Royal Elite: Leander (9 page)

Chey scowled and thrust her chin out, staring up at her husband. “Don't lecture me. It's his
life
we're trying to save. And I have a few questions for you, too, mister, but those will wait.”

Any other time, Leander would have cheered on Chey's rebellious streak. He liked that about her. She never cowed to anyone, especially her husband. It was a trait Chey shared with Wynn. No wonder the two girls were best friends. However, Chey snared his attention, as he was sure she meant to.

“What do you mean, Chey?” he asked, coming down the steps until he was on a level with the rest.

Ahsan stood near the closed door, still alert for any unwanted activity as the details spilled out.

Chey turned her ire on Leander next. She said, “We've been trying to reach you. Haven't you at least got your phone on vibrate? It's urgent that you go home immediately.”

A cold spike of fear raced down Leander's spine. “I don't turn my phone on while I'm...busy.”

“Really. Well you all need to change that rule or whatever it is. A hand delivered letter arrived at Kallaster after you left, addressed to you. Naturally, Wynn opened it.”

“Naturally,” Sander said.

Chey shot Sander a hot look, then directed her attention to Leander. “It was from your father. He says you have three days to go see him, because otherwise, you'll die.”

Sudden and complete silence reigned for the span of exactly five seconds. Leander processed the warning, torn between emotions. His father had done some extreme things to get him home before, but this was unprecedented. Death? Even Leander didn't think his father would go that far. In the last weeks, he'd flatly ignored several messages he knew to come from his father's phone, deciding it was a tactic to get him back to California.

“For what reason? What is the danger?” Leander asked first.

“The letter didn't say,” Chey said. She stood with her hands calmly at her sides, chin still tipped up a notch. Defiant.

“Do you have it with you?”

“No. Wynn has it.”

“Why isn't Wynn with you?” Leander figured Wynn would have insisted on coming with Chey. It made sense in his mind, since it was his safety in question.

“Because she went to California.”

Leander took a step forward, eyes narrowing. His scalp immediately started tingling, both with fury and with fear. It was never good when his scalp tingled. Bad things usually happened afterward. “She did
what?”

Chey licked her lips and repeated herself. “She went to see your father.”

Leander tilted his head back and cupped his crown with both hands. Shock. He was in shock. And angrier at Wynn than he'd ever been.

“Leander, what the hell is going on?” Sander asked.

“A truckload of trouble, that's what,” Ahsan muttered from the doorway.

Leander flipped his hands to his sides. “She should
never
have gone there. What was she thinking? When did she leave?”

“Someone had to do something,” Chey said. “She doesn't want to see you die.
I
don't want you to die, either. She left yesterday and apparently already met up with your father. I don't think anything else would have put that kind of fear in her voice but affirmation that your life is in serious jeopardy.”

Leander snarled, fighting down an urge to smack the wall with his fist. This was not the news he wanted to hear.

Ahsan said, “What's the problem with Wynn waiting for you in California?”

“Because she's probably just put herself in mortal danger,” Leander said. He made a harsh gesture with his hand in the air, a slicing motion of frustration, and turned away from the trio. He couldn't leave Sander, Mattias and Ahsan right before a strike. They would be one man down, and their numbers were already few. It would put them in jeopardy, make Kristo's extraction that much harder. Yet his concern for Wynn was paramount. No one else knew what he knew, no one understood the dangers that lurked in the house nestled into the redwood forest.

“I don't understand. Why is
she
now in danger?” Chey said with clear worry in her voice.

“Because my father is--”

Mattias's shout spiraled down the staircase, interrupting the conversation. “
Incoming!”

In the midst of battle, the normal hierarchy that existed involving ranking and privilege evaporated like mist under a hot sun. Sander, Ahsan and Mattias, all titled men in high positions, became combatants just like Leander. It wasn't one man to protect the group, but the group to protect themselves.

A split second after Mattias's warning, the three men downstairs broke into different actions, all without speaking. They worked in unison from long years of knowing each other's minds on the proverbial battlefield, guessing what the other would do in certain circumstances.

Leander knew automatically that Ahsan would cover the downstairs doors, and that Sander would rush Chey up the staircase to the highest floor.

Every first level door and window was a weakness, which meant Leander needed to help Ahsan provide cover there. Creeping through the hallways as Sander bustled Chey up the steps, and as Ahsan took up a position by the back door, Leander came up on the front entrance and pressed his spine to the wall. The gun was already in his hand, safety off.

A sudden
bang
at the back, near Ahsan, swerved Leander's attention down the hall toward the sound. A boot made contact with wood, splintering the rusty lock. Leander, hesitant to leave his post in case there was another attack coming at
his
door, listened as a scuffle ensued. Ahsan was in the thick of it, apparently doing hand to hand combat with an intruder.

Knowledge that one of his own was in an all out fight trumped guarding the door. Leander went low, following the wall. Thumbing the safety on, he tucked the gun into the back of his waistband to free his hands.

Although no one had said so, each man understood that hand to hand was preferable to shooting. In this scenario, they didn't want to draw more attention to their whereabouts, to alert the other guards of their armed status.

Rounding the corner, Leander saw Ahsan engaged with two men. A violent struggle for a weapon, for
life,
was under way. No slouch in the fistfight department, Ahsan was holding his own. He had one man on the ground, foot on his throat, while he grappled with a second. Blood spattered the concrete floor from someone's broken nose or split lip.

Stealthy as a ghost, Leander grabbed the upright man in a chokehold and yanked the man backward, twisting as he went. The attacker stumbled and went down face first to the ground. Leander grunted when they landed, spreading his feet wide to give him balance atop the other man. Retaining the choke hold, Leander hissed a question into his ear. “How many?”

The intruder gasped and struggled, flailing an arm to the side. A shiny knife clattered across the floor and struck the base of the wall.

“How many?” Leander demanded, adding more pressure with his arm. He wanted to know how many attackers they had to face.

“Two, two!”

Leander arched his head and shoulders back when Mattias appeared with a length of rope and secured the man's hands. Pulling the intruder to his feet, Leander forced him toward Ahsan and the other assailant, also now subdued and sitting with his back against the wall.

In grungy clothes, the assailants sulked and refused to meet anyone's eyes.

“Apparently, it's just the two of them,” Leander said, getting his breath back.

“For now. When they don't return in a little while, we'll see a few more show up, I think,” Mattias said. “I only saw two coming across the street, so this should take care of it until they send more men.”

Ahsan examined the shattered doorknob as well as the splintered frame. “We need to find out how many they've got over there. I'd guess that these are lackeys, not the 'real' guards. They don't know who we are, or how many, or what we're doing here. Just that we're suspicious to them.”

Leander knew crossing the street with Chey had drawn too much attention. Unavoidable, unfortunately, to get her to safety. “Can you question them?” Leander asked Ahsan, taking care not to use his name.

“Yeah, I'll find out what they know.” He switched languages and pelted the men with abrupt, terse questions.

“You got this? I'm going up to check on Sander and Chey and see what the situation is across the street,” Leander said to Mattias, keeping his voice too low for anyone else to hear.

“Yes. Let us know what you find out,” Mattias said.

Leander turned to the stairs, ascending in a loping stride. Hitting the fourth floor, he hugged the wall and followed it around to Sander, who stood close to a window while Chey sat with her back to an opposite wall, well away from the windows and possible gunfire.

“How do things look? We've got two men downstairs,” Leander said to Sander.

“It's busier over there than it was before. Guards coming in and out the front doors on a regular basis. More coming out the back and circling the building. It's going to be all but impossible to approach from any direction now without being seen.”

“Ahsan's questioning the men right now, trying to find out how many we're up against over there.” In the back of his mind, Leander split his attention between this crisis and Wynn. As far as he was concerned, that was more important than liberating Kristo. His heart was involved with Wynn, which made her the priority.

That, and he knew what lurked on the premises of his father's house. He didn't want her anywhere near it.

“You should let Kristo's father deal with Kristo,” Chey said from her sitting position against the wall. “No offense, but we've also got a life in danger here, one with a time limit.”

“I know, Chey. I know. We're all aware,” Sander said. He scanned the street with the binoculars again.

“Will you call Wynn and tell her I said to leave there immediately, Chey?” Leander said. “We should know what we're going to do here about Kristo in the next fifteen minutes or so, but until then, I could really use knowing she's not at the house any longer.”

“Why can't she be at the house, Leander? Is your father untrustworthy or something?” Chey slithered to a stand, keeping her spine flush against the wall.

“It's complicated, Chey. And some of it is...sensitive.” Leander licked his lips. His mouth felt as if he'd stuffed a wad of cotton in there.

“If you don't tell us what's going on--”

“That's just it. I don't
know
why my father thinks I'm in danger. I saw him once, two months ago, and not for a year before that. But I want Wynn off the property. Please call her and tell her I said to go.” His stomach tightened at the very thought of her anywhere near the back buildings.

“I'll do it, because you're worrying me with whatever else you can't tell me. I just wish you could trust us with the whole truth.” Chey eased along the wall toward the open door, then slipped out into the hall.

Leander glanced after her. He wished he could be more forthcoming. The fact of it was—he couldn't. The information was too volatile and if it got into the wrong hands, bad things would happen.

He met Sander's eyes when the king twisted around to look back.

Sander said, “You should get on the road. Get where you need to go. We'll call in reinforcements here and if we have to, we'll hold off getting Kristo out.”

“You and I both know that reinforcements won't get here in time. This situation is deteriorating rapidly and I think they'll either attack here again or try and move Kristo the second they have an opportunity. There are more of them than there are of us, just from what activity I've seen on the outside. Who knows how many more might be inside. We're outnumbered, and if I leave, that's just one less fighter in the fray.”

“Look. I might not be quite as close to you as my brother is, but we're still family. I don't want to see anything happen to you, either. We'll get Kristo to safety, don't worry about it. Take Chey out of here for me. Get her away from the danger. It solves two problems at once.”

“Then you're coming with us. I'm not leaving you behind.” Leander served as security for the Ahtissari brothers, although he was not technically on their payroll or considered an employee, per se. He did it because he believed in their politics, their honor and their loyalty to their people.

“I've got Mattias and Ahsan here. Chey brought a few guards with her—true, not the ones I would have chosen, but we can use them,” Sander said.

“What if I refuse?”

“What if I
order
you to?”

Leander hesitated. He wasn't beholden to Sander, or anyone else for that matter, and didn't have to obey any order. However, he understood the point Sander was trying to make. Someone besides himself could run things,
had
successfully run missions in his absence, and today would be that kind of day. Ahsan, Mattias and Sander would get along without him.

“I don't like it,” Leander finally said. He felt like he was turning his back on them. Leaving them at the mercy of whoever held Kristo captive. Once those men realized what kind of force they were up against, they would take decisive action, and what would happen if all three men got killed? Leander would never be able to live with himself. They needed him—and Wynn needed him, too. His own safety came last.

“You don't have to like it. Just take Chey and go. We've got it covered,” Sander said.

Leander debated. Hesitated again. Thought through all the consequences and probabilities.

One thing looked certain: if he didn't get back to California in three days,
he
would be the one six feet under.

. . .

Wynn paged through results on her phone, frowning at the screen. Out of sheer boredom, to combat her restlessness, she'd decided to look Mister Nathaniel Morgan up on the internet. Maybe there was a ton of information about him that would help answer some questions.

There were a
lot
of Nathaniel Morgans that turned up in the search. She paged through another, and another. Some had photos, some did not. It was almost impossible to tell whether any of the non-photos ones were Leander's father. Those of the wrong age she discarded out of hand, but it didn't narrow down the field nearly as much as she wished.