Prisoner Princess Read online

  Thirty One

  As soon as Doon's sword was out of its sheath, Kieran opened with a lunge. Doon wasn't expecting the sudden attack, so he pivoted away with a second to spare, then he countered with a powerful swing, which was barely blocked by Kieran.

  “Doon!” Kitt shouted. “Kieran? Are you two serious? You're going to duel each other in the middle of the street? In the middle of the day?”

  “Sounds good to me!” Kieran said as his sword took a swipe at Doon's legs. His adversary leapt backward and returned a blow that grazed Kieran's arm. When the first blood was drawn, Kieran roared with anger. He didn't want to have a disadvantage so early in the fight.

  Blocking Doon's next attack, Kieran sent his elbow forward, slamming it into the pirate's nose. As Doon staggered backward, Kieran's sword sailed downward, crashing against his opponent's. Doon blocked again and again, laughing as he did, even though there was blood on his face. He knew he was bleeding—he could taste it.

  “You know, if I drew my second sword, I could end this in ten seconds or less,” Doon taunted him. “But I won't do that. I'm going to give you a fighting chance this time.”

  “How generous of you,” Kieran said, blocking and slashing. “When you're on the ground at the end of all this, I'll be sure to thank you for being so damned thoughtful!”

  Doon parried and lunged, nearly nicking Kieran's cheek as he did. “As I recall, I was at a disadvantage last time. I was injured. You weren't. And yet I still won.”

  “And now I'm the one with a disadvantage. My hip is ruined, thanks to you.” Kieran suddenly unleashed a series of unpredictable strikes that had Doon shuffling backward. “When you lose, it'll make my victory that much sweeter.”

  “You really think you can win, McCray? Honestly? I've seen you fight. You've seen me fight. I think we both know I'm better.” To prove his point, Doon returned a few wild slashes of his own. Each time he swung his sword, his blows seemed to pick up speed. Kieran blocked each time, much to Doon's surprise. While he lacked finesse, at least the mercenary could offer a challenge.

  Ella heard the commotion from her house, so she went out to investigate. When she saw Kieran and Doon trading blows with each other, she ran to Kitt's side with a gasp. “What are they doing?”

  Kitt answered Ella's question with a weary sigh. “Fighting. In the streets. In midday.”

  “Why?” Ella shrieked. “Shouldn't we try to stop them?

  “I would, but I know better than to get between a clash of egos,” Kitt said with a shrug. “I'm just going to let them get it out of their system. They won't kill each other... at least, I don't think they will.”

  Almost as soon as Kitt spoke, the point of Kieran's sword came uncomfortably close to shaving Doon's throat. Doon leapt backward, away from the blade, then he immediately leapt forward, catching Kieran off guard. Though he managed to block Doon's counterattack, Kieran's sword nearly slipped from his hand.

  “And... why are they doing this, exactly?” Ella dared to ask.

  “I don't know.” Kitt shrugged. “They're men. There's rarely a good explanation for this sort of thing.”

  Kieran's next slash was followed by a riposte from Doon. As Kieran deflected it, he tried to ram his elbow into Doon's nose again, but this time, his opponent was too quick for him. He not only dodged the incoming elbow, he also sliced Kieran's arm.

  “Oh no!” Ella shrilled. “He's hurting him! Are they supposed to hurt each other?”

  “I don't know...” Kitt's answer was the same as before. “I'm not sure they have any rules.”

  The duel lasted so long, the sky started to darken as their blades clashed and collided. Above them, a branch of lightning skipped through purple clouds. When she felt the first mists of an impending rain, Kitt thought about asking Ella if she wanted to go inside, but she decided it was a good idea to stay and make sure the men didn't kill each other.

  “Doon!” Kitt called to him. “Are you two finished yet?”

  “Don't distract me, Kitten!” As he shouted his answer, Doon barely blocked a furious counterstrike from his wide-eyed opponent.

  “I really wish you'd stop!” Ella exclaimed, but even she couldn't get Kieran to lower his blade. This time, he was determined to win.

  After Doon's sword whistled by his ear, Kieran cackled and countered, aiming for Doon's legs. The pirate hopped backward and spun to the side, which brought him to Kieran's exposed flank. Instead of swinging his sword, Doon suddenly kicked his rival's knees. When Kieran fell, his weapon slipped from his fingers.

  “And... that would be the end of it,” Doon said, tapping the tip of his sword against Kieran's neck. The mercenary's heart was beating so hard, Doon could see his pulsating throat.

  “That's not fair... that is not fucking fair!” Kieran screamed as he shoved Doon's blade away from his neck. “You didn't beat me with your sword! You kicked me!”

  “Oh, was that an illegal maneuver? I wasn't aware.” With the back of his hand, Doon wiped the blood from his nose. “After your elbow landed in my face, I assumed everything was fair game.”

  “You think you're so damn good!” Kieran snorted. “Well, one of these days, I'm going to beat you. And then you'll have to admit that we're an even...”

  Kieran's voice trailed off when he saw a giant shadow pouring across the ground. The airship seemingly appeared out of nowhere. As it soared overhead, Kieran rose to his feet and smacked the dirt from his breeches.

  “Another airship?” Ella spoke up. “In Bordeaux? I have to say, that's extremely rare.”

  “What do you think it's doing here?” Kitt asked. “And it's flying awfully low to the ground, isn't it? I don't think I've seen an airship fly so low over a city.”

  A few seconds later, all of Kitt's questions were simultaneously answered.

  The airship suddenly opened fire, blowing apart a small hovel at the end of Ella's street.

  Thirty Two

  For the second night in a row, Isabella struggled to fall asleep in an unfamiliar place. She tossed and turned for hours, throwing off blankets and pulling them on again. The inn she stayed in was hardly second rate, but she still found it impossible to settle her mind. She was supposed to be searching for her brother, but Thomas Harriot kept invading her thoughts. When she was staying at his cottage, sleep never eluded her. He made her feel comfortable. He made her feel safe. Alone, she had to sleep with one eye open. Every time she felt herself drifting to sleep, any small bump in the night would rouse her.

  The sound of shattering glass was no exception.

  Isabella sat up in bed with a jolt. Fiery blood pumped through her veins as her eyes frantically scanned the pitch black room. “Hello?” Isabella whispered into the darkness. “Is someone there? If you're in here, I should warn you... I do have a gun.” Though it wasn't a lie, Harriot's gun was nowhere near her. She had abandoned it on a table at the opposite end of the room.

  All of a sudden, a chilling male voice interrupted the silence. “Hello there, little girl.”

  Isabella tried to yell, but she was so panicked, the scream was caught in her throat. Just as she started to leap from bed, the man shoved her back down and straddled her waist.

  “Nuh uh uh...” the man clicked his tongue. “You're not going anywhere. You're staying right here with Jackal.”

  Isabella tried to struggle, but it was useless. He had her pinned. There was a soft hiss as Jackal lit a match and held it up, illuminating his face. “Do you remember me, girlie?” Jackal whispered the question. “It doesn't matter, because I remember you... Princess Isabella. We met on the night the palace was attacked. Tom wouldn't let me touch you, would he? Well, now he's not here, is he?”

  “Get off!” she wailed, squirming beneath the man who straddled her. “You're hurting me!”

  Jackal shoved a knee into her ribcage. When Isabella started to cry, he lightly slapped her cheek. “Shush,” he said. “If you be a good girl, I won't hurt you... too much. Don't cry and don't scream. This doesn't
have to be such an unpleasant experience.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” Isabella's pulse raced as the question flew from her lips. She was afraid to know the answer.

  “Oh, nothing too dramatic. I'm not going to rape you or anything, if that's what you thought.” When he over-pronounced the word rape, he accidentally spat in her face. “I'm taking you back to my master, Gareth Harriot. He'll decide what to do to you. But I wouldn't get my hopes up if I was you. The old man wants you dead. Very dead.” Jackal sat up and rolled Isabella onto her stomach. With a giggle, he pulled her arms backward and tied her wrists together. “He won't be feeding you tea cakes and tickling you. He'll probably kill you.”

  “Gareth Harriot is Thomas' father?”

  “Oh, yes. That's his daddy,” Jackal replied, “But he's not a very warm and fuzzy daddy, if you ask me. They don't hug. My daddy always hugged me, so I don't know how I turned out this way.” He suddenly shoved a bag over Isabella's head. “My name isn't really Jackal, you know. It's Robert. My mom used to call me Bobby and make pancakes every morning. Sometimes they even had blueberries and I love blueberries. Seeing her killed right in front of me... well... that was the day my mind snapped, I suppose.” As Jackal climbed off of her, he swatted Isabella's rear end. “Well then... let's be off, shall we?”

  Jackal tossed Isabella over his shoulder and carried her out of the room. When she tried to scream for help, he swatted her rear a second time. “Stop yelling! You're hurting Jackal's ears! What are you expecting... to be saved by the authorities? My sweetie, we are the authorities!” Jackal passed her off to one of his lackeys, and they made their way out of the inn with Isabella in tow.

  It was a long sprint to the palace. Jackal had three men with them, and as they made the two-mile trek, they passed Isabella between each other several times, taking turns carrying her. When they reached the dungeon, she was tossed back to Jackal, who lifted the bag from her head and shackled her to the chains on the wall.

  “You're going into solitary, Princess. Aren't you lucky?” After she was bound, Jackal lightly stroked her cheek. “Actually, it's not so bad. If you have to take a shit, at least there'll be no one around to watch!”

  Jackal's hand on her cheek brought a shiver to Isabella's spine. Furthermore, he was standing uncomfortably close—so close that she could feel his breath on her neck when he spoke.

  “Gareth's going to be here in a minute,” he warned her. “You aren't going to like him. He's mean. You might think I'm bad, but once he's here... ohhhh, Izzy... you're gonna miss me!”

  As Jackal promised, Gareth Harriot entered Isabella's cell a few minutes later. He licked his lips when he saw the princess hanging on the wall. His white hair was slicked back and his eyes were the color of a stone. His forehead was a canvas of deep wrinkles, and his jaw was so sharp, it looked like the edge of a cliff. In her mind, he looked nothing like this son.

  “Princess Isabella.” Gareth's voice was deep and cold as he stalked toward her. “I didn't think I'd have a chance to meet you. You were supposed to be dead, you know. I'm Gareth Harriot.” He extended a hand, pretending that he wanted her to shake it. Of course, Isabella's hands were in manacles, so she couldn't. He just wanted to taunt her. “No? You're not going to shake my hand? Well, that's awfully rude of you!”

  Behind him, Jackal tittered at his joke.

  “I have some very important questions for you, child,” Gareth continued. “You see, it was my son who said you were skewered on the end of his sword. Now that I see you in front of me, I can see that's a lie. So... tell me.” Gareth's sigh sounded a bit like a growl. “Did my son actually save you? Because that's what I'm starting to suspect.”

  Isabella didn't say a word. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

  “Oh, you're a defiant one, are you? You're trying to look so proud.” Gareth's left fist clenched. “I can beat that out of you, you know.”

  Isabella didn't say anything, nor did his threat make her flinch. To prove he wasn't making idle threats, he buried his fist in her stomach, knocking the wind out of her.

  “That was my left fist, dear,” he warned her. “If you really make me angry, I'll use my right hand.” He held his right hand beneath her nose, letting her get a good look at the rings on his fingers.

  “You don't want to make President Harriot angry!” cackled Jackal, who skipped around in circles.

  “Jackal, calm yourself!” Gareth shouted at the other man, who immediately stopped moving. Turning his attention back to Isabella, he asked, “Where have you been for the last week or so, Isabella? Where have you been hiding?”

  “I don't know.”

  “You don't know?” Gareth laughed at her answer. “And you expect me to believe that?” With his left fist, he punched Isabella's face. Even Jackal gasped when he saw Eversio's president hitting her.

  “On the night the castle was attacked... how did you get out?” Gareth asked. “No one else got out alive. Did you have help?”

  When Isabella didn't answer, Gareth punched her again—with his left hand.

  “You can tell me this. Has my son been disloyal to me?” Tom's father asked. “When we were sneaking men into the palace with the prince's clone... Thomas was the first one on the inside. He would have interacted with you. Lately, I've been hearing some interesting reports. Apparently, my son won some sort of tournament? He even won a kiss, according to what I've heard. So... it seems very possible that he had a bit of a soft spot for you; therefore, he lied about killing you.” Gareth suddenly squeezed Isabella's cheeks. “Is that what happened, Isabella? Did he fall for you? Did Thomas lie to me when he said he killed you?”

  Isabella's answer was weakly given. “No.”

  “Well now... that's clearly a lie, because you're standing right in front of me!” With his right fist, Gareth punched her face again. When she felt his rings pounding her cheek, Isabella whimpered.

  “I love my son,” Gareth suddenly said. His hands briefly fell into his pockets as he paced around Isabella's small, cold cell. “I love my son more than anything in the world, really. He's the last son I have left, you know. But I know he can be weak. Do you know about his face? He wears a mask because your father's men shaved it off, layer after layer. They tortured him. But in the end, Thomas was weak, he couldn't hold out, and my other sons paid for it. Thomas can be... disappointing. I'd like to think he's loyal to me... he behaves like he is... but now that I'm looking at your face, Isabella, I don't know what to believe anymore.

  So I'm going to ask you one more time, Your Highness...” Gareth flexed his hand, warming up for another punch. “How well do you know my son, and are you still alive because of him?”

  “I don't know him that well,” she lied.

  Gareth suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking the walls with his voice. “I don't want to have you hit you again!” He stomped toward her and brought his face close to hers. “Tell me!”

  Isabella's answer surprised even her. In a strained voice, she softly replied, “Go to hell.”

  This time, Gareth punched her so hard, Isabella's head flew back and hit the wall, knocking her out.

  Thirty Three

  “So you're really going to slaughter random people? You don't have a problem with that?” Vee asked as she chased her masked friend down an abandoned Bordeaux side street.

  “I do what my father asks me to do, Vee. It's not my place to question him.”

  “And why not? You can't think for yourself?”

  “Of course I can. I don't have to like it, but I assume my father has a good reason for doing what he does.” Despite the blood that would soon stain his hands, Harriot sounded surprisingly stoic. “A good soldier isn't always comfortable with his orders, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't complete them. Besides, you know how I feel about deserters.”

  Vee tugged on the sleeve of his coat, pulling him backward. “Tommy, stop! Why would you do this? Could you really slaughter children? Callum and Jackass would, bu
t they're not you! You're my friend!”

  “Then perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do.” Tom glanced at the sky, where one of his airships made a preliminary pass over the city, scoping the area. “You have fifteen minutes, Vee. Get your girl and get out of here.”

  “I'm disappointed in you, Tommy!” Vee shouted as she hurried toward The Velvet Dame. “And for what it's worth, I'm sure Isabella would be disappointed in you too!”

  Under his breath, Harriot whispered, “It isn't worth much...”

  A few minutes later, Vee raced through the brothel's front doors. “Frances!” Her scream was so loud, one of the guards at the door tried to stop her. “Frances, where are you? I need to talk to you!”

  Frances flew from the brothel's back rooms as soon as she heard her lover's voice. “Vee!” she squealed, “What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting you back so soon!”

  “Frances... sweetheart... I've got to get you out of here!” Vee was still panting after her sprint through the city. “Grab the girls, grab your things, and let's go!”

  Frances was thoroughly confused. If Vee was telling her to go, she would go, but her curiosity craved an answer. “What is going on?”

  “This city's going to be a bloodbath soon,” Vee warned her. “And by soon, I mean ten minutes from now... so we've got to get going!”

  When she heard the urgency in Vee's voice, Frances didn't hesitate. She told her girls to assemble with only the clothes on their backs. Within minutes, they were ready to leave the brothel.

  “Alright!” Vee coached the girls as they spilled through the brothel's double doors. “We're going to make our way to the airship. It's just outside the city. Stay close and don't stop for anything or anyone!”

  “Can you tell me what's going on?” Frances asked as she reached for Vee's hand. “Give me something!”

  “Eversio is...” At first, Vee couldn't complete the thought. She didn't want to be judged for being part of a group that could commit such unthinkable atrocities. She was loyal to Tom, but she wouldn't be chained to a group of murderers, not even for him. Drawing a deep breath, Vee finally finished, “they're purging the city.”