks. Not once in her entire life did her mom ask her about boys—until now. She quickly brushed off the thought of a certain dark haired guy with the most beautiful eyes.

“Where'd you get that dress?” Mom moved away from the doorframe and sat next to her on the bed. “What happened to your clothes?”

Elizabeth tried to look as nonchalant as possible. “From Ben, one of my new friends.” She pulled off her socks and threw them in a hamper. “He's into costumes.”

“I'm glad you found new friends quickly, but I'm curious as to how you ended up in Ben's orange fairy costume with wet socks and sneakers.”

“I—uh—fell in a creek. Combat class. Long story.” Elizabeth pulled out the bag of wet clothes from her backpack. “I really need to launder these.” She stood up to end her Mot
her's inquisition.

“By the way,” Mom got the hint and switched the subject, “your high school friends saw me on the front porch and stopped by on their way home from a party right after you left. I told them you were still with your Aunt Karen.”

Elizabeth averted her face, concealing the pang of guilt from cutting off contact with her friends. One of these days, when she has everything all figured out, she would find a way to see them, starting with Bryan.

“You'll be able to visit with them soon.” Mom took Elizabeth’s hands in hers.

Elizabeth jerked her head to meet her mom's gaze. “You'll let me see them?”

“Yes, but give yourself time to master self- control before you
do.”

Elizabeth shrieked and flung her arms around her mom, thanking her pr
ofusely. She would be with Bryan and her friends again—soon!

In the council chambers at Darian Hall, Sir Henry rose from his desk as the doors opened. Richard strode in with Prince William Erik XIV.

“Your Highness.” Sir Henry bowed.

Prince William acknowledged his courtesy with as curt nod. “I wanted to discuss some pressing concerns with you.” He sat down on one of the leather chairs opposite him.

Sir Henry swallowed the lump in his throat. The Prince was as impatient and straightforward as his f
ather, King William James XIII. “I will be glad to be of assistance, Your Highness.” He took his seat and glanced at Richard.

“He can stay,” the Prince, answered his unspoken question.

Richard sat on the chair next to the Prince.

“Why wasn't Elizabeth prepared for me?” Prince William inquired without further ado.

Sir Henry was astonished at how easily he had identified Elizabeth out of the one thousand students at Darian Hall. “She is surrounded by unusual circumstances, Your Highness.”

“Her memory is full of humans; h
uman sentiments and experiences,” the Prince stated irritably. “She's absolutely unaware of her true heritage and purpose! Explain to me why Elizabeth Gwendolyn the fifteenth, her mother, did not instruct her.”