The Lost Prince Page 10

She reached back, searching for his briefs, and took the problem in hand.

  Whoa! he thought. It was the first time someone had done that.

  Daniel’s resolve waned before her tender strokes. Luanne’s logic, if it could be called that, baffled him: Her presence kept him up, which in turn kept her up, so for both their sakes she was going to take him down. He’d have said something … if it didn’t feel so amazing.

  Luanne’s stomach was hot to the touch. Daniel didn’t remember how his hand got under her shirt, or her raising an objection. He moved it upward; her nipples were as erect as he was.

  Luanne probably expected this solution to be a quick fix. It would have been, had Daniel not already taken care of business earlier.

  “Sure can hang in there,” she said, puzzled, but also a bit impressed.

  “Sorry.” It was the only word left in Daniel’s vocabulary.

  “Elastic’s scratchin’ my wrist,” she complained.

  Daniel kicked his briefs down to alleviate her suffering.

  Another minute passed, and she whispered, “Damn!”

  Was he already screwing up? Daniel was in uncharted waters— as lost as Columbus four weeks into the voyage. He seldom understood girls when fully clothed and in command of his faculties.

  “You’re makin’ me hot,” she said.

  Luanne shifted her leg to position him in closer. She steered him to between her legs. Daniel gulped. She was very wet down there, and he realized he was on the cusp of a special moment. There was no rational part of Daniel’s mind left—only instinct. Gently he pushed, expecting her to stop him. Luanne’s only protest was an inviting moan. The heat she radiated couldn’t compete with the warmth inside her. Luanne and Daniel exchanged their body heat—like a symbiotic transference as primeval as the first mitosis. He pushed deeper until he thought her body would swallow him whole.

  “Yes!” she moaned.

  Daniel never imagined it would feel this fantastic—why would people ever do drugs or race sports cars? This was all man and woman had been created for. It was too hot now; he kicked the comforters back and they continued.

  “I’m only doin’ this so we can get to sleep,” she panted playfully.

  Luanne could make any excuse she wanted; she could no more control him now than she could a runaway train. She was his and he was hers. They continued for a timeless stretch until Luanne grasped his hands and pressed them harder into her bosom—a teacher, guiding her student through the most important lesson of his life. Luanne’s cries grew louder until she arched her back and shuddered.

  Daniel thought the whole trailer park could hear them.

  “Don’t stop!” she cried.

  Pressure built inside him—like a wave on its cusp, he held her so strongly they became one. She cried out a second time, a long feral sound as they exploded simultaneously, his body a crescendo of pleasure.

  They stayed spooned, shaking, as waves of heat emanated from them. Even now, Daniel refused to grow soft. He kissed her on the nape of her neck and on her cheek.

  “Dang! What’s it take to put you down?” she said, breathing heavy. Despite the complaint, she squeezed herself around him, locking him in. “Cody’s usually done in two and snorin’ at three.”

  Daniel pulled her T-shirt off all the way. It excited him to feel her completely naked against him. He situated himself on her missionary style. She wrapped her calves over his legs.

  “Let’s find out,” he said.

  She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back.

  He kissed her passionately. This time he didn’t go gently. Luanne uttered a sharp, “Oh,” and bit his lower lip. She grabbed the back of him with her hands and pulled him into her. Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this excited about life—been this happy. He believed that in his dotage, despite whatever else he might accomplish, this night would still rank at the top of the list of best things that had ever happened to him.

  Somewhere in the recesses of Daniel’s long-abandoned rational brain, a tiny molecule cried out for attention. Who’s Cody? it asked. Luanne kissed him. That voice, drowned out by more pressing matters, faded into the background.

  CHAPTER 9

  IN THE NAME OF LOVE

  1

  Danel. Cat turned the name around in her head. Before today, the prince was a concept—an abstract—a storybook character Snow White awaited to save her from a witch’s curse. Now he was real—flesh and blood with parents who loved him and a guardian in the form of Catherine’s husband sworn to protect him come hell or high water.

  They were a block from the clerk’s office waiting for Gloria Hauer to finish work. Lelani paced the sidewalk; Seth snored softly across the backseat. Callum sat pensively in the driver’s seat, one arm on the rest, the other wrist hanging over the steering wheel ready to move. His breath came out in soft white puffs; the cold didn’t bother him. Cat was adept at reading the subtle changes in her husband’s moods—but you’d have to be blind deaf and dumb to miss how sullen and tightly wound he’d become these past few days. Two worlds rested on his shoulders, and the fates of his families were stuck between them. It was too much for any man. Cat turned up the SUV’s heater and sipped her mochachino.

  He was still the person she married and loved—still the father of her baby, even if he answered to “my lord” these days. He had whipped Bòid Géard around skillfully in Dumont’s basement. His movements had been pure poetry, cutting the air silently, like the sword weighed next to nothing in his hand. She thought of him jabbing that thing into men in a fight, hacking out bits of their flesh—their blood running all over his arm with bits of bone and intestine splattered on him. This was her gentle giant: a man who, after a decade in the NYPD, had never drawn his gun in anger, never killed anyone. Brianna’s father was the kindest most truthful man she’d ever met—and lurking underneath, perhaps all along, a butcher. Cat felt nauseous—a sudden burp of hot foulness made its way up her chest. She cracked the window to get at some of that country air.

  Cat placed her hand on Callum’s arm. The muscles were tight as steel coils, but at her touch, the tension abated. A good sign that even with all that’d happened, he still welcomed her caress. He took her hand gently and laced their fingers together.

  “I should bring you on all my stakeouts,” he said.

  “You’d lose all your marks,” Cat answered. “Only reason we’re not steaming up the windows is we have ‘the kids’ with us.”

  Seth grumbled, “Ewwww,” from the back.

  Cal’s phone rang. It was the local police. Cal had told the sergeant as much of the truth as he could at Dumont’s house. Lelani’s silver flower pin, imbued with a truth enchantment, helped push the few white lies through without much effort. Cat wondered if the pin’s effects had worn off. Cal would have to be careful on the phone since the pin’s enchantment didn’t travel over cell phones.

  When he hung up, he told Cat, “Local PD is looking at Dumont and Sweeny as related homicides. There’s a suspicious third death as well. A local named Steve Hauer was found dead in his pool.”

  “Steve … Hauer?” she said. Cat looked at the clerk’s office and then again at her husband.

  “Yeah—same as the clerk we’re trailing,” he said. “Story is he was sweeping dead leaves around the pool, slipped, got tangled in the winter tarp, and ‘drowned.’ Coincidence? I’d lay money the autopsy won’t find water in Hauer’s lungs.”

  “You think the gumshoe’s covering his trail,” Cat said.

  Cal shrugged. There was no evidence of anything. What they did know was that Gloria Hauer had lied to them—she was involved in whatever happened thirteen years ago. People around her were dropping like flies. Was she a murderer hiding evidence? Did Dorn steal her heart as well? Or was she a potential victim?

  Normally, Cat would not be concerned with how Cal went about his work but the personal nature of this investigation had changed her husband. And not for the better, she thought. He’d mispl
aced that reserve of patience she found so endearing about him, and in fact, depended on to counter her own quick temper. At six foot five, Cal could be intimidating even when calm. As tense as he was now, coming off nonthreatening was unlikely. And what if Gloria was innocent? What if this was the worst day in that woman’s life, hearing about the deaths of people she loved? And what if she was scared out of her mind?

  Gloria exited the clerk’s office early. She was visibly upset and looking over her shoulder and down the street on the way to her car. There was no doubt news of the double murders had reached her. Cat’s gut instinct told her the woman was no murderer, but she was neck deep and on the wrong end of whatever was happening. Cal put the car in drive and Lelani squeezed into the rear compartment. The centaur’s illusion couldn’t fool the Ford Explorer’s suspension as the weight of a small horse tipped the back of the vehicle down. The thought that they’d need to get new shocks entered Cat’s head.

  From a discreet distance, they followed Gloria home.

  “Cal…,” Cat started in.

  “Mmm,” he grunted, focusing on Gloria’s car.

  “What are you planning to do?” she asked.

  “In what way?”

  “How do you intend to confront her?”

  “Don’t know,” he said.

  Cat waited a moment to see if that was all he had. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. “You are not going to barge in on that woman’s family.”

  “She knows where the prince is,” he said. “Every instinct I have says so.”

  “I understand. But, keep things in perspective. Gloria Hauer is not some all-powerful villain. She’s not from an alternate universe. She is a clerk in a small town in upstate New York, driving a beat up Chevy Cavalier. Don’t assume she’s all knowing. There’s no proof she benefited from your group’s misfortune—you might want to think through how to approach her. Her family may know nothing of what she’s involved in. There could be children…”

  “Cat, I am a step behind Lord Dorn and running out of time…”

  “Damn it, Cal! We’re not breaking into these people’s house like Dorn’s monsters did to us!”

  Cal drove with the silence of a man knowing his spouse was right. The silence of the woods around them belied the mood in the car. Seth was fully awake and sitting up at this point but, for once, he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. Cat turned around to see what Lelani was up to. The centaur was looking right at her with a guarded expression. It was hard to tell if she was sympathetic to Cat’s wishes, or in favor of Cal’s no-holds-barred approach. Did it matter? She was a soldier and Cal was her lord.

  2

  Gloria Hauer’s Chevy turned into the driveway of a prefab ranch-style home on a two-acre parcel secluded from the neighbors by a healthy smattering of trees. It was hard to tell the color of the house in the dark. The mailbox had B&G Hauer in big vinyl letters on the side. Through their large bay window, Cat spied Gloria falling into her husband’s arms and he hugged her tightly. Their daughters were in tears, and the two dogs barked at the emotional outpouring. Steve Hauer and Nathan Dumont must have been very close. Cat was grateful for the seclusion the Hauers’ property afforded them. Whatever Cal needed to do, Cat was certain she wouldn’t be proud of it, and wanted to be spared scrutiny from the neighbors.

  “I could just knock on the door and say I’m running a police investigation,” Cal said.

  “If a six-foot-five Viking came to our home to interrogate me, would you stand idly by while I squirmed?” Cat asked. “Even if I were guilty?” She turned to the centaur in back. “Is there magic that can put everyone asleep except for Gloria?” Cat asked.

  “I can put everyone to sleep—then revive the woman.”

  Before Lelani could start the spell, a scream emanating from the house cut through the night. Everyone jumped out of the vehicle, unsure of what to do and looking to Cal for their next move. He had pulled out his pistol, but didn’t seem to know the next move either. The lights went out in the home and only the shadows of a struggle came through the window. More screams, and the front door burst open. A terrified girl, no more than eight, ran from the home crying. Sounds of fighting followed through the door. She stopped short when she saw Cal and the group.

  “Please don’t hurt me!” she begged.

  “We’re here to help,” Cal said decisively. He reached into the backseat and grabbed his sword with the other hand. “Cat, stay with the girl. Everyone else, come on.”

  Cal and Lelani charged into the house. Seth, however, stood frozen in place.

  “Seth? What’s the matter? Go!” Cat insisted.

  “I—I—uh…,” Seth stammered. He had lost his nerve and silently implored Cat not to force him.

  “Fine!” she said in frustration. “Stay here with the girl. Don’t let anything happen to her.”

  Cat heard gunfire. As she headed into the house, she drew her Colt .32 from her jacket pocket and clicked the safety off. She wasn’t a cop or a fan of cops in general, but suddenly understood the appeal of that kind of work to some people. The rush from holding a loaded weapon in the pursuit of danger had her heart thumping a mile a minute.

  The front door afforded her a complete view of the living room to her left. Gloria Hauer was on the floor with her other daughter beside her, cradling her husband’s head. He was either unconscious or dead. She heard the clang of metal in the back of the house, perhaps in the kitchen. She was about to head back there when the hairs on her neck stood on end. Something was behind her—in the shadows. She spun around in time to get knocked on her back. Two very golden feline eyes stared into hers. It was a woman, covered in orange fur, with a tail and a very catlike face. Cat’s gun hand was pinned under a paw. The cat thing was about to rake her with a healthy set of claws when a wooden staff whacked her on the head.

  The cat thing rolled off Catherine. It sprang up, bounced off the top of the wall near the ceiling and changed trajectory toward Seth. Two hands tipped with razor talons reached out, ready to dice him like an onion.

  An arrow struck the creature in the ribs and it dropped short of the petrified novice. The creature gasped for air, coughed up blood, and then stopped moving. Lelani walked into the living room.

  “I’ve been chasing that felidae throughout the house,” she said. “Very quick—thanks for distracting it.”

  “Who are you people?” Gloria cried. “What’s going on?” The clang of metal grew louder; Cal and his opponent emerged into the dining area. Cat’s fear welled at seeing her man in danger but she was also transfixed—fascinated. He maneuvered the sword through the cramped room avoiding chairs and furniture and positioning it confidently where it needed to parry a blow or swing at his attacker. The steel had become an extension of his body. He looked in his natural element … he looked like a killer.

  Lelani moved around Cat and retrieved Cal’s gun by the couch. “The felidae surprised us and knocked it from his hand,” she said.

  “Should we shoot that other guy?” Seth asked.

  The other guy, an Aryan type as tall and solid as Callum, had his back against the wall. When he spotted the dead cat-girl, he realized he was short a partner and badly outnumbered.

  “Yield,” Cal ordered at sword point.

  The man made a show of dropping his sword—but with his other hand, he threw down several black shiny marbles. A bright flash filled the room. When it dissipated, Cat saw white spots everywhere. Everyone else shared the same effect. The man was gone.

  “Blinder spell,” Lelani said, rubbing her eyes. “Pursue?”

  “No,” Cal said. “Our night vision’s going to be iffy for a while. But shut all the doors and windows.”

  Cal stared at Seth rubbing away the spots in his vision with a most unkind expression. Seth must have sensed something because he looked up at that moment.

  “Where were you when we rushed the house?” Cal asked him.

  Despite Seth’s help during the fight in Rosencrantz’s meadow,
Cat’s husband had not forgiven him for wrecking their plans all those years ago. His patience with the porn photographer had been exhausted. They needed Seth to take on a sorcerer of Dorn’s caliber—except the boy had yet to cast so much as a Fourth of July sparkler under Lelani’s tutelage. Cal had said to Cat that watching Lelani instruct him was like watching a chimp trying to understand a computer. It was not in Cal’s nature to say something so cruel, but the kid brought these things on himself. He contributed little more than complaints and sarcasm. It was odd to think of Seth as a “kid,” but at the same time, it was accurate. Men Seth’s age led troops into battle and ran Internet companies. At twenty-six, he was a classic case of arrested development—like those grown men who still dressed like teenagers and attended comic book conventions.

  “I asked him to stay back,” Cat said. She didn’t know why she did it. He hadn’t earned any cover from her, and yet Cat felt she needed to do it to keep her husband’s temper in check. The whole world really must be turning on its head if she was the one promoting calm.

  Gloria and her daughters had managed to get her husband on the couch. He was still out cold, but not cut or bleeding. Lelani said his bruises were superficial and that he would recover. The family looked vulnerable—an image that disturbed Cat. They had charged in as rescuers, but Cat knew this night could have gone differently … they could have been the invaders.

  Gloria reached for her telephone, probably to call the police, but Cal depressed the switch to cut off the connection. He shook his finger side to side and silently told Gloria No. There would be no cops.

  Cat felt criminal violating the sanctity of this woman’s home. Was this what Cal did in Aandor? How many homes had he barged into in service to his duke? This was the United States, though; there were no vassals or peasants, at least not officially. Here, every home was a castle protected by God and law.

  “Please,” Cal asked Gloria, motioning her and her daughters to the dining room. “I need answers.”

  Gloria sat at the head of the dining room table. Cat and Seth took seats to her right, with Cat closest. Cal and Lelani remained standing. Gloria looked around at the group and said, “Please don’t hurt my family.”