The Royal Elite: Mattias (20 page)

“Wait, wait.” Franklin licked his lips and ceased prying at Mattias's arm. He exhaled, then said, “It was me. Just me. I coordinated the whole thing.”

“Really.” Mattias didn't believe him. “How did you hear those odd rumors about an Elite group, and who tipped you off about where I would be?”

“There have
been
rumors. For a long time. The people in this cabal have become a serious thorn in my side, purely for business reasons. You of all people know that not every deal is as squeaky clean as we want it to be. I've heard what went on in your family, Mattias. We're both aware that some arrangements come with skeletons attached. So don't pretend that your family name hasn't been dragged through the same mud as the rest of us.”

Mattias and the other members of the Elite knew that a few rumors existed about their activities. They also knew that they were a thorn in many people's sides with their penchant for breaking up murders and kidnapping. And Carr wasn't all wrong about his own family, or some of their dealings. It didn't appease him, however. Mattias had to make sure Carr wasn't working with anyone else.

“Who was your inside man?”

Carr hesitated.

“Who told you where to find me?” Mattias asked again, applying a little more pressure with the muzzle.

“No one. A shooter at the scene tagged the vehicle you and the girl were in. Out in front of the manor, when you nearly killed my man. We knew where you were the whole time.”

“And Alannah? Was there a hit out on her?” Mattias was starting to see the bigger picture, one puzzle piece at a time. Murder hadn't been on the assassins agenda—drugging and capturing Mattias had been. They'd used Alannah's kidnapping to lure him—or who they suspected to be a member of the Royal Elite—away from Morano's house, knowing there was too much security there to get someone out any other way. In the next instant, Carr confirmed it.

“No. We planted that information in the lower ranks to lure the 'Royal Elite' out. We knew she would be at the gala, as well as Cleary.”

“We?”

“The men I hired for this exercise.”

“I'd hardly call this an exercise. You could have gotten someone killed. So your whole plan was to lure whoever might have been in the group with a fake assassination claim on Alannah Astbury, and take down as many as you could. You never thought about suitors, or other people revolving around her life.” Mattias refused to admit or acknowledge his part in the Royal Elite. No matter what Franklin knew, or thought he knew, those words would never come out of Mattias's mouth. Not here, not under these circumstances.

“Where is Alannah?”

“Offsite.”

“Offsite
where?
I won't ask again.
”
Mattias didn't believe Alannah was at another location. Someone could have sent Franklin that short video, however, so Mattias went through the motions, prepared to do whatever it took to find the heiress.

“For a man who denies being in this exclusive group, you sure know your way around self defense and weaponry,” Franklin said, ignoring Mattias's questions. He said, “If I tell you where she is, then you have no reason not to shoot me. No, I think I'll keep that information to myself.”

“All the men in my family are well versed in self defense. How many guards are on your property?” Mattias felt the press of time like an anvil on his back. He couldn't linger here too long. “I'll find her one way or another. Your cooperation might not save your life, but it might save someone else you love and treasure.”

“Three, just three guards.”

“Now Franklin, your Rolodex is right over there on your desk--”

“Five. Two that patrol the grounds, one at the gate, and two in the foyer.”

Mattias wasn't sure he believed that, either. With a sinister whisper in Franklin's ear, he said, “Remember. I've got your name now. It won't take me any time at all to have the name of every person who means anything to you in my possession. Call off your dogs, cease these games. If you had ended my life, you would have brought international attention right to your feet, and somehow, I think you'd like to avoid that much scrutiny.”

Franklin tensed and drew a breath to speak. Mattias didn't give him the chance. Leaning back, he brought the butt of the gun down on the back of Franklin's head with just enough force to knock him out.

Releasing the older man after he slumped in the seat, Mattias went to the desk and grabbed a small organizer off the top. Pushing it into the waistband of his pants, he stalked for the door.

“Mister Carr, when do you want Devon--” The security guard stopped half in and half out of the office when he spotted Mattias. He reached for his weapon. “Freeze!”

Mattias didn't hesitate. Bringing up the gun, he shot the guard high in the shoulder. Pitching backward, the guard tumbled into the hall beyond.

Somewhere on a lower floor, a woman screamed.

It was now or never. Galvanized (and frightened half to death) by the gunshot, Alannah let loose a blood curdling scream. Her eyes might be covered and the man might have control of her hands but her mouth was fair game. Realistically, she thought it was probably a useless ploy that could easily get her killed. Lacking another strategy, she used the best one at hand.

Shoved forward, she stumbled and cracked her hip against either a small table or a banister. Struggling, fighting with the man—who was taller and stronger than she imagined—Alannah twisted her shoulders in an attempt to get her hands free. Although the bindings were snug around her wrists, her hands were no longer tied together.

Struck in the cheek by an elbow, Alannah blinked stars from her vision as the snarling, angry fellow bulled her into another room. She assumed it to be a bedroom when her thigh glanced off what felt like the corner of a mattress. He slapped away her hand when she reached for the blindfold and trapped both arms behind her back.

“Shut up!” the man whispered against her ear.

“I'm in here! In this room!” Alannah thought it imperative that she make noise, do anything she could in case the police had miraculously arrived. Frustrated at the blindfold, afraid that the man might cause her grievous injury at any second, Alannah continued to make it difficult for him to maneuver her around.

“
Don't.”

It took Alannah a moment to realize he wasn't talking to her. She knew by the sudden way he stopped wrestling with her, and the outward way he directed his voice.

“I'm being held against my will, please--” Alannah's plea for help ended with the abrupt clap of the assailant's hand over her mouth.

“I'm not kidding, don't come one step closer,” her captor said to someone else in the room. One hand clamped around her body, palm muffling her protests, he used the other to trap her arms against her sides. “It'll take me less than a second to snap her neck.”

“And I guarantee that you won't finish flinching before I put a bullet right between your eyes.”

Alannah wilted with relief.
Mattias.
He was alive and, judging by the steely edge to his voice, unhappy to find her in this predicament. Trapped against her captor's body, Alannah ceased struggling. If Mattias could get a clear shot, she didn't want to make it harder on him and possibly be hit by accident.

“Wrong,” the man said, adjusting his position a fraction to put her more directly in front of him. Using her as a shield.

Before Alannah knew what happened, the hand disappeared from over her mouth and something sharp pressed against her throat. Sharp, like the tip of a blade. She could feel the way the man hovered at her back, making himself a much smaller target. Not only that, he used his other arm to shift and move her body, clearly attempting to force Mattias to second guess using the gun. In motion, his odds of hitting her increased.

“Put the gun down,” the man said.

“Where was your boss having you take her?” Mattias asked.

“He's not my boss any longer. She was,
is
, worth more to me than what that bastard pays. Now
put the gun down.”
The stranger tightened his hold on Alannah.

“Gone rogue, hm? Your greed will cost you dearly. I'll give you three seconds to release her,” Mattias replied. He started counting backwards.
Three. Two. One.

Tensing with fear, Alannah squeezed her eyes closed behind the blindfold. She dismissed the idea of moving quickly to one side or the other to help Mattias get a better shot, worrying that she might inadvertently make him miss his mark. The tip of the blade pricked her skin, bringing a dot of blood to the surface.

Then the man flew backward as the
pop
of a gunshot rang out. Thrown sideways, she landed hard against a chair, catching herself at the last second. Sounds of a struggle began and ended as she straightened, reaching for the blindfold. She ripped it up and off, tossing it to the side.

Mattias loomed over the prone body on the floor, the butt of his gun recoiling from a strike. Deadly and sleek, he divested the perpetrator of his blade and stepped away, meeting her eyes.

“Are you hurt?” he inquired.

Alannah wanted to ask him the same when she got a good look at the bruises and cuts on his face. What she did instead was throw her arms around his neck and hug him tight. “I'm fine, I'm all right. You got here in time.”

“Good. We can't linger,” he said, squeezing her with one arm.

That was exactly what she wanted to do. Linger there with the feel of his strong body pressing against her, breathing the masculine scent unique to Mattias. If they had been anywhere else, she would have. Leaning back, she made eye contact, staring at him while he stared at her. She thought she recognized relief in his gaze, a sentiment, she knew, mirrored in her own.

“No, you can't. We need to be gone from here in the next five minutes,” a voice said from the doorway.

Mattias reacted the instant the words hit the air. He pushed her behind him while swinging the gun toward the silhouette framed by hallway lights. A moment later, he relaxed.

“You almost got yourself shot,” Mattias said, lowering the gun.

“I might have liked it,” Ahsan retorted.

Alannah, tense with fresh anxiety, stepped up to Mattias's side. Knowing the Prince had back up on the scene helped ease the stiffness in her shoulders. Ahsan was right, though. They needed to leave before anyone else unexpectedly showed up.

“Let's go,” Mattias said with a gesture to the door, glancing down at her face one last time.

“I owe you both. Thank you,” Alannah said, glancing from one man to the other. On the way out of the room, falling into step between Ahsan and Mattias, Alannah began untwisting the strips of satin material around her wrists.

“We're only doing what anyone else would do,” Ahsan stated, leading the way down the stairs. A few bodies littered the floor in the foyer and elsewhere.

Alannah couldn't tell if they were dead or alive. She was struck by how silent Ahsan's advance into the homestead had been, how dangerous an adversary he must be. Like Mattias.

At the front door stood Chayton, long hair caught back at the nape in a ponytail. He had a weapon in hand and a no nonsense set to his features. It couldn't be coincidence, she knew, that both Ahsan and this man were here now. The same ones who had come to her and Mattias's rescue at the manor.

“Leander's finishing a ground sweep, taking care of any more guards,” Ahsan said on the way to a black SUV. “Soon as he gets here, we can go.”

“I'm sure there's an interesting story about how you found us,” Mattias said, holding the back passenger door for Alannah.

“Chayton paid another visit to Alannah's kidnapper, under the radar you understand, and came away with a name and address,” Ahsan replied with a fast grin.

Seating herself next to Mattias in the back of the vehicle, Alannah considered the implications while she regarded the byplay between Mattias and Ahsan. They acted like a well oiled machine, working together in seamless unity. Now a fourth name, one she didn't recognize, had been added to the mix. A man, Leander, who was apparently as well versed in weaponry and protection as the rest of them.

Not for a second did she believe that there wasn't more to this story. More to these men of royal or elite blood than met the eye.

Maybe later, when they were somewhere safe, Mattias, realizing it was pointless to keep her in the dark any longer, would produce a satisfactory explanation.

The hours it took to drive back to Ruben Morano's stronghold tested Mattias's patience in ways he didn't expect. It wasn't just coming down off the adrenaline rush that kept him restless, but the proximity of Alannah. Her scent, the shape of her body outlined by moonlight coming in the SUV windows. The way she secreted glances his way didn't go unnoticed, either, and once or twice, he looked over to find her watching him. As on the garden chessboard, there existed something unspoken between them. He could almost feel her desire to reach over and touch him, to lean in and make contact. Only Ahsan, Chayton and Leander's presence prevented Mattias from following through. He also recognized the questions in her eyes, the same damn questions that had already caused so much friction between them. It was a volatile combination and he forced himself to switch his attention to the window while the miles rolled away under the tires.

He discovered on the way from Leander that there was a situation requiring his attention back in Latvala. Although Leander spoke in the Latvala tongue, the caution with which he spoke and how he phrased his words let Mattias know that whatever was going on, it was serious. Leander would not be swayed, even in another language, to explain in depth. Mattias didn't push; if Leander was adamant about holding back until they were alone, he had good reason.

To assuage Ahsan's query, Mattias informed the men of Cleary and Dean Astbury's tension, and that Franklin Carr had likely blackmailed Cleary to be a distraction at Morano's. The man they suspected to be a hit man—who had promptly disappeared from the manor—probably worked for Carr as well. Another person to be activated should one of the other plans fail. Alannah added little to the conversation, piping up once to confirm there had been discord between her father and Cleary.