Page 71 of Royal Agenda

She kicked and thrashed to no avail. Her assailant carried her inside the building and dumped her on a couch in the office.

“Caught this one looking in the windows.” Liam yanked off her hoodie.

She blinked up at Ryker and his rather large friends. Had they had this many muscles during the day or did they grow more at night? Or, maybe it happened when someone stormed their castle.

Ryker shoved Liam out of the way and crouched in front of her. “What are you doing here, la mia sirena?”

She bit her lip and glanced at the wall of men glaring down at her. There was no denying what she knew or why she was here. She wanted to be honest with him and not have secrets. These guys were part of whatever was going on with him. They should know she knew too. She drew in a breath and reached for her proof. She turned on her phone and the plate picture appeared. “I know who you are.” Her words sounded quiet even to her.

Ryker’s shoulders fell forward.

“No way!” Sean took her phone. “We scrubbed every picture off the internet.” His thumbs moved around. “A plate?” he asked Ryker.

Ryker closed his eyes. “The king had them made the year my cousin married.”

The guys passed around the phone, laughing and bemoaning that the plates were in existence at all.

“I’m checking eBay.” Sean scrolled. “Bingo!” He tapped. “Aaaaand they’re on the way.”

“Can you get me a set?” Grace asked hopefully.

“On it.” Sean kept scrolling. “It’s Ryker’s card on file anyway.”

Ryker ignored all their chatter as he stared at Grace. She met his gaze, silently asking him a thousand questions.

What does this mean for us?

Will you stay with me?

Why are you dead?

His thumb brushed over her skin. She leaned toward him and he released her hand to cup her cheek.

“La mia sirena—”

Before he could say anything else, something clattered across the floor and then hissed.

“Gas!” Liam yelled, throwing a couch cushion over the canister and his body on top of that. Men shouted. Sean dropped, rolled, and came up with a gun in his hand pointed at the door. She didn’t know they were packing–though it made complete sense now.

Ryker grabbed her hand, and Mack grabbed Ryker, shoving him toward the wall behind the desk. “Hold your breath,” he commanded them.

Mack pressed a button and the wall moved. Ryker’s grip on her hand was so tight she lost feeling in her fingers, and her shoulder hurt from being pulled. Mack shut the door behind them—he was always doing that!—and Ryker ran down a dark hallway to another door.

This one opened to the outside. “Go!” Ryker pushed her through first. She stumbled in her flip flops as she gasped for fresh air.

Twenty-Eight

Ryker released the breath he’d been holding since the sound of the canister hitting the floor. He didn’t know what type of gas it was, but he prayed Grace hadn’t breathed any in. He ran his hands over her arms and then her neck, the pounding of her pulse under her silky skin and rapid intakes of breaths reassuring him she was fine. She gripped his shoulders and then moved her arms around his neck and crushed herself against him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“I am if you are.” He moved back so he could evaluate her. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light back here, and he could make out the worry on her face. “La mia sirena do not worry for me or these men. Worry for those who have attacked us. They will not walk out of there.”

He kissed her cheek and then her nose, and as his eyes drifted shut to seal his love for her with his lips he was suddenly yanked out of her embrace.

“You dirty dog, she’s young enough to be your daughter,” growled a sinister voice in his ear.

Grace yipped in surprise and then dropped her hand over her mouth. Their eyes met and he silently told her to get out of the way. She stepped back.

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