“This is crazy. This is not reality. I can’t be forced to get married. None of this is real.” She looked at the other girls. “But I will get out. And I will take your letters and get them to your families. And I will come back for you.”
Fiona turned away from their disbelieving eyes. She was going to get out. If not by herself, then when Kelan came back for her. This wasn’t going to be her life. She yanked the drawers in the sideboard open, searching for some paper and pens. She found some in the third drawer.
The girls sat at the table and began scribbling madly. Fiona silently ate her breakfast as she watched them. Not only was she going to get out, she was going to keep her promise to come back for them.
*
The bunker conference room was empty when Max and Ryker brought the boxes in from Catherine’s storage unit. There were ten of them. Owen helped them unload.
“Let’s not dig into these until Blade’s here,” Owen said. “I think it’s going to mean a lot to him to be part of it.”
“Fine,” Ryker said. “But I want to be here too.”
Owen looked at him. “I don’t have a problem with that.” He looked at his watch. “I need to ask a favor, Cord.”
“What’s that?”
“Most of our team is down in Colorado today. I could use another pair of eyes here at the house until they get back.”
Ryker looked from him to Max. “Sure. I’m off today.”
“Max, get him a handgun. I want him armed.”
“I’m a convicted felon, Owen.”
“An exonerated one.”
“The exoneration hasn’t come through yet. And I haven’t shot a gun in almost three decades.”
“Noted. When things calm down, I’ll have Blade spend some time with you at the shooting range so you’re ready if we find ourselves short-handed again.”
Chapter Thirteen
Fiona was in her closet after the girls left. She waited anxiously for enough time to pass that she could follow them into the tunnel without their knowing. She heard someone enter her room. She came out of the bathroom to see whom it was.
Mr. Edwards. Whether he was King or not, the man gave her the willies. With his wiry build, his strange, short nose, and his predatory grin, he seemed more of an enforcer of sorts, not the man capable of masterminding tunnel systems like those in King’s Warren, and all the other wicked things he’d put into motion.
But wasn’t that the powerful thing about King? No one really knew who he was or if they’d seen him.
She caught her hands together so that he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Are you King?”
The man laughed. “I told you who I am.”
“I’d like you to leave my room, Mr. Edwards.”
The fake affability left his face. “I don’t care what you’d like. Your wants, your needs, your hopes, your dreams matter nothing against those of your father. Your entire life you have been spoiled and coddled. Now, he’s calling upon you to do your duty. You will stand up and do as he wishes.”
“My father can go to hell.”
Mr. Edwards’ hand shot out, but stopped before connecting with her face. She cringed as if the strike had happened. “We all do what is asked of us.”
“Maybe you do, but I don’t blindly follow madmen. If you’re going to kill me, do it.”
Again, the thin smile of his carved space across his teeth. “You aren’t required to live very long. Just how long that is will be entirely dependent on you.”
Fiona thought of all the deaths her father had caused. What if she couldn’t find a way out and Kelan couldn’t find a way back to her before the wedding tomorrow? She had to go along with the crazy they all lived by here; she had to live long enough to return to reality.
Her expression must have changed, for Mr. Edwards visibly relaxed. “Very good. Yes, very good.” He walked away, but paused by the door to her suite. “I have a special treat planned for you—lunch with your fiancé.”
“The War Bringer.”
“The true War Bringer. The man hand-selected by King for a very important role. Be ready in fifteen minutes. You will be escorted to him.”
*
The guards came for her precisely fifteen minutes after Mr. Edwards left. She followed them meekly, and hated that weakness about herself. She couldn’t battle her way out. Maybe she could think her way out. If she truly was King’s daughter, then she had his smarts. She’d chosen to be like her mother—always letting kindness rather than cunning be her guide.
Not for the first time, she wondered about her mom…how had she crossed paths with King? Were they in love? Was she just a useful female? And why, why had her mom never mentioned this dark world?
She glanced around her at the elegance of the hall she was escorted through. It looked like a European art museum. Interspersed with the sculptures and paintings were huge floor-to-ceiling red and purple banners with words in languages she didn’t know. Occasionally, they were in English, and those talked about a new world order.
It was a grand show. A theater of dominance. The scale and arrogance reminded her of the Nazis she’d learned about in history class, how rapidly their claimed superiority became true superiority, letting them perpetrate crimes on their own people and the whole world.
Was this another attempt to grab power? A Fourth Reich crawling up from the grave of the Third Reich? She had no doubt Kelan and his team would stop it. In time. But they weren’t here and she was. She had to play her role and harvest what information she could for them.
She was going to step up, step in, become…what she hated.
And it would be the most convincing performance she’d ever done, because her life depended on it. Maybe Kelan’s too…and that of everyone else living at Blade’s.