Warrior Prince (4 page)

She danced, every alluring movement painting the space around her with a sensual beauty. Potent vitality crackled, framing her in a fascinating halo under the harsh strobe lights.

The human leaned down and…

Adrian said something I didn't hear. Everything else ceased to exist.

That kid was devouring her face.

She'd stop him. And if she showed any indication of resistance, I could get to her in two seconds.

But she didn't push him away.

Hands curled into fists.

"Your Highness." Adrian's insistent voice finally broke through. "We should get the others and —"

"Wait."

Aubrey and Chloe were safe. My men wouldn't let them out of their sights.

But the
sondaleur
was under my care. This was between me and her.

I maneuvered through the crowd to the corner of the dance floor. Half-hidden in the darkness, I watched. She was playing a risky game. Testing the boundaries, finding distraction and release in such a public place.

It was childish. Foolish.

Contemplating what might have happened if Aquidae got to her first sent a shiver through me.

But what also bothered me was the way the human looked at her. As if she were his prize for the night.

He didn't realize she was playing with him like a toy. He lacked the intelligence to sense the fortified walls around her and the insight to understand what lay beyond it.

She could do a hell of a lot better.

Leaning against him, her slender arms reached up around his neck. She closed her eyes and arched her back in an utterly feminine gesture.

His mouth brushed against the tattoo on her shoulder and irritation flared. I remembered the first time I saw the wave peeking out from her top in that San Aurelio alley. He didn't know what that symbol meant.

Aura flickered as she used her Virtue. Her mouth tilted up in amusement.

Nerves tautened. Oh, she knew what she was doing.

Her eyes suddenly snapped open and swept the club. Almost as if she sensed me.

I waited. When her gaze finally met mine, I didn't miss anything. Not the surprise, the anger, or the resentment that flashed across her face.

I found you.

She glared.
Oh really?

Her posture turned deliberately seductive, body neatly fitting against his. Hips swayed, bold eyes telling me she didn't give a fuck what I thought. A way of preserving independence within a world that dictated our roles.

Her defiant expression dared me to take it away from her. But I didn't want to take it from her.

I wanted to find it for myself.

She slowly made her way across the floor.

To me.

That tiny, burgundy dress clung to every curve, showing off long, shapely legs and flawless skin. Thick hair fell gently to the small of her back. Full lips glistened.

The atmosphere shifted and my pulse started to race. Something I didn't fully understand twisted inside. Admiration. Need. An ache from being alone for so long.

The tangled mess of tension snapped like a band stretched too far. Desire exploded, a haze of heat ricocheting through my senses.

I wanted to lose myself in the scent of jasmine and rose, sink into the sultriness of her voice. Taste those lips to see if they were as soft as they looked. Slide my fingers over that satiny skin and bury them into caramel locks of hair.

I wanted to make those walls fall. Discover if what was behind them was the same as what was in me.

Longing blazed through my veins, the sensation heightening when I realized she looked at me with the same intensity.

The same want.

She froze. Uncertainty flickered across her face and seeing it was like a punch to the gut.

I was supposed to ensure her safety. Not pant over her like a damned schoolboy. Like every other male here.

She was an ondine. The
sondaleur
. Her life meant so much more than this.

I walked toward her, silently cursing my stupid loss of control. She was getting under my skin, sparking a reckless awareness that compromised my ability to carry out basic responsibilities.

It was the kind of feeling that could bring a man to his knees.

The mask settled on her face again. That wasn't going to work on me like it did with the human.

I stopped mere inches from her. Close enough to see the faint flutter of the pulse on her neck, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the confusion still burning in her eyes. Everything that contradicted her practiced veneer of indifference.

Years of being the Warrior Prince provided the brutal discipline needed to resist taking another step.

Because the small distance separating us was the only thing keeping me from crossing a very dangerous line.

"What do you think you're doing?"

SIX

Augustin must've given her the key to the Prophecy Room.

That was the only plausible reason for her to be in the library.

Rhian's position prevented us from openly sharing details of the
sondaleur
prophecy. If we provided Kendra with classified information, the Council could accuse the Governor of molding her granddaughter for the position.

The fact that Augustin hadn't informed me ahead of time meant he'd improvised at the last moment. The
sondaleur
had once again caught us off-guard.

She spoke animatedly to Marcella. Her hair was up, exposing the delicate curve of her shoulder and the smooth line of her neck.

Amused, I remembered her reaction in the library. That fist was getting faster.

Marcella left to speak to a couple I vaguely recognized and Kendra made her way toward me. Thigh sheath? No. The balance of her gait was different. Blade was on her ankle tonight.

A teasing gleam lit up those eyes. "I swear you don't know how to have any fun at all."

"This is not exactly my idea of it."

"But you're royal." She tilted her head. "It's your kind of party. You should be relaxed, letting everyone suck up to you."

I laughed. "Kendra, not everything about being royal is enjoyable."

"So what would you consider fun?"

It'd been a long time since someone asked me that. Hell, it'd been a long time since I actually thought about it.

"Relaxing in a quiet room with a nice glass of scotch, listening to Bach."

"Are you serious, grandpa?" She shook her head. "Well, you should at least pretend to enjoy yourself tonight. I know I am, especially after the effort I put into getting ready."

She took a step back and circled. "Do you like my dress?"

How could I answer that? The delicate midnight blue confection highlighted the luminous strength constantly rippling around her.

She was breathtaking.

Untouchable.

"Yes."

That heated tension came again, the dangerous need uncoiling and stretching into the air.

There were moments, like now, when understanding flashed through her eyes. An awareness that we weren't so far apart.

What lay behind her walls called to me because it matched what was behind my own.

But we pretended otherwise. We needed that distance between us.

"
Sondaleur
." Relief surged through me at Rhian's interruption. "I've been looking all over for you."

Kendra scowled. "I was just speaking with Tristan."

The sound of my name on her lips sent another ache jolting through me. She'd called me that outside the club. Not my title. Not my job.

Rhian didn't approve. "Prince Belicoux has more important things to do than speak to you tonight. I need you to come with me. There are people I must introduce you to."

Her expression turned pleading. I shrugged, knowing better than to get between them. She looked like she wanted to drop-kick me.

She stalked off after Rhian and awareness prickled. I wasn't the only one watching.

He lounged near the ballroom entrance, his gaze focused on her with blatant interest. I didn't realize they knew each other.

The First Lieutenant was a strong chevalier. Clever. Determined.

A demillir.

My jaw clenched.

"Do you have an explanation for what he's doing?" a gentle voice asked.

Ignoring the squeezing sensation in my chest, I turned to her with a forced smile. "We have a bet on who'll stay the longest."

"There's no contest," Marcella said wryly. "The only reason he's lasted this long is because he's hiding behind that plant."

Gabe's muscular frame peeked through the branches of a tall, potted fern in the northeast corner of the ballroom. He could face an entire army of Aquidae without blinking an eye. But formal social events sent him running in the opposite direction.

"He might win."

As long as someone didn't trap him into a drawn out conversation about vacation properties and investment portfolios.

"Maybe." She studied me. "You don't look like you're having a terrible time, though."

I lifted my shoulder. "Experience."

That was partially true. The mask needed to handle these types of events came easily.

But tonight also wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Mainly because of a certain ondine who…was she skulking by the wall?

Ah. Avoiding the Rossays.

I watched her inch toward the exit. "How is everything progressing?"

"I spoke with Nanette earlier." Marcella sipped her champagne. "She agreed to support the motion. And the Moreauxs will likely back us."

Would it be enough? The LeVeqs, Blanchards, and Rosamunds would do everything to stop it. The Genevieves, Rossays, and Jourdain were wild cards.

"Do you think this time will be different?"

Kendra neared the door and I shifted, ready to follow. Oliver Moreaux caught up with her just as she was about to slip out.

"It has to be. Naida believed in it for so long. What she did while Rogue…" Marcella's voice trailed off and I glanced at her.

Hard determination shone in her eyes, a sharp contrast to the delicate beauty of her face.

The look was pure Irisavie.

"It's time Haverleau stopped failing her."

Oliver patted Kendra's arm. A comforting gesture from someone who'd once been a close friend of Ansel.

"I know," I said quietly.

She smiled, slipping back to her assigned Redavi role. "When my darling mate finally decides to let go of that plant, please tell him I'm in my mother's office."

I nodded. The Governor's health continued to decline and Marcella was her only heir. Larger goals needed to be accomplished.

Kendra moved to the dance floor, her face in profile. That dark loneliness I recognized wrapped around her.

She had to come to this on her own. All we could do was smooth the way as much as possible.

But the doubts remained.

Windows shattered, the sound cleaving through the elegant atmosphere. Glittering shards of glass sprayed across the gilded room in a lethal waterfall.

I was already in motion.

Black-clad figures leaped through the jagged holes in the windows facing the gardens. Screams erupted and pandemonium broke out as panicked guests surged toward the one exit.

The first dropped before it knew I was coming for it. Four moves and two more were dead.

Another lunged toward an ondine frozen with terror. Blade slashed through its neck then pierced the Origin. Black drops spattered across her pale skin and she stared at me in horror. Her hands lifted in a helpless gesture, mouth formed into an "O".

"Go!"

I pushed her toward the exit and she finally snapped into action. Crying, she ran toward the crowd, feet sliding on the blood already staining the floor.

Senses sharpened. Approximately two dozen. Chevaliers and my men contained most of them against the walls.

But a few were slipping through. Pulse accelerated.

Kendra
.

Balanced on the balls of her feet, she crouched in the center of the ballroom. Dress swirled in a wash of satin and crinoline and her blade glinted under the chandelier's lights. Favoring her left leg, she dodged the Aquidae coming at her.

She was hurt.

The ballroom shrank and fury roared to life.
Kouperet
blazed, slashing across its back in a diagonal. Warm liquid splashed across my face.

Two more strikes and it was down.

I circled. Daring another demon to come near her.

But they didn't. The others had maintained the perimeter.

Red and black smeared the marble, tables and chairs overturned and smashed under the onslaught. Bodies littered the once pristine dance floor.

It was over.

"Kendra. Kendra!"

She stared at the corpses, complexion stark white and expression blank with shock.

I touched her shoulders gently and searched for injuries. No blood or visible slices. The faint shadow of a bruise was developing on her shoulder. She'd probably twisted her ankle, too.

Her eyes finally met mine. Fear and adrenaline and the reality of the moment shimmered in their depths.

"Are you okay?"

She managed a shaky nod.

I exhaled, breath sounding ragged to my own ears. My arm encircled her shoulders and I pulled her to my side, removing the distance between us.

I didn't know if it was to reassure her or me.

Because it had been close.

Too close.

SEVEN

The prelude of Bach's fifth suite rose and fell in a mournful cry.

I braced my arm against the window frame and took in the still night. Moonlight spilled through the muted darkness, alighting on blooms lining the pathways below. The guest house's crimson pyramid roof gleamed like the bloody edge of a blade in the center of the Royal Gardens.

I rarely spent time in my official room at the Governing House, preferring the living quarters reserved for Academy gardinels on the far west side of campus.

But tonight I needed to be far from it.

Resting my forehead against my arm, I shut my eyes and took another sip. Scotch blazed a fiery path down my throat.

The warmth of her body felt branded on my skin. An indelible memory of soft curves nestling against hardened planes.