Page 47 of To Claim A King
“I want to be part of this family,” he declared, the sincerity in his tone a pitch that couldn’t be faked with false promises. “I want you—all of you—to be mine.”
His cheeks reddened to a dark pink with the confession, but his eyes—they sparkled the brightest blue I’d ever seen on this man, honesty lifting the veil he used to cover himself.
“Stay with us, and you may keep us.” It was a challenge to his nature of running away, but stated as an earnest vow, unbreakable and true. He cupped my cheeks and pulled me in for a kiss—chaste and sweet—before pressing our foreheads together.
“Thank you,Guapo. I am yours.” A solemn promise spoken between the battered souls of two men bred for battle.
My lips crested into an honest smile. “As I am yours,compañero. Perhaps we should go tell Hillary that you are also hers to keep, no?”
The wavering sigh informed me his confession to me was far easier than he expectedthatconversation to go, whichwas likely true. Still, we’d been gone far too long, and her FBI interview was due to be over. The only reason I’d felt comfortable enough to partake in this indulgence was the four men stationed outside the hallway and the FBI agents present in the building.
“Come,” I beckoned, interlacing our hands as I pulled the door handle open. “You will join us at home, and we can figure out the rest later. You remain with us.”
Yellowing light flooded into the closet, but the warning came far too late when the heavy body propped against the door dropped to the floor at our feet. Empty eyes stared up at us, burgundy blood trickling from the guard’s mouth.
I immediately brandished my dagger and Kellan withdrew a gun from a concealed shoulder holster, but it was too late. All four men lay silently frozen in death in the tight hallway, their bodies splayed in awkward angles, their weapons removed.
“I will say, this is most surprising.”
The familiar feminine timbre drifted down the corridor, its cool tone belying its heated edge. Carmen Delgado—the assassin that should have been dead—stared back at us with unfeeling chocolate eyes, a small pistol in each hand trained on both of our chests.
“I was only after one target today, Kellan, but the smell of lust in the air tells me I’ll be taking two.” She cocked her head, long brunette hair swishing across her back with the movement. “Is this why you didn’t kill him,culicagado? He is your lover?”
So, Alvarez’s men would not get to us today, but Kellan’s greatest fear of leading us to his family had become our reality. A cutting irony. I held the dagger lightly in my fist, awaiting the right time to strike. My vow was absolute. Kellan was mine to protect just as I was his. I would not let her tear this man from his rightful place as King. She was a pawn in Queen’s clothing.
“Are you a zombie or a witch, Carmen?” My companion’s response was carefully measured, not a single emotion conveyed in its tone. “I thought you were dead.”
The vile woman clicked her tongue in annoyance, unamused. “I am very much alive,traidor. But the same will not be said of you.” She released the safety of her weapons for emphasis. The abrupt click of metal shut out the sound of my heart.
“There are FBI agents in the building,” I cautioned, fingering the hilt as Kellan tightened his grip on the gun. “You won’t get very far.”
“Your brothers are assigned to the princess.” Carmen’s beauty morphed into a vicious sneer. “They will only touch her if you cause me trouble.”
My eyes latched onto Kellan’s, the previous shine of ecstasy now dulled to dark wax. The barest hint of fear flickered through them before titanium-fortified resolve replaced the wayward emotion. I didn’t need to hear the words to know with certainty what he would choose.
He tucked his gun back into the holster and raised his hands in surrender, sealing our fates, but providing the lifeline forMi Reinato leave unharmed. She would be furious, but she would be safe.
It was a choice I too would make, without thought or question. I sheathed my dagger and raised my palms to match his.
“Take us where we must go.”
Sequoia FBI agents were arrogant, rude, and determined to piss me off today. I was in the power seat, and they knew it, but still they had to take up triple the time we’d agreed to in a pathetic attempt at exerting authority.
I stalked down the hall with a whole team of Sammy’s super soldiers at my back, my body vibrating with the manic energy of the moment. Cautious satisfaction and tremulous relief continued to spike my adrenaline, and I was dead on my feet with the constant crash. Just a few more steps and I’d be out the exit doors, with Lauchlan and Aaronwaiting for me.
No Kellan. I’d boxed every feeling I’d had about him leaving, wrapped it in thick packing tape, and tucked it in a recessed corner in the closet of my mind. I didn’t have the time or the energy to unpack the cataclysmic hurt, and I couldn’t afford the distraction. He’d left. It was done. I refused to think about where he was, or what he was doing, or who he was doing it with. I even stopped myself from checking his tracker this morning, unwilling to test my resolve.
Focus on the mission. The mission hadn’t changed despite the ogre Viking’s inability to feel his feelings like a Neanderthal child.
The first step was removing Alvarez from the board entirely. After today’s press release, and by providing all the required evidence to the FBI, Alvarez was going to be incarcerated much sooner, and it was there he’d get a little visit from a prisoner who owed me a favor. With the quick incision of a sharpened toothbrush, Alvarez would kindly offer his blood as paint for the concrete floor of the tidy little jail cell he called home.
The next step was scrubbing the filth that was Antonio Carlos from Carlisle, from Sequoia—from the entire country, and bringing down his entire deplorable empire of sex and sin. Kellan’s petulant actions be damned. I would follow through on my commitment to bring down the bastard.
I’d kill him myself if it meant freeing this state from his scourge and releasing Kellan from the poison that was his family. The man’s head up his ass notwithstanding.
Our cohort stopped short at the end of the hallway that led to the next set of doors to the outside, causing me to stumble forward in my heels from the abrupt halt. The four large male bodies bracketing me stiffened, their back muscles rigid through the Kevlar lining of their vests, hands gripping the many weapons strapped into holsters at their sides.
I peered through the hole between two guards’ arms, only to see the visages of two surly men blocking our path, their guns aimed at two of my guards’ heads with the casual stance of trained killers.
