Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(88)

I had to have faith that what Jordan said was true, or I wouldn’t mentally survive the next little while.

“Where is Mattie?” I asked Nolan, giving him a hug at the same time because I was so relieved to see him alive and somewhat uninjured. Outside of a scrape on his cheek and some blood on his hands, he looked okay.

“She’s alive,” he said in a rush. “She sent me a message right after the quake, but I haven’t been able to find her anywhere. And now she’s not answering her palm reader, either.”

Fuck. “We should keep looking,” I suggested. “Maybe she got hurt or lost afterward in all this chaos.”

As we moved away from the bar, a bloodcurdling scream, louder than the dozens of other screams, drew my attention to what probably used to be the center of the room. A familiar figure stood there. At first I thought Claudette was alone, her red dress shimmering in the low light from a few scattered candelabras that had managed to survive the quake. A shadow rose up beside her, and it was clear that this had caused her panicked shriek.

“What the fuck?” I asked, lurching forward as that figure swung a blade, slicing right through the princess’s neck, silencing her in one swift move.

Jordan and Nolan took off, and once the shock of what I’d just seen passed, I did the same. Did someone just kill Claudette?

Rafe was right. This was definitely a planned event to get rid of the royals, and that could only mean one thing.

He was in big fucking trouble out there on his own. I was torn, though; I had to leave Jordan and Nolan to go after Rafe, but… They could both hold their own, and having seen that murder, would be aware of the danger. Plus they were together.

At this moment, Rafe needed me more, and if I stopped to tell them what I was doing, it might be too late.

Not to mention they’d never let me go.





Chapter 37





It was surprisingly easy to get out of the main ballroom area. The majority of the carnage was focused toward the back of the room, where all the seats and special thrones for the royals had been. Once I got free from the crowd, I found myself in familiar hallways that were barely touched by debris at all.

How was it possible to have such a destructive and accurate weapon? It had been able to pinpoint to the very fucking room. Even as I tried to imagine it, it seemed impossible not to take out the entire building at the same time.

While I hurried in the direction of the school’s helicopter pad, I tried to call Mattie. The palm reader was still so foreign to me that it was never my first thought when trying to find my friends, and in this case, it proved useless with no answer on the other side.

God, I really hoped she was okay. I needed her and Felipe to be okay.

A buzz drew my attention, and I quickly read the message.

Jordan: Where are you? There’s resistance everywhere; get your ass back here.

I didn’t stop running. He’d only reiterated what I already knew: Rafe needed my help.

A second later it buzzed again.

Jordan: Meghan is dead.

No! Fuck. As much as I hadn’t wanted to meet her, this would devastate the New American prince. And I couldn’t even be there to comfort him.

Me: I’m so sorry, Jordy. I’ll be back in a second. Stay safe.

I wanted to add so much more, but there wasn’t time. I had to focus on my current task, and the rest would have to wait.

My legs were aching so I kicked off my shoes, yanking the dress up, as I sprinted up the stairs that led to the roof. Thankfully it was on this side of the academy—that would have given Rafe a shot at getting his father there in time.

My hands smashed against the security door, one that was locked from the outside only, so it opened easily for me. I burst out into the night, the fresh air assaulting me after being inside with all the dust.

Gulping in lungful’s, I hauled ass across the wide expanse of roof, following the distinct sound of a helicopter.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

The mantra ran through my head like a prayer.

When I passed the main control tower, the huge red medevac chopper came into view. Rafe was at the side, and it looked like they were stabilizing his father.

Thank fuck. He was okay, and his dad wasn’t dead yet. I could tell by the way everyone was crowding around him hooking up all the shit. I could get back now, comfort Jordan, check on Nolan, and find Mattie, who’d better be okay.

Just as I turned, the sound of another chopper drew Rafe’s attention. Mine too.

Looking up, I was surprised to see it wasn’t red with the distinct medical logo on the side.

It was black, stealthy-looking, with a sharper nose and wicked-looking blades, the kind that could go into the types of terrain the medi-chopper couldn’t.

Was this some sort of specialist…?

Before I could even finish the thought, half a dozen black-clad people repelled off the side, landing right near Rafe and surrounding him in seconds. Turning from his dad, he shouted something, and the medevac took off, dodging the black helicopter with ease. Rafe immediately launched into action, throwing swift fists and dodging blows from the other men. That was my best hint that they weren’t friends.

This was the enemy, and he was vastly outnumbered.

I hurried forward, determined to help, even though I was dressed terribly to be of much use in a fight. This would be the last time I wore a ballgown, no matter how amazing they were.