Dark Warrior Untamed (31 page)

Grey was mildly insulted, but he was willing to try anything. “And if he won’t come down?”

Sandor shrugged. “At least we’ll know he’s still here and then we wait.”

Grey got out of the car and headed for the door, pausing to make sure his shirt was tucked in and his jacket hid his gun. Inside the lobby, he headed straight for the desk, glad to see that a woman was on duty. He doubted a man would have succumbed as easily to his charm.

The woman looked up as he approached. “Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, I’m here to pick up Lawrence Harcourt to take him to the airport. Can you give me his room number so I can help him with his luggage?”

She looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, but he called a shuttle to take him to the airport. They couldn’t have left more than five minutes ago. The van stops along the way, so he would have been better off waiting for you.”

Grey quickly switched gears, trying to look disappointed. “I knew I shouldn’t have picked up a quick bite on the way. My boss is
not
going to be happy. Mr. Harcourt isn’t the type to ignore poor service.”

The clerk smiled sympathetically. “But he makes up for it by ignoring good service, doesn’t he?” Then
she glanced back toward the office door behind her. “Whoops, I probably shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

“Nothing but the truth. Well, I guess I’ll go face the music.” He took a step back, looking worried.

The woman took pity on him. “Listen, if your boss calls, I’ll tell him that Harcourt decided to leave early and didn’t bother to cancel your services. That much is true.”

“Thanks, luv. I appreciate it.” Grey winked at her.

“You’re welcome.” Her smile heated up a notch. “And by the way, I love the accent.”

G
rey slid into the car and started the engine. “Call Rolf and warn him that Harcourt took a shuttle to the airport. They unload on the lower level of the parking garage.”

Sandor hit Rolf’s number on speed dial. “Do you want them to snatch him or save the fun for you?”

“We can’t afford to make a public spectacle of this, not with that detective already on us. If they can get a clear shot at grabbing him, tell them to go for it. Otherwise, keep him in sight until we get there and figure something out.”

“Will do.”

While Sandor relayed the instructions, Grey maneuvered through traffic quickly, but without drawing unwanted attention. In his head, he imagined the sweet taste of Harcourt’s fear even as he maintained outward control. Later, when they had the man in custody, Grey would harvest all the information the elitist snob had on the attacks.

Once Grey had learned everything he could, Harcourt’s fate would be in Kerry’s hands. Would she be able to take the hard stance required by Kyth law? God, he hoped so. If she couldn’t, if she wavered
at all, she might as well paint a target on her chest. Even if this current rebellion failed, it wouldn’t be long before some other fool tried the same thing.

“Tell me, is Kerry up to this?”

Sandor didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “She’s stronger than you think.”

Which didn’t exactly answer his question. “This is going to get bloody before it’s over. We have to handle it right or every Kyth out there with a God complex will be making a play for the throne.”

“Kerry’s smart enough to know that. She may have had the role of Dame dropped in her lap with no warning, but she’s a fast learner. She could’ve walked away and didn’t. With Ranulf beside her, they would’ve given Judith and her Consort a run for their money even back in their prime.”

Sandor paused. “And with Piper being … well, Kerry’s out for blood. We all are.”

The mention of Piper’s name cut through Grey’s chest, but it strengthened his resolve. Sandor’s conviction that Kerry would see justice done was also a comfort.

“Better call Rolf for an update. We’re here.”

•   •   •

In the end, the hunt was disappointingly short. Grey and Sandor parked in the garage and ran for the sky bridge while Rolf and his men blocked the terminal side. Even though the aristocrat wasn’t yet in sight, Grey could sense the man’s turmoil and savored the pungent spice of his fear. He inhaled deeply, drawing
power from Harcourt’s churning emotions. This was going to be good.

Grey stopped himself, not liking where his thoughts were taking him. No wonder they had laws forbidding feeding off the darker, more addictive emotions.

His cell rang. Rolf gave him a brief report and hung up. “They’ve spotted him just ahead.”

Sandor smiled. “Let’s get the bastard.”

As yet unaware that he was being tracked, Harcourt started across the sky bridge toward the terminal. When he was about halfway across, Rolf and the others stepped out to block his way. Looking for an escape, he wheeled around only to find Grey waiting only a few feet away.

“What’s the matter, Lawrence? Don’t you have a minute for an old friend?”

Harcourt didn’t answer, but once again tried to reach the terminal. Grey walked in step with him as he headed for the escalator behind Rolf, probably figuring the Talions wouldn’t risk a major incident if he could reach the main concourse. Wrong. This time, they’d do whatever it took to get the job done.

“Get your men out of my way, Danby. I have a plane to catch.”

Grey reached out to brush a speck of imaginary dust off his quarry’s shoulder, enjoying watching Harcourt flinch. “There, that looks better. I have to ask why you’re in such a hurry to leave Seattle. I can’t tell you how hurt Grand Dame Kerry is that one of her faithful retainers was in town and didn’t stop by.”

Grey crowded closer. “You
are
a faithful retainer,
aren’t you, Lawrence? I would hate to learn otherwise.”

Now in a state of near panic, Harcourt shoved past Grey and retreated back across the bridge, heading for the questionable safety of the garage. He skidded to a halt when Sandor stepped into sight. Slowly the Talions all started forward, herding Harcourt right back toward where Grey waited.

“What are you doing, Danby?”

“We’re still waiting for your answer, Lawrence. Are you loyal to our Dame?”

Harcourt’s blood ran cold. Oh, God, he was a dead man. They already knew the answer to that question. It was there in the brittle anger flaming hot in their eyes. How had they found him?

Like that mattered. His chance of escaping was nil; his chance of surviving only slightly better. He had to try, though.

“You have no right to interfere with my plans, Danby. Call off your dogs.”

Rather than look insulted, a young Talion coming from the other end of the sky bridge smiled. “Woof, woof.”

His companions laughed and joined in, barking softly as the pack closed the circle around Harcourt. He spun around, looking for a weak link in the wall of angry warriors or, failing that, some hint of sympathy for his plight. He didn’t find it.

“I didn’t do it, Danby. I swear it wasn’t me.”

Ice-colored flames danced in Grey’s eyes. “You
didn’t do what, Lawrence?”

He fumbled for an answer that wouldn’t sentence him to death. “I’m not the one behind the attacks on the Dame. I swear it.”

The whole group took another two steps toward him, causing his knees to buckle. “Please, Grey. You know me. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Like what, Lawrence? Mail a letter bomb? Send threatening e-mails? Blow up Ranulf’s Packard? Kill Piper Ryan, the Dame’s assistant? Tell me, Lawrence, did you know Piper was also Kerry Thorsen’s sister? Though she was much, much more than that to me.”

The Dame’s sister? Dear God, what had Adele done? He’d heard tales about the terror of being hunted by the Talions, but never expected to experience it himself. “Please. I’m not the guilty party.”

Grey moved closer so Lawrence could feel the rage flowing off him in waves. “You know, Sandor, I think I believe our good friend Lawrence. He’s too much of a coward to attack the Dame or her people directly.”

Grey brushed his hand over Lawrence’s shoulder again and then straightened his tie, tugging it a bit too tight. “So, no, you’re not guilty of any of that.”

Grey stepped back, but Lawrence’s relief was short-lived, because the Talion’s open hand lashed out and collided with his face, jarring his teeth and drawing blood. “But you bloody well know who
is
behind the attacks and you did nothing to stop them. For that, you will face the Dame’s justice.”

Grey shoved Harcourt stumbling back into the waiting
arms of his fellow warriors. “Rolf, take our friend here back to the hotel and lock him in. I’ll deal with him later.”

Hands latched onto Lawrence’s arms with bruising strength. Desperate to escape, to live, he fought to break free. “Wait! Please, for God’s sake, listen to me. I can help you, Grey.”

Sandor answered instead. “How could a sniveling coward like you help us, Harcourt?”

There was no hope, none at all. Better to throw Adele and her boyfriend to these wolves than face the Dame’s justice alone.

“It’s Adele. She’s gone stark crazy. I came here to try to stop her, but she won’t listen. Adele and that street scum she’s been fucking are behind all of this.”

Neither Sandor nor Grey looked shocked by the revelation. Holy hell, they’d played him. The Dame’s pet killers had known all along that Adele was the culprit. Obviously that bit of information wasn’t going to earn him any kind of a reprieve.

But maybe he had one more weapon in his arsenal.

“I know where they are.”

•   •   •

Piper wanted to stomp her feet or throw something in pure frustration. The second window was sealed shut, too. She didn’t have time to chip away decades worth of dried paint.

Looking around the room, she considered her options. She could always break the glass in the window,
hoping to draw the neighbors’ attention. Her captors would also come running, so it would have to be a last ditch effort.

Next on her agenda was to check the drawers. Surely there had to be a blade of some kind—a razor, scissors—anything she could use to cut herself free. She started with the bedside table. Nothing in there but a half empty box of condoms. She shoved the drawer closed.

Moving on to the dresser, she had better luck. Under a jumble of socks and dingy underwear, she found a small pocketknife. Hopping her way back to the bed, she began sawing on the rope. The knife finally cut through the last strand, and she ignored the painful tingling as normal circulation returned. Then she started chipping away at the paint on the windowsill.

She’d no more than scratched the surface when the bedroom door banged opened, and her captors filed into the room. Piper backed up at the sight of a pair of guns pointed at her.

Wes motioned toward the knife in her hand. “Toss that over here.”

She did as he said, knowing the small blade would provide no defense against bullets.

He smirked and said, “See, Adele. Just like I said—thirty minutes and she’s as good as new.”

Adele rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, another job well done, Wes. Now what? I can’t wait to let her lover know she really didn’t die in the Packard. Imagine his joy, up until we kill her. It would be more fun in person,
but safer over the phone.”

Her utter calm made Piper ill. This woman had more than a few screws loose. How on earth could she look like the quintessential ingénue and talk about death and destruction as casually as she would the latest sales at the mall?

As for Wes, he smiled at Piper, obviously considering the possible ways to murder her. Piper rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to ward off the chill of his dead eyes. The way he got off watching things explode was seriously twisted, but then his girlfriend wasn’t exactly normal either.

While the two of them pondered her fate, Piper did her best to ignore them, concentrating instead on something positive, something good. She’d found her sister, which was definitely good, although she dearly wished she’d told her sooner. From the first, Ranulf had treated her as a little sister, all gruff and protective. She’d never thanked him for that. Sandor and the others had made room in their lives for her without hesitation.

God, but if this was to be her last day on earth, she’d give anything to go back in time and tell Grey that she loved him.

She couldn’t just stand there waiting for these sickos to decide how she was going to die. If she had to
go, it would be on her terms, not theirs.

In the space of a heartbeat, she lunged for the bedside lamp and heaved it at Adele. With aim so perfect it was almost uncanny, it hit the woman right on the temple, driving her straight to the floor. All her years of playing softball finally paid off.

“Adele!”

With Wes’s attention temporarily diverted, Piper sprinted out of the room, her whole being focused on escaping. She made it across the living room, and her hand was reaching for the door when, for the second time in two days, she slammed into an invisible wall. Adele’s doing no doubt. Then Wes grabbed a fistful of Piper’s hair and yanked backward, throwing her to the floor.

Piper came up fighting, swinging her fists and kicking Wes in the shins. When he caught her right hand in a painful grip, she went after his eyes with her left. Then the press of cold metal against the back of her head brought it all to a complete stop.

The click of a gun being cocked echoed in the sudden silence. Piper froze.

“It’s the blue house at the far end of the block.” Harcourt pulled out his cell phone. “Drop me at the corner. If I can catch a cab back to the airport, I may still make my flight.”

Oh, this was going to be good. Sandor looked at Harcourt as if he’d grown a second head before meeting Grey’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Do you want
to tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Harcourt was already reaching for the door handle as Sandor slowed for a stop sign.

“Our plan, Lawrence. You see, it involves you.”

Grey smiled and pressed the barrel of his gun against their prisoner’s head. Harcourt immediately slumped in his seat. Good. Now that he had the man’s attention, Grey slid across to the other side of the car and watched Harcourt’s expression.

“You see, Lawrence, Sandor and I figure Adele won’t be inclined to invite two Talions in for tea and biscuits. But how could she possibly turn her own father away? Especially since he’s had a change of heart and wants to help her.”