Kingdom Come (20 page)

“Answer the question.”

His eyes flashed at her demand, but he continued to smile. “I am amused how little you know.”

“What’s that supposed—”

“For example,” he cut her off, “You know next to nothing about Prince Edric. You don’t know the sordid history of his people or what he has done in his past.”

She glared at him silently.

“Did he tell you he fought in a few of your wars? Fighting for the side that furthered his agenda.” He leaned forward to look her in the eye. “It was not yours.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “And?”

He smiled, baring his teeth. “Does that not bother you? That he could change his mind, switch sides, and decide that you are not worth his time? After all, where is he now? Was it Prince Edric who retrieved you?”

His words were poison, but a part of her was listening. Edric had not come for her. If the Dorn knew where she was, surely he had to know. No. He would have come for her if he knew. She could feel it. He was looking for her. She narrowed her eyes at Caern.

“What are you getting out of this?”

Amusement filled his face. “What am I getting?” He huffed. “You have helped me start a war,
Miss Ashley.”

“I haven’t helped you do anything,” she growled.

He waved her off. “Perhaps, not voluntarily.”

“You’re psychotic. And what have you done with Candace?”

Again, she saw the flicker of amusement. “The woman you were living with.” He shrugged. “She was absent when my soldiers retrieved you.”

Abby frowned, thinking of the voices speaking to Candace. “So, who were they firing at?”

“Russian troops. Apparently, someone called in a favor.” That it was Edric went unspoken. She supposed he could not admit that his early comments were lies.

She smirked at him. “Someone.”

Caern gave her a dark smile. “When he finds out all there is to know about you, he will leave. He will go and he will never come back.”

She mentally flinched, but held onto her smile. “I’m sure you think that.” He had to be wrong.

He stared at her long enough that she shifted uneasily, then he smiled. “By the way, your image looks very pleasing in my chambers.”

She gave him a blank look. “What?”
He must mean her photograph.

“The one I took from your quarters.” He leaned back in his chair. “Very pleasing indeed.” He just laughed, as she launched
herself at him.

…

The lawn of the White House was brightly lit, making their approach clear to any who cared to look. Edric led his guards straight to the south door. Two Secret Service agents stood just inside the entryway. They appeared relaxed until Desta fired the arrow. The first agent went down silently.

The second had a split second to grab for his gun, before he joined his comrade. Edric nodded over his shoulder to Desta and gestured for her to take point. They pushed forward through the White House, avoiding as many agents as possible and neutralizing the rest.

He was still down the hall of the residence when a woman screamed. Leaving Konani and Limek to stand guard, he stalked into the bedchamber and glanced around. The president and a woman he assumed was the man’s wife lay on the large bed. The woman stared at him with wide eyes, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders. As if had any interest in looking upon her.

He turned his attention to the president.

“I was going to contact you,” the man said in a shaky voice.

Edric smiled coldly. “Were you?”

“Yes. We received news about Miss Ashley.”

Edric moved toward him. “Tell me.” He ignored the man’s cowering wife and loomed over his side of the bed. “What do you know?”

The president cleared his throat. “She was taken by a terrorist group—”

“I already know that,” Edric interrupted. “Tell me something I do not already know!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” The man licked his lips nervously, glancing around as if he expected reinforcements. “One of the Russian border patrols attacked their base several hours ago.”

Edric frowned. He already knew Russia was going to take action, but it was sheer idiocy to engage those who held Abby. She could be injured. He found himself growling under his breath.

“And were they successful? Where is she?”

“They, uh, they were not.” The president winced, as Edric slammed his fist into the headboard.

“Where is she?” he snarled.

“I don’t know—“

“Lies! If you think I will not kill you in front of your mate, you are incorrect.”

The man blanched. “I don’t know where she is! I would tell you if I knew. All I know is a group of the Ukrainians left the compound with her and their van was found lying on its side about a mile away. That’s it. That’s all I know. Ms. Johnson and
Miss Ashley were gone. There were only the five bodies.”

Edric started to question him, when a bang came from the hallway.

“We are being overwhelmed, Your Highness,” Limek called down the hall.

Edric gestured for Desta and Roshan to join them. She gave the president a hateful look before she bowed out of the room. The yelling increased in volume, gunfire joining the barrage of sound. Voski and Nitya slipped out of the room to join the fray, leaving him alone with the president and his wife.

“If I do not get my mate back, I will consider it an act of war.”

The president’s gaze moved from the door to his. “Who says this is not an act of war?”

The emergence of his soldiers had obviously given the man a new influx of courage. Edric lips curled.

“When I declare war, you will know it.”

He started to turn away when a bullet tore into his arm, slipping between the plates of his armor. He snarled and spun to face his attacker and his eyes narrowed. Jackson stood just inside the doorway, gun still aimed at him. He wore a pleased smile.

“Your Majesty,” he sneered. “You thought seven of you could take the White House?”

Edric heard Desta shout from the hallway and the sound of breaking glass. Seconds later, a flash grenade filled the space with blinding light.

“Sounds like your guards are having a little trouble, Highness. Not the best of the best, huh?”

He bared his teeth. “Yes.”

“Stop this. Let us get you medical attention,” the president finally spoke up. Edric turned his head to watch the man climb from bed and throw on a robe over his pajamas. “Surely, it’s not worth all this.”

Edric narrowed his eyes. “I assume you mean Abigail Ashley is not worth all this?”

The president did not answer, his gaze flicking to Jackson.

“It’s difficult to believe you are capable of caring about someone. If even half the things in your file are true…” Jackson sneered. “Well, maybe Abigail is better off where she is.”

Edric took two steps toward him, before the gun discharged. He grunted in pain, as the bullet hit his other shoulder, but he continued forward.

“Who told you about me? Where did you get your information?”

Another bullet caught his leg and he staggered, falling to one knee.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Jackson said cryptically. “Maybe, if you were more forthcoming with tech, we would be more forthcoming with information. You’ve been pretty stingy from the beginning.”

The president and his wife slipped out of the room and Edric suddenly realized the hallway had fallen silent. He looked past Jackson to see a wall of Secret Service agents.

“What have you done with my guards?” he demanded, climbing to his feet.

Jackson eyed his healing wounds, a greedy gleam in his eye. “They left. Went running like dogs with their tails between their legs.” He shifted his weight and an ugly smile curved his lips. “I guess your little pet isn’t such a priority to them.”

Edric smiled to himself. The human was so interested in his own voice, he had not realized his gun was off target. Edric lunged. Jackson’s head fit between his hands perfectly and the squeal he let out just before he snapped his neck brought a cold smile to his face. He barely felt the bullets hit him.

An hour later, he sat in an empty cell, staring at the wall and thinking of Abby. The satisfaction he felt at killing Jackson had faded with the adrenalin. He was pleased
the man was dead, but it moved him no closer to getting Abby back. He was where he started.

The president had given him very little information. Russia had failed to get her back. He knew that, now. Aside from that, he was at a loss. His first inclination was to blame the president for not giving her security, but beyond his anger was a deep well of guilt.

He had failed her. Even if she did not realize it, her safety was his responsibility. He was not sure how he would handle the disappointment in her eyes. He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. She would never want to bond with him now.

As the darkness of despair began to pull at him, the faint sound of explosions reached his ears. He slowly raised his head. It was too soon for his guards to be back with reinforcements. His mother never granted a war request in so little time. It must be the humans preparing.

The explosions came again, very familiar with a sound like a deep sonic boom. He started to lower his head again, when the door down the hall banged open and he heard running feet.

“He doesn’t leave, you hear me. I want all of you on that cell. Nobody gets by, you got me? Nobody.” The words were barked by someone out of view, before eight soldiers ran down the hall.

He noticed none of them looked at him. They clutched at their weapons, standard issue rifles. Nothing compared to the weaponry his people would bring. He leaned back against the wall and waited. The explosions fell silent, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. A moment later, he heard the charge of Desta’s favorite weapon.

The ceiling above the guards vanished, a ball of fire consuming everything in its path. Before the last of the flames had faded, Desta leapt into the gaping hole she had made. She turned her weapon on the guards and, smiling fiercely, sent a burst of flames at them.

The fire, close to the temperature on the surface of the sun, left nothing behind. She turned to face him and propped her weapon on her shoulder.

“Your Majesty. I apologize for the wait.” She scowled. “I was ready to come back with my personal arsenal, but Her Majesty insisted I wait on the military.”

He barely resisted the urge to smile. “Forgiven. Release me.”

She pulled a canister from her hip and tipped it over the meal lock. The flash acid ate through the lock without spreading beyond it and she kicked open the door. He strode into the hallway and glanced around. The door at the end of the corridor led to the stairs, he remembered from when they brought him in.

He jogged toward it, Desta behind him, and ascended the stairs. The first floor was entirely empty aside from the mangled and singed desks that had survived. He quickly crossed the space and stepped out the front doors into complete mayhem. Humans ran through the streets, some shooting at his soldiers, but most simply panicking.

“The civilians?”

“As you have said, we are sparing the unarmed humans,” Desta answered.

He nodded. Abby would not be pleased if he killed her people, but one of them had already forfeited his life. He set his jaw and climbed into the waiting enlil. As it rose into the air, more of the humans screamed. Desta huffed in annoyance, and he silently agreed.

The trip to the White House took less than a minute. The building was under siege when they landed. His people had completely destroyed the West Wing in their attack, leaving the way free. There were no Secret Service agents in sight when he strolled into the south entrance, but he could hear the muffled sound of fighting from the floor above.

“Your Majesty,” Nitya called from the staircase. “The president is in his private chambers. Alone.”

Edric cocked his head to the side. “How was that managed?”

“His wife has been removed from the premises and all of his guards have fled or been slain. He is alone and unarmed.” There was no mistaking her proud smile.

He nodded. “Very good, Gibil Nitya.”

She gave him a deep bow and turned back the way she had come. “I will lead you to him, Your Highness.”

He followed her up the stairs and down the hall to the president’s bedroom. When he opened the door and saw the man cowering on the bed, a burst of rage went through him. He imagined Abby injured and alone, huddled on the floor much like the leader of her country. And it was partially this man’s fault.

“Do you have anything useful to say?”

The man visibly jerked at the sound of his voice. “I don’t know what you want, but—”

“Silence!”

Edric prowled forward into the room, stopping next to the bed. He grabbed a handful of the man’s shirt and jerked him forward until they were nose to nose.

“You know exactly what I want. Now tell me.”

“It was Caern,” the president said. “It was his idea. All of it. He wanted to start a war, make you break the treaty.”