The two men seemed unexpectedly unsure of what to say next. Marian had simply wanted to join the conversation, but instead she seemed to have stunned them into silence. She should have spoken sooner, comforted Richard when the conversation turned to the man who’d killed his brother, but her prince had gone so remote and inward that she couldn’t find a good moment to interrupt.
Damn. Once again, she’d done it all wrong.
What to do next? Coffee seemed the safest bet. She poured her mug while they watched. Just great. It seemed like she had the next move. Or word. Or something. All this attention focused on her made her feel more naked than she had felt last night with Richard.
“Daz, I appreciate your concern, but you realize if he Hulks out, as you put it, I can just become a phantom.”
“Uh, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I can take care of myself. The Russian monks couldn’t touch me, remember?”
Daz leaned against the counter. “Let’s not keep all these secrets from each other from now on, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.” She looked over at her new lover, who seemed completely lost in thought from his perch on the couch. He still had secrets. The identity of his Queen, for one. Last night, he’d mentioned a Marshal, but that could be just a court title rather than a name.
“Did you call your Phoenix Institute last night? Do they know anything about the monks?” Richard asked.
“I wish they did but, no.”
“They know nothing?” Richard asked.
Marian tensed, expecting Daz to challenge Richard. Instead, Daz simply shrugged. “They’ve got nothing but speculation and guesses, just like us. And now that we’re all up and awake, we should get moving before the police around here know we were involved with what happened yesterday.”
Richard walked over and stood at her side. Supporting her or laying his claim? No, he had already done the second. Several times last night.
“We’ll go in a moment. First, tell me why your people are so short of information? The original sniper was after you, not us. And the monk said something that could be interpreted as referring to Alec Farley. They should be putting all their resources on this.”
“It might help if I knew exactly what the monk said. You told me last night but I need the exact translation and my memory isn’t photographic. Could you write it down?”
“Record me,” Marian said.
Daz clicked on his smart phone and pointed it at her.
“This nearly exact to what he said. First, he said, ‘No, as foretold, you are the devil! You are upon us! You will destroy my soul in fire! No, I will not give in to you, foul thing. Saint Rasputin, save me.’
“Then he said, ‘You can destroy me but you cannot frighten me. Saint Rasputin has blessed me. My soul is cleansed. It has been foreseen that our saint must destroy a devil made of fire coming to challenge him. You are the vanguard of this one and you hope to convince me to stray from the path? Never! We will not listen; we will help our savior cleanse the world to make it safe for Him. You must be cast back into Hell, all of you. Whatever happens to me, I will be in Heaven with God’s blessing. I Curse you and yours forever!’”
Marian let out a deep breath. “That’s it.”
Richard raised an eyebrow. Daz had his mouth open.
“I have an excellent memory,” she mumbled into her mug.
“Who’s been hiding you under a bush all these years?” Daz asked. “It’s pretty clear you should be running the family business.”
“I want out of the family business.”
“Like I said last night, the Phoenix Institute would be happy to have you.”
“And, as I said last night, I want to make my own choices, not work for someone else again.”
Richard put a hand on her shoulder. “That can happen. I can help you.”
She turned around to face him. “Wait, no, how did we get to talking about me? We were talking about the monk’s rantings and what to do next.”
“And about getting out of here before someone knocks at the door,” Daz said. “Let’s pack up and go.”
“Where?” she asked.
“You and Daz should go to the airport and back home.”
“No way,” Daz said.
“I’m going with you.”
Richard took her face in her hands and kissed her lips, gently. It would probably look bad to Daz if she melted down at his feet. But she almost did anyway.
“This is more dangerous than I anticipated. This isn’t what either of you signed up for.”
“We’ll pack,” Marian said. “And then we’ll get out of here and talk about what’s next.” She glared at Richard.
Someone knocked.
“Crap,” she said.
“It’s probably room service or housekeeping.” Daz walked to the door. “Who’s there?”
The answer was in French. She knew French well but her brain froze after hearing police.
“Fuck,” Daz said under his breath.
Richard moved past them and opened the door. The pair standing in the hallway, one man and one woman, were French municipal police. Marian knew that because she recognized blue uniforms, which looked like American police uniforms, except the jackets had gold buttons and the pair were wearing traditional circular French képis.
The municipal officers were responsible for protecting certain areas of national interest and maintaining order. Marian guessed this pair was assigned to protect the abbey.
Richard ushered them in and offered coffee. Using his charm again, Marian thought.
The female officer refused the offer with a frown. “It was my understanding you are Americans,” she said in French.
“Yes, this is true,” Richard answered in the same language.
“You speak French as well as I, if somewhat formally,” she said.
Very formally, Marian thought. She’d thought the same at the airport as they went through customs. It was as if his French was out of date. Which, she realized, it was.
“We’re Americans,” he said, switching to English, and somehow, his whole posture changed. His shoulders slumped. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He was back to the California beach bum he pretended to be. “But I spent a considerable part of my growing up in your country. So what’s up? What can we do to help?”
The man pushed forward. “Who are your companions?”
The woman elbowed him. “Claude, introduce yourself and state why we are here.”
Claude, obviously the younger and less experienced of the two, took off his képi and introduced himself and the woman, one Angelique Morneau. Richard’s mouth twitched at the name, and he glanced at Marian.
Marian wished he would take this more seriously.
Richard took the woman’s hand and kissed it. Okay, not that seriously. Angelique rewarded him with a small smile as he let go of her hand. Marian wondered if the officer was as nonplussed as Marian had been when Richard did that to her for the first time. How many women did he charm that way? She’d thought last night meant as much to Richard as to her. But it was hard to know.
“I see you absorbed some of our manners growing up here,” Morneau said.
“But of course.”
Claude cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “And who are your companions, sir?”
“This is Marian Doyle, who I’ve commissioned to help purchase artwork, and Daz Montoya, a bodyguard.”
Richard put his arm around Marian’s shoulders. Marian played along. No, not playing. She was glad again of his show of support, though she wished he hadn’t revealed their relationship. She would have better standing as a professional.
But maybe it was obvious what was between them. When in doubt, always stay as close to the truth as possible.
Marian said her greetings in French, happy she could keep her voice clear and even. She stayed in the safety of Richard’s arms. Daz just waved at the officers.
“And you’re at our door because…?” Richard asked. He stroked Marian’s back.
“There was an incident at the Fontevraud Abbey yesterday. We are interviewing all who were seen entering the abbey around the same time.”
“An incident? That’s horrible. Was anything damaged?” Marian asked, in English this time.
“No damages, mademoiselle, at least not to the abbey,” Claude said.
“Oh, good!”
Thank God that the abbey and the effigies were intact. Something that ancient and beautiful should never be destroyed. I must get back to that secret passage and see it in better light.
Richard said nothing. Obviously, he wanted the officers to do the talking.
“What were you doing at the abbey?” Angelique asked.
“Sightseeing,” Richard answered.
“Is this part of your trip to purchase artwork?” Claude asked.
“No, it was a side trip,” Marian answered. “We had been to visit another client of mine for a lead on what Mr. Genet wanted and since we going this way and I had never been to the abbey before, Mr. Genet agreed to stop here for the night.” She smiled and stared up at Richard with adoring eyes. It wasn’t even an act.
“I really wanted to see Eleanor of Aquitaine,” she added.
Richard broke their eye contact and focused his gaze on the police. “How could I resist such a request from the lady?” He kissed her cheek. Her face grew hot. Dammit. She wished she could control that.
Claude cleared his throat. “So you went to the effigies, then?”
“I believe we strolled around first and eventually saw them,” Richard said.
“You entered the abbey just about the same time as, well, as the incident occurred. Yet you saw nothing?”
They might be on camera. Marian tried to think of the right answer but no idea came.
Daz leaned against the kitchen counter and shrugged. “Strolled around. Right.” He rolled his eyes and gestured to Richard and Marian. “I doubt they saw much other than each other for a while, no matter what room we were in.”
Taking the cue, Richard kissed her. She was happy to cling to him, happy to forget about the police and the murderous monks, to concentrate on him.
She broke the kiss before it got out of hand. “It’s not really the time right now, Richard,” she muttered, loud enough for them all to hear.
“I think it’s safe to say that I’m not exactly sure what we did and when at the abbey,” Richard said. “Save that I had company.”
“Perhaps not. But you were keeping a close eye, monsieur.” Angelique directed the question at Daz. “Presumably, your job is to watch them. And you saw nothing?”
Daz frowned, as if trying to remember. “I caught a glance of some monks all walking in a group.”
“Did you notice anything unusual about them?”
“Uh, monks all by themselves are pretty unusual for me.” He shrugged again. “How could I know if there was something more unusual about these monks?” He grinned. “Were they a flash mob or something?”
Angelique’s answering smile was strained.
“Why are you asking us about monks?” Richard asked.
“That is our concern, not yours,” Angelique said. “For now, I need to know how you left the abbey.”
“Same way we came in,” Daz said.
“We have established that this is not the truth, monsieur. There is video of your party going in but not out.”
“You’re kidding?” Daz asked.
“You find this amusing, sir?” Claude asked.
“Damn straight, I do. How else would we get out of the place except the exit? It’s not like we walked through walls or anything.”
“Indeed,” Richard said. “Is that what this is about? You cannot establish when we left the abbey? I’m sorry, but that seems not to warrant a knock on our door so early in the morning. I dislike being interrupted.”
Richard took his arm off Marian. He could be playing a role or truly angry. Or maybe it was all the same to him at this point. “You ask us questions and do not tell us why. Unless you do, I cannot see how we could help you. And if you are accusing us of something, well, I shall have to call my lawyer.”
“You are the ones who disappeared in the abbey,” Claude said.
“Disappeared? We are right here,” he said.
“The hotel clerk says you arrived late last night, looking disheveled,” Angelique said.
“We, ah, walked after we left the abbey. It is very beautiful country.”
This time, Marian looked away and down, hoping they would interpret her embarrassment as confirmation of what Richard said.
“And you, monsieur bodyguard?” Angelique asked.
“I get paid to make sure they don’t get hurt, not to keep them apart,” Daz said. “They want to go au naturel in the countryside, not my problem.”
“If that is all, officers?” Richard said.
Angelique and Claude looked at each other. Claude whispered something in his partner’s ear. Angelique nodded, her face stuck in that sour expression.
Claude bowed to them. “For now, we are done with questions. But we require a number we can reach you if we have future inquires.”
Marian produced a business card from her purse. “This is my antiquities firm. There is also a London office.” She wrote the number of the back. “I’m not sure where in Europe we will be next and cell service is unreliable at times. Please contact the London office and they will know how to reach me.”
Angelique took the card with a snap of her wrist. “Very good.”
But she glared at them as she left.
Marian collapsed in a chair when the door was closed. “Oh, God, Daz, you were right. We should have left right away. Maybe even last night.”
“Nah. I think we’re good. If they had us on video fighting the monks, they would have come to arrest or, at least, detain us somehow. Instead, they sent two low-level cops, probably just following a minor lead. That’s what cops do, look for the pieces that don’t fit. And we didn’t fit neatly into any scenario. But they can’t take it further than that. Besides, even if we told them the truth, they’d never believe us. Suppose one of the crazy monks talk? Who seems more credible? Them or us?”
“Those officers were not nearly as low level as you assume,” Richard said. “Their routine and way of asking questions spoke of a longer partnership than they first seemed to be. She made it seem as if he was bumbling to relax us. But you are right, Daz, if they had video footage, they would have detained us. Instead, they are merely very suspicious.”
“Then they could be back.” Marian said.
“Oh, yes,” Richard said. “Especially if one of the monks who survived claimed we are the ones who fought them.”
Daz shook his head. “As if that would fly. ‘Hey, gendarmes, we’re a bunch of monks sent to assassinate those associated with a fire demon.’”
“They may be a legitimate order, at least on the surface,” Richard said.
“Then let’s go now,” Marian said. “Right now.”
“Where? We lost our best lead.” Daz asked.
“Are you two both intent on accompanying me still?” Richard asked.
Daz nodded. “It’s not even about you at this point, Prince. The monks said we’re the vanguard for this fire devil. If they mean Alec and they’re the ones that shot at me in New York, they’re my problem too.”
“Why not wait and call Alec Farley for back-up?” Marian asked.
“No way. I’m not letting him walk into this unless I know what the hell is going on.”
“But you’re content to let me walk into this?” Richard said.
“Why not? It’s your thing too.”
Marian walked over and took Richard’s hand. “Where you go, I go.”
Whatever happened next with her life, good or bad, it would happen with Richard.
He hugged her and bent his neck to kiss her. “Thank you, Angel,” he murmured into her ear. “All right. Let’s roll. I’ll drive.”
“Where?” Daz asked.
“I said I’d drive,” Richard answered.
They packed, checked out of the hotel and settled in to the car. Richard, for the first time, took the driver’s seat.
It took all of five seconds for Marian to begin clutching the armrest tight.
“You like speed, Prince?” Daz asked from the backseat.
“Who doesn’t?” Richard said.
Though the countryside zipped by, Marian soon realized they were headed toward Normandy.
“We’re going to talk to Lord Romanoff again?” Marian asked.
“I’m going to chat with Lord Romanoff,” Richard answered.
Marian doubted when Romanoff warned her about curses he’d realized that he was dealing with an immortal prince who obviously could hold a grudge. All she could do was hold on now and wait for what happened.
In what seemed like no time at all, they pulled into the driveway of Romanoff’s estate on the cliffs. Richard parked on lawn at the back of the windswept mansion. Overhead, dark clouds hung in the sky. She heard the distant sound of thunder.
Richard got out of the car and took off his hooded jacket. He tossed it inside the vehicle and slammed the door.
“Let’s coordinate tactics,” Daz said as the rain started to fall around them.
“I’m going in alone,” Richard said.
“I know how to handle him, I can—”
“No, Angel. I’m going in. Wait here, both of you.”
Richard walked up to the stone fence surrounding the back deck and leapt over the seven-foot-high fence. He pulled open the back door. Unlocked? No, he probably used his enhanced strength.
“What, we just wait here?” she asked Daz.
“Prince boy obviously has a plan. Let’s give it a few minutes and see what happens.”
Marian drew her coat tighter around her as the raindrops grew heavier. “This is idiotic. We should be helping him.”
“We are. We’re guarding his back,” Daz said.
Daz’s phone rang. “Gotta take this,” he said as he looked at the display. “Keep watch.”
She stared at the home, undecided whether to disobey and go inside or wait. Beside her, Daz’s end of the conversation was a lot of uh-huhs, and got its. Obviously, he didn’t want her to overhear.
Lightning split the sky. Marian blinked, and when she refocused, Richard and Lord Romanoff stood on the patio. Richard had his hand on Romanoff’s shoulder and was leaning down to speak to the shorter man.
Romanoff put up his hand, as if in surrender. Richard whispered something in his ear. Romanoff nodded slowly. Richard watched with his arms crossed over his chest as Romanoff backed up to his door and went inside his home.
Richard came back to the car the same way he’d left it, by vaulting over the fence.
As he drew closer, she noticed blood dripped from his arm, though the rain had already started to wash it away. A thin scar from his elbow to his wrist was disappearing even as she watched.
“Let’s go.” Richard pressed the keys into her hand. “Angel, you drive now.”
Thank God, she thought, and took the wheel. Richard sat in the back and closed his eyes. Daz shook his head and took shotgun.
Lightning crackled again as they pulled out of the driveway. “What happened in there?” she asked. “Is that blood yours or his, Richard?”
“It’s my own blood, but it could easily have been his if I wanted,” Richard said without opening his eyes.
“What’d you threaten him with?” Daz asked.
“I threatened nothing. I told him he should be far more worried about the curse of an immortal prince than a curse from the pretender, Rasputin. And some of my blood might have dripped on his tiger-striped rug. After that, he talked freely.”
She could well imagine Romanoff’s worry for his precious Elvis room. What she couldn’t imagine was Richard being terrifying. But he must have been.
“What did Romanoff tell you?” she asked.
“Unfortunately, not much. He said the source called him from Germany, from a local museum in Idar-Oberstein and he also gave me a current address for the family of the empress’s nurse. But he claimed that’s all he knew. I choose to believe him, as he knew if he lied, I’d be back.”
“That’s the same area of Germany your source gave us,” Marian said. “I guess that’s our next step.”
“Yes.”
“That’s it? We just drive to this museum or this house and see what happens? That’s the plan? We become bait to draw them out?” Daz asked.
“Do you have a better plan?” Richard asked.
Daz sighed. “No, not really.”
Marian’s hands tightened on the wheel as the road became slick in the rain.
Richard crossed his arms over his chest. “Now leave me be. I’m tired and need to sleep. Marian, stop for the night somewhere in Germany close to our destination. I want to be fresh when we reach Idar-Oberstein.”
And that was that. As the French countryside passed by in the dark of the storm, doubt crept in about being with him, the most impulsive decision she’d ever made. She’d worried about the consequences of smuggling. The consequences of Richard’s quest could be far more dangerous than being arrested.
Argh. Maybe she should have listened and gone back, as Richard had urged.
But then she wouldn’t be with him.
Because after years of dreaming of a life of her own choice, a normal life where she used her phantom ability for the right reasons, she had fallen completely for an immortal prince and would likely do whatever he wanted.
She’d do anything he asked, make love to him every night for the rest of her life and follow him to the ends of the Earth if he only whispered Angel in her ear a few times a day.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Because while he might care about her, Richard couldn’t be in love with her. She was interesting and he was curious, and he enjoyed sex with her, and he loved seeing her use her power. Okay, he loved her power. Look at the way he insisted she make him a phantom this morning.
But in love with her?
Hah. Look at the way he unilaterally made decisions. Look at how he’d simply taken charge of Romanoff’s interrogation. How could their relationship even be close to a partnership?
The day Richard walked out of her life, it would be bad. Awful. Heart-wrenching.
She wondered if being with him, even for a short time, would be worth that heartache.
Yes.
In a few hours, they reached the border crossing to Germany, and they had to provide identification and passports. Daz joked with the young woman checking their identification. Marian’s sense of humor abandoned her. She handed over the documents without a word and clutched the steering wheel tight, worried about arrest warrants or orders not to leave the country. Sweat drenched her back, soaking her sweater.
Richard woke up and handed over his documents without comment, disinterested and seemingly unworried about being caught. He’d probably done this sort of thing many times. He couldn’t die. Why should he care if they were caught?
Unfair, she thought. He cared about finding Rasputin. And he did care about protecting her. She meant that much to him, at least. Maybe she was the equivalent of a very good dog to him.
No, he cared about her as a person. She was being unfair. And stupid. And insecure.
She nearly squealed the tires as she pulled away from the border crossing.
Daz snorted. “And here I was worried about his driving. Take it easy, there, Speed Racer.”
“Easy for you to say,” she mumbled.
“It’ll be all right,” Richard said.
She nodded. No, it would never be all right again. She began flipping through the music channels, hoping for an American station to distract her. Their speed climbed on the autobahn. Her death grip on the wheel loosened as the fear dissipated.
“Wait, keep that! Turn it up,” Richard said as she almost went past a song.
“‘Call Me, Maybe?’ Immortal Prince Richard likes ‘Call Me, Maybe’?” Daz said.
Richard began singing in a nice tenor voice. Daz grinned and joined in. And then she couldn’t help laughing because the song was so happy and they sounded so silly singing it.
She joined in at the chorus.
Yes, she had just met Richard and this was definitely crazy. But so what?
Marian stopped for the night at a bed and breakfast that had been recommended highly by her father when she called him. “It’s out of the way, in this nice quiet town, no fuss, no muss,” he’d informed her.
He’d asked how things were going. She’d said fine, because otherwise he’d worry. He’d feel guilty, and why bother him when he could do nothing about it?
Dad’s recommendation was spot-on. The B&B practically screamed peaceful Bavarian country dwelling. The downstairs lobby reflected the exterior, all warm hardwoods and sturdy German furniture. The second-floor rooms consisted of a big bed, a dresser and an attached bathroom. No television and no phones, though they did have wireless Internet.
She paid for two rooms, thinking the men could share one and she would have the other. After all, Richard needed the bodyguard, not her.
Richard changed her internal arrangements without consulting her by carrying his luggage and hers into one room. Daz grabbed the room at the front of the hallway, across from the top of the steps.
“Are you planning to sleep with that door open to see if anyone comes up the stairs?” she asked.
“No need for sleep. I napped in the car, so I’m good. I’ll leave the door open while I read,” he answered.
“To guard us,” she said.
“Yep. It’s what I’m here for.”
She lingered in the hallway, uncertain of whether to go into her room with Richard just yet.
“You might want to keep it down a bit, tonight,” Daz said as he tossed his gear onto his bed. “The fräulein who runs this place looks like she wouldn’t take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night.”
Marian glanced down on her shoes. “Uh, okay.”
Daz moved closer. “Hey, Marian, I’m sorry. Relax. I’m used to teasing people. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s okay.”
“Not really, not if it bugged you. And I’m sorry about the crossed signals last night. I should’ve realized you were hung up on the prince. I get it.” He stood between her and her room. “What I don’t get is why you’re lingering in the hallway?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t voice what she couldn’t comprehend yet herself.
Daz pointed to his room. “You can sleep in here if you want. And that’s not a come-on.”
“Thank you,” she breathed out. “But it’s not necessary.”
“The offer stands all night long.”
She stepped inside and poured a glass of water from his bathroom. She swallowed it all down in one gulp. “Daz, you’re friends with Alec Farley.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Why?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I’m saying this all wrong.” She shook her head. “What I meant is that I work for the firm because they’re family and they need me. Richard is doing this for his court, who are also his family. But, you, you’re walking into danger for Alec and the Phoenix Institute. I don’t understand why. I know you owe him and I know you’re a soldier, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so loyal.”
Daz arranged the chair so it set against the door to the hallway. He sat down, staring out the door and to the stairs beyond.
“Alec’s team. Team sticks together.” He crossed his legs at the ankles. “Team takes care of each other.”
“How did you get to be team?”
“Like any other relationship, it takes time and shared experiences.” Daz smiled. “When I left the service, I lost my team. They scattered to the winds. It wasn’t the same. But Alec and my F-Team aren’t going to scatter. We’re in it for the long haul.”
“You’re a family,” she said.
“A family more loyal than my given one.” He turned his gaze on her. “You could be team too. You could be part of the Phoenix Institute. I thought Alec was a little touched at first, trying to find other psychics with abilities and teach them. But I keep meeting more people with powers and I see exactly why Alec thinks the institute is needed. People feel like they’re found a home or they’re grateful to know they’re not alone. You could join us. I was talking truth last night when I asked that. Okay, I was also coming on to you. But I meant that part. We could use you.”
She leaned against the doorframe, focusing all her attention on Daz. “I’d be team too?”
“After a while, yeah.”
She would belong to a different family, one that used her abilities to help others, not for money. It wasn’t her dream of archeology, but it was good, honest work.
She leaned over and kissed Daz on the cheek. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”
“A sweetheart who’s sleeping alone tonight.”
“You said you didn’t need to sleep, remember? And, Daz, thanks.”
“Anytime.”
She turned away and walked to her room and the very big bed that awaited.
The room’s sloped ceilings made her feel trapped. Richard ducked his head as he came out of the bathroom to avoid a rafter. “What did Daz want?”
“He’s standing guard duty. He wanted to let us know.” That was a lie, dammit. “And he wanted to make sure I was okay sharing the room with you.”
“I assumed you would want to share with me.” Richard sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her. “Do you not?”
“I want it more than anything in the world.” Oh, no, she’d said that out loud.
He reached his hand to her. “Angel,” he whispered.
That night, she managed not to scream. Only just barely.