The Royal Hunter (24 page)

He was guided by the royal guard toward what looked like a solid wall. An invisible seam opened in the middle as he closed in, sliding soundlessly shut behind them after his transport had passed through. They were in a dimly lit tunnel that extended into darkness ahead. He’d come this route before, but last time there hadn’t been a solid wall of guards lining the edges of the platform. He was relieved to see Catriona was well prepared for his return with her
precious cargo, but as a guard stepped quickly forward, he nonetheless kept the security field up around his vehicle.

“I wish a direct audience with the queen,” he said. Not that he doubted they knew exactly why he was here, and with whom.

The guard nodded. “We will escort Ms. Trahaern inside.”

“You will escort both of us inside.”

The guard’s impassive expression didn’t alter one whit. “I am instructed only to bring her.”

“Then call in and get different instructions. We both go in, or she stays here behind the shield.” Archer knew, as well as the guard, that the shield would not hold up under their collective weaponry, but he also knew Catriona would not be happy if Talia’s life were in any way jeopardized in what should be a routine, if highly secure, transfer.

The guard acted exactly as Archer predicted. He pulled the mouthpiece wire down from his earpiece and spoke into it. Archer turned to Talia. She hadn’t moved. In fact, he wasn’t sure she was breathing. “You okay?”

She looked at him and made a valiant effort at a dry smile. “Define
okay
.”

He smiled. “That’s the way.”

“What’s happening?”

He took her hand, wishing he’d been able to touch her the entire time, relieved to have contact again. “We’re just getting clearance to go inside.”

She gripped his hand hard enough to shut down all blood supply. He didn’t mind. “Don’t worry, Catriona won’t want to argue about this, she’ll want you in and under her direct supervision as soon as possible.”

Talia seemed to relax a little, but she was still pale
and probably a bit unnerved at all the sudden changes.

“I’m sorry for all this, Tali,” he said abruptly. “What do you mean?”

“Bringing you here. Maybe I shouldn’t have. Maybe there was another way.”

“I tried to tell myself that, too.” She looked at him, gripped his hand even more tightly. “But if you hadn’t come to get me, someone else would have.”

Archer had thought the same thing, had woken up in a panicky sweat several times, dreaming that very same scenario.

“I’m glad it was you,” she said quietly.

“Yeah.” Then the guard was standing before them again. Archer merely lifted a brow.

The guard’s expression might have reflected just a bit of irritation as he nodded tightly. “Follow me.”

Archer grinned and shut down the shield. “Right, mate.” He turned to Talia. “Don’t get out until I’m on your side.”

A phalanx of guards surrounded him the instant he leaped from the car and followed as he moved around to her side. Another cadre approached Talia. Archer timed his move to slide in front of them and plant himself directly beside her, effectively blocking them all out. “Stand back. Don’t crowd her. She’s unused to this.”

Archer smiled when Talia stiffened and immediately began clambering out. “Don’t make me sound like a helpless idiot,” she whispered fiercely.

“Me? I’d never do that,” Archer said, taking her hand.

Talia snorted, then leaned back in and scooped up her backpack. He wondered if she’d go so far as to put that hideous hat on, but decided he’d slay the first man who so much as raised an eyebrow in her
direction if she did. But she left it squashed inside the front pocket and strapped the bag on her back.

She eyed the guards nervously as they stepped in and ran a full body scan over both of them, and her pack, but her back was ramrod-straight. Archer smiled again, proud of her and for once pleased with her natural regal bearing. It would only serve her well in this circumstance. Maybe later he’d have the chance to unbend that bearing a little.
Not the time to be thinking of that, mate
. But that didn’t stop his body from pondering it a while longer.

“Stay directly by my side. If you feel anything unusual or alarming, squeeze my hand and stop immediately.” He looked at her. “Ready?”

“Oh, yeah.” She smiled weakly. “I was born ready.”

He squeezed her hand, when what he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and deliver a lengthy, mind-blowing kiss. But neither of them could afford clouded thinking. A shame, that. He’d save it for later. And he intended there to be a later.

Archer nodded to the troops. “Lead on.”

They were surrounded four deep by the red and black suited men. Archer should have felt secure, but those damn hairs were lifting on his neck again. He kept keen eyes trained all along the tunnel and corridors, looking for the source of it. Likely there was surveillance of some kind. He’d felt it on his previous visit. But this was something more. It felt … menacing. He wondered where Chamberlain was and if any of the royal guard were in his private employ. Probably. Archer would insist that only the queen’s private guard be in charge of Talia’s security. They were handpicked by Catriona and most came from families that had been loyal to the Dalwyns for generations.

As they went deeper into the castle, the guards
peeled off, until they reached the queen’s private sector. Much to Archer’s relief, by the time they stood in front of the massive double doors that led to the queen’s quarters, their chaperones were entirely composed of the queen’s personal guard. Black suited with gold trim and eminently serious, they silently ushered them both in, motioned for them to be seated in plush, ornate chairs in a small antechamber, then dismissed themselves. Two remained inside the doors. Two more were positioned beside a large door on the opposite wall. Archer knew the remaining ones were stationed just outside.

So far he was pleased, at least as pleased as he could be. He had no doubt that Chamberlain was already well aware of Talia’s arrival. Had probably been somehow watching delivery through the passageways personally. But his instincts had calmed somewhat now that they were in the queen’s private chambers.

Before he could say a word to Talia, the doors on the opposite wall slid soundlessly open. A small woman with dark hair pulled back in a no-nonsense knot, also dressed in the black and gold uniform of the queen’s private staff, stepped out and crossed the sumptuous rug to where they were seated. Archer had encountered her before. She was the queen’s personal assistant.

She stopped before them, hands clasped in front, professional smile perfectly in place. “Welcome,” she said to Talia, who nodded, and glanced surreptitiously about at the magnificent surroundings.

Then the assistant turned to Archer and her smile abruptly disappeared. “You will be seen immediately.” The smile returned as she looked to Talia. “Please wait here.”

Confused, Archer looked at Talia, then back at
the woman. “Excuse me?” He’d assumed Talia would be all but rushed to the queen’s side, urged to perform her magic at once. In fact, Archer had been formulating plans to remain as close to her as possible, since he expected they would try to make him leave.

Perhaps that’s what this was about. The queen was going to thank him, pay him off, and have him escorted out. Well, she’d be rethinking that scenario shortly. He stood, intentionally using his towering height to his advantage. “Ms. Trahaern does not leave my side until I have personally delivered her to the queen.”

“Yes, well.” The assistant pursed her perfectly painted lips. “I believe that is what the queen wishes to discuss with you.”

Archer planted his hands on his hips. “Is there a problem?”

She folded her arms, no longer the pleasant professional. “Did you honestly think you’d get away with this … this sham?”

Archer opened his mouth to ask what the hell she was talking about, when Talia spoke. “I think I can explain.”

They both looked at her.

Talia raised an eyebrow. “I’m not mute or deaf.” She stood. “I think I understand the confusion. You were, perhaps, expecting someone older.”

Archer’s expression cleared. Of course. He’d forgotten they were expecting Eleri. And the queen was completely unaware, as far as he knew, that he’d traveled through time and collected her daughter instead. Talia was the spitting image of her mother, but younger than Eleri had been when she’d disappeared, much less the age she’d be now. He laughed. “You honestly thought I’d hired an imposter?”

“There is a large fortune at stake. Some men—”

Archer’s expression hardened. “I’m not ‘some men.’ I was hired to bring back the royal healer. I have done so. If there is any explaining to do, we will do so to the queen. Together. Now, either escort us both to her immediately or I will return Ms. Trahaern to where I found her and you can get someone else for the job.”

The assistant’s eyes widened, but otherwise her professional demeanor held firm. She folded her hands once again in front of her. “I shall be right back.”

“You have one minute or we’re gone.”

She turned then, her smile brittle, but her eyes fierce. “You will go when and where the queen allows you to go.” She nodded toward the guards.

Archer’s respect climbed a notch—a tiny one—for the fiery little woman, but his grin didn’t reveal that. “Sweetheart, you’ve never seen me in action.”

She flushed, and retreated.

He turned to find Talia studying the room. Only when she rubbed at her arms did he realize she wasn’t quite as cool and collected as she pretended to be.

He sat next to her. “Quite the place, huh?”

“It’s … amazing.” She looked up at hand-painted domed ceiling far above them. “It feels so old and historic and yet it’s modern and hi-tech, all at the same time.” She looked at the doors that had whooshed silently shut behind the assistant.

Archer understood her awe. “The castle was built on the foundations of one that was old even in your time. Over the centuries it has been the site of countless battles, the last of which occurred during the Insurrection. The aftermath resulted in the split of the United Kingdom into three separate lands, ruled by three separate monarchs.”

“How long ago was that?”

Archer shrugged. “Long before I was born. Probably a hand more than a hundred years now.” He sat back in his chair. “Llanfair is the capital of the Welsh kingdom and the seat of the monarchy. The House of Dalwyn has been in power since shortly after the uprising. Queen Catriona is the sixth Dalwyn to rule.”

Talia opened her mouth to speak, but apparently thought better of it.

Archer, who was feeling proud of himself for having put together that much factual history of his adopted homeland, realized then that she had no idea what year she was in.

“It’s twenty-two-thirty-five.” She blanched and he wished he’d kept silent.

She looked at him and smiled. “It’s okay. I mean, you had to deal with this same thing, right? When you came to my … my time.” She tucked her hair nervously behind her ears. “You handled it fairly well. So it shouldn’t be too hard for me.”

“I think the learning curve is a bit steeper on your end.” He shifted so he faced her directly. “Don’t think you have to be perfect here, Talia. Once we explain the situation, the queen will understand what you are dealing with. She’s young, but with a wisdom far beyond her years.”

“How young?”

“Twenty-five.”

“And she rules the whole country?”

Archer nodded. “Every last bit of it. Her father, King Cynan, whom your mother served, was assassinated three years ago. Catriona ascended the throne very young, but she’s held the place together well enough, until … well, until she grew ill.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Talia whispered. “All that and she’s pregnant, too.”

Archer nodded, not knowing what else to say, already wishing he hadn’t said as much as he had.

“What about the father? Is she married? Is there a king, or whatever they call a queen’s husband. Prince regent or something? I was never a royal watcher.”

“She wasn’t married. She’s never spoken about the father.”

“I guess that’s normal, even in my time.” She looked at him. “Do people still get married?” She hadn’t put any emphasis on the question, until her cheeks pinked a bit and she rushed to add, “I mean, I was just thinking that my mother wasn’t married either and that made me wonder if—Never mind.”

Under normal circumstances, when a woman he’d been intimate with brought up the M word around him, no matter how seemingly casual the reference, Archer immediately began making his bon voyage plans. But when Talia had mentioned it, his internal alarms hadn’t made a sound.

The doors slid open before he could think about that, much less answer Talia. The assistant hurried over to them. “Follow me. Quickly.”

Archer took his time standing. “Now she’s in a hurry.”

But Talia leaped to her feet, then smoothed her hair while taking a deep breath. She darted a look at him and murmured, “Thanks for standing up for me.”

“I promised, didn’t I?” He winked at her and placed his hand on the small of her back, beneath her bulging backpack. “What do you have in there anyway?” he asked quietly as they crossed the room to the door.

“Just … stuff.”

“Some things never change, I guess.” Archer
smiled and waited for her to look up at him. She smiled then, too.

He took her hand, not caring who was watching them or what message the connection sent. He squeezed. “You’ll do fine in there, Tali.”

He felt the fine tremors, but she stood tall, chin lifted. “God, I hope so.”

Archer swallowed a grin. She had every bit as much presence as Catriona. Should be an interesting match.

The doors whooshed open in front of them and the assistant stepped aside, revealing a vast sea of carpeting decorated in the royal seal of black and gold. Enormous gold lions adorned either side. The assistant motioned them to precede her.

He heard Talia sing something under her breath that sounded like “Follow the Yellow Brick Road,” before stepping cautiously into the room.

Two very tall, very erect guards stepped forward. Their flamboyant black and gold uniforms were of an extreme design that would have looked almost comical if it hadn’t been for their intense manner and bearing.