Spy Girl (Spy Girl #1)

There’s a peephole, thankfully, allowing me to see inside. The room appears to be empty.

But I can feel the chaos in the air. As if someone were breathing on the back of my neck. Danger is near.

But it’s now or never.

“Can you wag the spotted dog’s tail, quickly? Without exposing yourself?”

The Prince nods, reaches out of the passageway, and moves the tail of a hunting dog carved into an ornate piece of art. Another panel within the passageway we are in slides open slowly as the panel to the War Room closes. It’s obvious it’s rarely used. I take that as a good sign. I also don’t remember this being in anything I read, and I’m hoping it’s very much a secret.

I hear the sound of boots thumping on the marble floor and then the War Room door bursting open.

The Prince’s eyes get huge. I slap my hand across his mouth to make sure he stays silent. If the gunmen were to hear us, all it would take is a machine gun aimed at the wall to take us both out. The only thing between us and them is a thin wooden panel.

Shots are haphazardly fired into the room, so I pull the Prince into the other passageway, relieved to find it made of stone.

While I’m glad the gunmen can’t see us, I hate that I can’t see them. I feel blind and part of me would rather face them.

But it’s imperative that I get the Prince somewhere safe first.

We move quickly down the passage and cover a good distance.

I stop for a moment to take my phone out, hoping to call for help.

Of course, there are no bars.

The Prince grabs me, pushes me against the wall, and kisses me. I can feel his heart racing. I tilt my face and allow my lips to brush across his. I’ve studied what stress chemicals do to the body: a heightened state of awareness, the fight or flight instinct, and a rush of adrenaline. The Prince responds as many a man who fears for his life might—who fears this might be the last time he touches a woman. His hands roughly caress the length of my body as he tightens our embrace.

In this moment, he’s forgotten he’s a Prince in danger and is acting like just a man.

As much as I am enjoying it, I can’t acquiesce. I press my palm against his chest and push him away.

“There has to be more to the poem. Where is the end and what do you do when you get there?”

He bobs his head, and I can tell he’s mentally singing the song again. Finally he says, “I’m supposed to sound the alarm.”

I have no idea what that means. The last thing I want to do is sound an alarm that will reveal our exact location, but I’ll worry about that when we get there. “Then we must go.”

I pull on his hand, but he pulls me back to his lips. “I’d rather kiss you.”

“Lorenzo, we need to get you somewhere safe.”

“Yes. You are right.”

We race through the tunnel, for at least half a mile. Most of it downhill. Like we’re heading into town.

Before I can stop him, he pulls a string causing a loud alarm to sound. Shit!

“What happens when you do that?” I yell.

“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I’ve never done it before.”

“Is there more to the poem?”

He nods and recites. “Sound the alarm. Call up the Core. Help waits beyond the door.”

“And you have no idea what lies beyond the door?”

“No, but we seem to have gone downhill, toward town.”

“Do you have any weapons?”

“No,” he says. But I do. I’m wearing my father’s watch. “How is it that you are so calm? I’m freaking out.”

“We’re safe right now, Lorenzo,” I say softly.

“This isn’t the way I wanted our date to go,” he smiles and trails a finger across my lips, his confidence returning, “although, there is some thrill in danger. Our kiss in the tunnel was exquisite.”

“And that is apparently why the papers say you are a daredevil Prince with no regard for his country.”

He kisses me again. “You’re strong under pressure. You’d make a good princess.”

“Let’s see what’s behind the door,” I tell him.

I’m not about to let him get shot and ruin my chances of being a part of Black X permanently.

I discreetly turn my watch dial to midnight and stand with my back against the wall.

“Wait. I should go first,” he says.

“You’re the future King. No way I’m going to risk a whole country hating on me. I’m going first.”

I open the door, sweep the room, and find that we are safe, inside the bedroom of a home located in town.

He grins. Looks at the bed. Looks at me. Raises his eyebrows. “A bed. How convenient.”

I don’t bother to reply. I need to sweep the rest of the home.

Once I determine that we are safe and alone, I say, “Now what?”

“I don’t know. I need to go back to the castle and check on my parents. I’ll make a call.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t!” I grab it from his hand, turn it off, take out the SIM card, and smash it into bits. “Sorry, but you can be tracked by that, and we just got you somewhere safe.”