“If she doesn’t come, I won’t be joining you.” Rocco looked at Selena. “You see, she’s my bodyguard.”
Jafaar’s brows shot up. He called a warning to his men. They both drew their weapons. Selena tossed her bag at one, then used that distraction to hit the other guy’s wrist, bending it back toward him and freeing the gun. She used a pressure point to twist his hand and turn him around so that it was halfway up his back before he even registered he’d lost his gun.
She pocketed his weapon then slammed him down on the hood of the car. “Don’t point a weapon at my boss, got it?” she said, her elbow digging into the guy’s back.
Jafaar laughed. Selena eased her hold on his man and let him straighten up. “I can see her value. I’m sure King will make an exception.”
“Very good,” Rocco said. He nodded at her to give Jafaar’s man his gun back.
The other guy tossed Selena’s bag back to her. She stowed it with Rocco’s in the trunk.
Chapter Fourteen
Kelan slowly came to his senses. The air was still; not even a scant breeze cooled the sun burning his back. He could hear ants moving through the sandy dirt as they hurried to get their piece of him. His eyes slowly focused on the busy black column, watching until they climbed up his face and into his mouth and nose.
He pushed himself to a seated position and wiped the dirt and bugs off, spitting them out of his mouth. The blue, blue sky spun around him. He had to shut his eyes until the world settled down. When he realized he was no longer in the tunnels, he leapt to his feet, ready for a threat. How long had he been unconscious?
He was alone. In a sea of prairie. It seemed the land rose and fell like the swells of an ocean.
Where was he? There wasn’t a house or vehicle or road in sight. The sun was well into the western sky. If the fake light in the garden room had been accurate, it was early morning when he’d been taken from Fiona; he’d been out for hours.
He climbed the nearest hill and tried to see if he could spot the mountains, as he would be able to if he were anywhere within fifty miles of the front range. All he saw was a whole lot of nothing. Sparse buffalo grass. Dirt. Sage and rabbitbrush. No mountains.
When he turned around again, he noticed there were tracks where he had been lying. Truck tracks. He studied them from his vantage point. They dead-ended where he’d been dumped, then backtracked the way they’d come. He jogged in a direction parallel with them. He lost sight of them in a couple of areas that were particularly rocky, but they always picked up again when the gravel gave way to dirt.
He looked where the tracks were headed. There were no buildings and no clues to where he was. He could be anywhere on the plains—in or out of Colorado. Best thing to do would be to find a phone and check in with the guys. But that was also the last thing he wanted to do. He needed their help to find the tunnels, but if he went to them, they’d insist on following him back in—possibly to their deaths; didn’t take a fool to see the only reason he had been left alive was as bait to trap the whole team.
I can’t save her. Only you can. He remembered that guy’s warning. Who was he? Not King—he was too young.
He continued to jog. He didn’t know where the entrance to the tunnels was, but the truck he’d been on from the warehouse last night hadn’t driven more than an hour east of Denver to the arena. From there to the tunnel had been less than another hour. It gave him a specific search area for when he reconnected with civilization.
The thing was, he had no idea how far he was from the arena or the tunnels.
He looked for signs of human habitation—a dirt road, a telephone pole. Anything. The tracks were still clear, which was good, because if he wasted time going in the wrong direction, he could wander for days without seeing anyone.
*
Fiona returned to her closet, hoping at last to be able to sneak out. Ellen and her friends had spent the afternoon with her, talking, adjusting the wedding gown, writing more letters. Mr. Edwards had not returned with more husband choices for her or to press his case. Obviously, her acceptance of the situation was irrelevant.
Well, they could just find another princess, because this one was out of there. She was about to open the secret door, then remembered the letters the girls had written. She rushed back into her room for them—she couldn’t leave without them. Not only was it important that their loved ones hear from them, but the letters were the only proof she’d been in this nightmarish place.
Before she could get to the secret door, it swung open and Ellen came through. She was carrying a long garment box.
“Hi.” Fiona tried to smile, but she was frustrated that her exit was foiled again. Ellen didn’t smile back. Fiona caught the edge of emotion she was barely holding back. “What’s in the box? The wedding dress you’ve been working on?”
“No. It’s for tonight.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“Another ceremony.”
“Oh.”
“I’m here to help you bathe and dress.”
Fiona tilted her head. “I think I can dress myself.” She needed to get Ellen out of her room so that she could make a run for it.
Ellen nodded. “As you wish. I’ll just leave it here, then.” She set the big box on the oblong ottoman in the middle of the room. When she straightened, she asked, “Are you sure I can’t assist you?”
“Quite. Quite sure.”
“I will return in an hour for you. Please be ready.”
“Okay. An hour. I’ll be ready.”
Fiona set the letters down and opened the box. Inside was an exquisite red velvet robe trimmed in white fur. It wasn’t fake fur. She touched the soft skin, saddened that an animal had been sacrificed for that use. She lifted the robe out, but didn’t see an accompanying dress.