Penelope and Prince Charming (Nvengaria #1)(102)

Damien knew the attack was coming, but he wished Felsan had waited until they were higher in the mountains, in Damien’s own territory. He wanted to capture Felsan, truss him up, and deposit the man face-down at Alexander’s feet in the throne room of the Imperial Castle.

How the devil the man had deduced what route Damien would take, he did not know. One moment, they walked through cool woods, the next, Wulf gave a sudden whimper, and they were surrounded by men with drawn pistols.

“Hell and damnation,” Egan said. He drew a dagger from his belt and he, Petri, and Titus formed a tight circle around Penelope and Sasha.

The leader of the band, a huge man with close-cropped blond hair and sunburned flesh, held his pistol on Damien. “Do not kill the woman,” he told his men. He spoke in blunt, hard English with the barest trace of accent. “Only the prince. If the others make it necessary, kill them as well. But not the woman.”

Damien wondered why the declaration, in English, when Felsan’s men should already know their orders. He realized that Alexander wanted both Damien and Penelope to know that he would not order Penelope’s death.

He must believe I will think better of him when I see him in hell.

“I commend you on your ability to track me,” Damien said in German.

Felsan grinned and ran his tongue across the ball of his thumb. “The Austrian woman, she screams very hard.”

Damien went cold and something evil tightened inside him. He gave Felsan a rigidly silent stare, but Egan growled like a bear. “You’re dying for that, you mother-loving bastard,” Egan said.

Felsan shrugged. “Do not worry, Scotsman. I left her alive. He said I was not to kill any of the women.”

Damien heard Wulf whimper again. The boy suddenly pushed his way between Titus and Petri and hurtled into the woods, disappearing into the underbrush. A mercenary raised his pistol, but Felsan signaled him to stop. “No women. No children. Only the prince.”

Felsan smiled at Damien, showing white but crooked teeth. “Step out and take it like a man, Your Highness,” he said in Nvengarian. “Do not let one of these good servants leap in front of the bullet and sacrifice himself for you.”

Titus snarled, his young face red with fury. “I would die a thousand deaths for my prince before I let you kill him.”

Felsan chuckled. “One death only will be necessary, boy.”

“Titus,” Damien said clearly. “Shut up. I need you to take care of the princess. Do you understand? You guard her with everything you’ve got.”

Titus went quiet, his eyes glittering with rage, but he gave Damien a nod.

Damien studied Felsan, gauging the type of pistol he had, how far it would shoot, and how accurately. “If you want me, I will step away from the others,” Damien said. “So that if you miss you will not hurt them.”

Felsan’s grin widened. “Was ist das? You will not try to pay me more money to spare your life?”

“You would take my money and shoot me anyway,” Damien responded calmly. “A mercenary who gains the reputation of not staying bought is never again employed.”

“A perceptive man you are.” Felsan gave him an admiring nod. “Also, gut. Stand there.” He pointed a thick finger at a tree to Damien’s left.

“May I say my good-byes to my wife?”

“Veileicht. If she moves from the others. I do not trust your friends not to hand you weapons.”

Damien glanced at Penelope. “Love,” he said softly. “Come here.”

Penelope’s face was stark white but her beautiful eyes held great anger. She stepped from behind Petri and walked slowly to Damien.

Damn Felsan, damn Alexander, damn the prophecy, and damn all assassins.

Damien had at last discovered something that filled the empty places inside him, that ended the loneliness and let him rest in darkness without fear. He’d found Penelope after a lifetime of searching—not even realizing he’d been searching for her. Now that he’d found her, he’d had so very little time to spend with her to learn her and delight in her. Both Alexander and Felsan deserved a special place in hell.

He reached for Penelope’s hand and drew her close. She searched his face as he brushed his thumb across her cheek and leaned to kiss her.

Damien savored her mouth and the flash of her tongue against his. He knew she thought he had a brilliant plan that would save them all and destroy Felsan, letting them flee into the mists.

He did have a plan, but it was far from brilliant and depended on much luck. Felsan was slowing them down and had very nearly wrecked what Damien had set up, the stupid man. Midsummer’s Day was too close, only days away. They did not have time for this.

Damien eased the kiss to its end, his lips clinging to hers a final moment, then he touched Penelope’s cheek again “You do what Egan and Petri tell you, all right? Promise me.”

Penelope’s gaze roved his face. “Damien …”

“Promise me.”

She watched him a moment longer before she wet her lips and nodded.

“Good.” Damien brushed his mouth to hers once more then peeled her hand from his. “Go stand with them.”

Penelope swallowed, nodded again, and turned to obey. She still believed he had a brilliant plan. He hoped she would not be too disappointed.