Chapter 1
“Spencer, wake up.” A sting sliced through my nerves, tugging me from the darkness. “Wake. Up.”
I didn’t come quietly back from the night but was violently and suddenly tossed into consciousness.
My body lurched up, choking. My bones groaned as I arched, hacking and gulping for air. Rolling on my side, my lungs spasmed, trying to shove the gunk out. Bile coated my throat as I spit substance from my chest. Pain throbbed from every nerve in my body, but it still felt distant, like it was slowly stalking me like a predator.
“Thank god.” A hand brushed the hair away from my face, pressing a piece of fabric to my head. “You scared me for a moment.” Dim light came from a miniature keyring flashlight on the floor, giving the tiny broom cupboard definition. Sliding my gaze to the familiar shadowy figure next to me, my head tried to grasp at memories, searching for understanding.
My groggy brain took in my bodyguard squatting next to me, holding his tie against my hairline, his jacket wadded up under my head. Blood dripped from his cheekbone, neck, and forehead, his normally pristine shirt and trousers tattered and filthy. Grime coated me, covering my skin like war paint.
War.
Bomb.
Hotel.
Explosion.
Everything rushed back to me, and I sat up with a jolt, the room and my stomach spinning. “Oh, god.” My throat burned, the exclamation only coming out a whisper. “Theo? The King?”
“Whoa.” Lennox’s fingers wrapped around my arm, keeping me steady. “Go slow. You have a bad head wound. Probably a concussion.”
My fingers went up, touching the dampness soaking into my hair. I knew I was probably in shock, my body numb to the actual pain waiting underneath.
“What happened? Are they all right?” I croaked, panic thumping at my chest. The space was nothing more than a tiny storage room, but we were alive. Safe. What about everyone else?
“They are fine.” Lennox wiped at the blood trailing down his face with his arm. “Dalton has them in lockdown.”
“You know for sure?”
Lennox tapped at his earpiece. “Yes. They were far ahead of us.”
“You spoke with them?”
“Yes, but they went silent for the safety of the King’s whereabouts,” he replied. “Protocol.”
Relief fluttered at my lungs, but I still wanted to see for myself.
“Why are we still here? I want to go see Theo.” I tried to rise, shaking off his hold, but he gripped me firmly, keeping me in place. “Was anyone killed?” Though I knew there would be no way there weren’t people dead.
“I’m pretty sure, yes. At least the two bombers were.”
“We can’t just sit here. We need to help them!” I cried, shoving him away and getting to my feet. Frantic. Scared.
“We can’t.” He reached for me, but I moved around him, pushing on the door. “It’s useless. I’ve already tried. The door is blocked.”
I gritted my teeth, shoving and ramming at the exit, my stubbornness setting in, slamming my body against it. My vision blurred, my body wobbling, but I couldn’t seem to give up.
“Spencer, stop!” He yanked me back, wrapping his arms firmly around me, holding me against him, his heat and steadiness transferring to me. “You are only hurting yourself.” His deep voice rumbled in my ear. “Believe me, if there was a way, I would have gotten us out by now.”
“But…” I didn’t want to contemplate what was on the other side of the door. The death and mayhem.
Through a single tiny vent in the ceiling, I could hear sirens getting closer. Help.
But they could be coming to a scene that involved taking people to a mortuary, not a hospital. Fright gripped my lungs in its hands, squeezing. It could have been me. Lennox. Theo or the King. I was alive only because of the man next to me. He sensed it. Saved my life. But it could have gone the other way. Two steps farther, and we could have been the ones blown up.
My lungs searched for air, not able to grab any. My legs swayed under me, my vision blurring.
“Breathe, Spencer.” Lennox pressed me firmer into him, his arms wrapping around me like a blanket, his voice low and calm. “Slow. In and out.” His demand curled around me, his voice and body engulfing me. “With me. Concentrate on my heartbeat, the rhythm of my chest. Nothing else.”
I sucked in through my nose, then exhaled, my lids closing, zeroing in on him. Thump. Thump. In. Out. His breath and heart were steady, soothing, bringing me back down as I tried to match his rhythm.
“You’ve done this before.” I breathed out. It wasn’t really a question. He had a dominance and ease to him. He had done this a lot.
“Yeah,” he murmured against my hair. “PTSD can come out of nowhere. I had to learn to defuse it. Being in charge of my troop, there were many times I had to talk one of my men back down. Sometimes that person was me.”
I stayed quiet, knowing nothing I could say would make what he went through, what he saw, any better. Sorry felt feeble on my lips. He was the one calming me when this probably had to be a huge trigger for him.
Exhaling again, I eased back, expecting him to let go. He didn’t.
Where the entire world around was dull and dark, he was vibrant and loud. His palm pressed into my diaphragm, the other wrapping securely around my hip as his frame flattened against mine. Adrenaline flooded my veins. My focus became hyperaware, my body responding to the feel of him against me.
Hard. Heavy. Hot.
Rubbing into my ass.
My heart started pounding again, the pulse tapping at my neck, expanding my chest—this time for completely different reasons. As if he sensed the change, his breath shifted, his fingers digging into my hip.
What the fuck, Spencer? You were almost blown up by a bomb. Theo is probably somewhere in this building, wanting to get to you.
“I’m fine now.” I jerked out of his grip briskly, brushing my bloody tangled hair out of my face. “Thanks.”
He cleared his throat, his hands going to his hips, taking a deep breath.
“They know we’re in here, right?” I looked back at the door as if the fire brigade would magically break through right then. “We have to get out. I need to see Theo.”
“They know we’re okay, but we’re not important.”
“What? I think Theo—”
“Doesn’t matter what Theo thinks or says.” He cut me off, irritation lining his forehead. “There is protocol. The King and Prince are the priority, even if it’s against their wishes. Getting them secure and safe is number one. Then I hope anyone needing medical attention would be next. We are alive and secure. We are not a priority.”
I lowered my head in shame, rubbing at my chest. He was right. I would rather those really needing help get it first. “What happened?”
“The attack was not meant for our leaders. We were just casualties of something that’s been going on for centuries and will probably never have a resolution, only more pain and death.” He stirred on his feet, his forehead creasing with grief and darkness. “I should know. I saw enough of it. Lost too many comrades to the senseless battle. You think you kill the bad guy, but a dozen more pop up in his place, even more evil and demented.”