Yes, she was okay. They’d only let her rot in prison for a few thousand years.
She stood up, put her shoulders straight, and tried to look strong. But Theo and Dankyo were nowhere to be seen. They’d not even bothered to see if she survived.
“I’ll try to get you out of this, Francine. Francine?” Her friend was gone. She smiled. At least one of them had a chance at life.
When they came for her, she said nothing, only holding out her hands to be shackled along with her ankles. And they led her away, hooded, in blackness, with no idea of where she was going—and she didn’t want to find out, for her heart was wrung empty of hope. No one cared, and no one would ever love her again.
Chapter Twenty-five
Theo put down the binoculars. The flare was fading, but he’d seen enough.
“Claire’s safe. You can pack up now.”
“Good.” Dankyo watched him a moment before issuing quiet orders to the snipers.
The long rifles sheened with blue all down their barrels. Evil-looking things, but they did their job well. Nothing else would have hit with such accuracy at this distance.
He caught Dankyo eyeing him. “What?”
“Claire recommended these.”
“Yes, I know. Your point, man?” If there was one thing he hated, it was people trying to nudge him toward the pathway they wanted him on. He’d make his own roads, thank you very much.
“They’ll be taking her to a cell for interrogation…unless sir intervenes.” Dankyo helped a house guard manhandle a rifle into its case and snap the clasps.
Theo narrowed his eyes. “Are you presuming to tell me my duty, Dankyo?”
“No. Sir. I would never presume to do that. Only to inform sir of facts of which you might be ignorant.” On the word ignorant, Dankyo had jerked the bottom of his suit coat, as if adjusting it.
“Hmph. Good.” Why had he ever hired the man? Dankyo could be an irritating bastard. Besides, exactly why was he taking the woman’s side in this? Maybe he thought it was protocol to give an employee a fair hearing before taking them out and shooting them.
He sighed. Only she wasn’t an employee. Dammit, this was an insufferable problem. It felt like someone had stuck their hands inside him and ripped out his guts.
He strode to the head of the spiraling stairs that led out of the watchtower, then paused. “Let’s get everything back to the airship. And, Dankyo, just to give you the facts…I’ve given instructions to palace security that she’s not to be hurt. Satisfied?”
He cocked an eyebrow. If Dankyo showed the merest hint of a smile, he’d demote him to cleaning pistons. To his disgust the man was straight-faced as a statue. Damn. He needed to get angry at somebody, and Claire wasn’t here. Whatever would they do with her? She’d laid herself open for the worst. An assassin who was in on a plot to kill the president.
He laid a clenched fist on the wall, felt the grit of brick grate on his skin. He couldn’t trust her. How could he let someone like that close to him? He wanted to never see her again…yet he also wanted to see her little white backside in the air so he could turn it so goddamned bright red she’d not sit down for a week. Damn!
He lifted his fist from the brick and looked at the spots of blood, felt the pain and the cold blackness inside him spread.
Chapter Twenty-six
The cell they held her in was stark yet comfortable—cream walls, a bed that folded down from the wall, a sink, a toilet, and a few books. The barred door was set into a wall of steel bars. Still, she’d have thought it luxury a month ago. Though the first guard was a hulking brute who refused to leave even when she used the toilet, he was soon replaced by another more accommodating one—one with a friendly if rugged face, and he didn’t stare at her like she was some exhibit. Thank the Lord. Having a man watch her pee was going too far.
Though they’d tried to deceive her, she was sure this cell was somewhere in the palace. The fake carriage trip and the frequent direction changes hadn’t fooled her direction sense one bit.
Not that it mattered—she wasn’t trying to escape. And she doubted she was going to manufacture some weapon while on the toilet. Maybe they thought she could squeeze through the plumbing. The odd vision made her smile. Where had that come from? She hadn’t thought she’d ever smile again.
She thought awhile. Things had a way of coming out even when you didn’t think about them. The changing of the guard…it meant something. It meant that maybe someone was looking out for her. And that maybe was like a light at the end of a very, very dark tunnel. There was only one person she wanted that someone to be. If there was the slightest hope—her eyes watered, her heart picked up the pace—if there was any at all, she’d try her very hardest to make things right again.