War Bringer, The Red Team Series, Book 6 (Red Team #6)

Kelan looked around the extravagant room. “What is this place?”


The light-brown-haired man removed his sunglasses and sent a look around the room, too. “King had this made for you.” His blue-gray eyes cut toward Kelan. “Well, for the princess and the War Bringer, anyway.” He dismissed the two other guards. When they were gone, he looked right at Kelan. “You have one night. I will come for you in the morning. Be ready.” He gave Kelan a hard look. “I cannot save her. Only you can.”

“Who are you? Are you King?”

The man went through the door without answering any questions. Kelan stared at the door as he heard the lock catch. That guy was too young to be King. Besides, King made everyone believe he was omnipotent. King could save Fiona if he wanted to—he wouldn’t have said Kelan was the only one who could.

He turned slightly and glanced at her. They had one night—one that was already well progressed. One night to figure out a way out of here and get her to safety.

She stood in the center of the room, in the middle of a blue-and cream-toned oriental carpet. The blanket from the SUV was still wrapped about her shoulders. She took a few steps around the room, looking at the furnishings and decor. He followed her, as troubled by what he saw as she was.

The room was a suite of luxurious appointments. The ceiling was twenty feet high and filled, corner to corner, with a mural of clouds in a deep blue sky surrounded by lush gardens. All around the edges, naked couples were copulating while winged cherubs flew about the edges of the garden observing them.

Fiona looked up, then away. Color blossomed on her face.

The bed’s canopy was suspended from the ceiling in the middle of one wall; its long panels of white silk hung to the floor. All of the furnishings in the room were of an Empire style with slim, delicate proportions and ornate decorations. The exposed woodwork was a mix of fine woods. The walls and fabrics of the cushions were pale yellow, cream, and gold. The room was big enough for him and delicate enough for her.

Tall windows led to what looked like a moonlit garden. Kelan walked over to check it out. He went up a couple of steps to the huge double glass doors and opened them. A breeze came inside, humid and smelling of roses and peat moss. Somewhere in the garden was a water feature; he could hear it. The ceiling in that space was dotted with little lights that twinkled like stars.

The two rooms were beautiful, elegant, and as fake as a theme park ride.

Kelan pulled Fiona into his arms, sighing at the feel of her so close. He’d never let himself give up hope of holding her again during the hellish hours that had just passed, but the fear of never being here with her like this again had stalked him.

She looked up at him. “Kelan…I don’t think this is some role-playing game. Three men died fighting you. They would have gladly killed you, too. And the way they were chanting the words on your tattoo. Why would they do that?”

He’d killed more than three yesterday, but that wasn’t a detail she needed to know. “King is a sick bastard. I think we shouldn’t be surprised by the depth of his depravity.”

“They said I’m his daughter.”

Kelan studied her face, trying to interpret her reaction to that. “Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I don’t understand any of this.”

“Nor do I, but then we aren’t operating with the same deck of cards King is. We may never understand his game.”





*





Fiona stepped away from Kelan and made another circuit around the room. There were two closets, each the size of her room at Ty’s house, both full of clothes, shoes, and other accessories. To whom did they belong? Did whoever it was know she and Kelan were using their suite? But that man had said it was a suite King had built for them.

A nuptials suite.

The large bathroom between the closets was big enough for two people to move around in simultaneously. It had a two-person shower with a dozen showerheads and a big two-person soaker tub in white alabaster marble. The tiles on the floor and walls were tumbled marble, and the vanities were more of the crisp white alabaster. The linens matched the colors of the other room.

Kelan shadowed her around the spacious suite. There was a sofa with scroll arms and smooth yellow damask fabric. Off to one side of the sitting area was a desk of burled walnut with painted black and gold legs.

She walked to the open doors off the garden. The bottom half of her gown, the part not covered by her blanket, blew and billowed around and between her legs.

“I’m not King’s daughter.”

Kelan stepped up behind her and slipped his arms around hers. “How do you know?”

“I don’t feel any connection to him as a father. If he was responsible for my abduction and tonight’s fight, he repulses me.” She felt Kelan nod behind her. She turned in his arms and put her hands on his bare chest. “What are we doing here? What is this place?”

“More questions I cannot answer.”

She touched the edge of his eyebrow. “He made you fight man after man. What if you have a concussion?”

He smiled. “Maybe I have cracked my head. I’m standing here with you, and I can’t believe it.” He touched her face, his fingers brushing a tender spot. “Did they hurt you?”

She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “You mean, am I still a virgin?”

“No. I mean did they hurt you? I know they scared the hell out of you, but did they beat you?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t always conscious. They used chloroform on me.” She looked at the crease of her inner arm. “And once they injected me with something. I don’t what it was. I don’t know if I have a disease now.” She rubbed her arms in disgust.

“What happened after the shot?”

“I don’t remember. I passed out.”

“Maybe they only tranquilized you. When we can, we’ll get you checked out. By the way, that trick you pulled on the highway was brilliant.”

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