15. Garrett

15

GARRETT

I hurled the door open, my stomach knotted. I was praying that I’d find the Princess half-awake, frowning sleepily at something she’d knocked over in her sleep. I’d apologize, close the door and—

She was limp on the bed. Unmoving. A dark figure knelt over her, his hands locked around her throat.

I bellowed a wordless cry of rage and surged across the room, fists already coming up. This is my fault! Twice, I’d heard something, but I’d second-guessed my instincts because of my own selfish feelings for her. Never again. If she could just be okay, I’d happily bury those feelings forever. Just let her be alive!

I lowered my shoulder to ram the bastard off her—

And suddenly I was knocked sideways. I slammed into the wall and went down. And looked up into the face of the second guy, the one I hadn’t seen, hiding in the shadows.

I managed to get back to my feet, but he grabbed me and swung me against the wall again. I felt the cheap plaster crack. These guys were tough, definitely military.

Emerik ran in, dived and tackled the guy on the bed, carrying him down to the floor. The Princess’s body was tugged sideways for a second and then, as her throat was released, she flopped back like a rag doll. Oh Jesus, no!

I punched my attacker in the guts, then in the face. He was a big guy, but I was pissed and my fists had all my anger behind them. He went staggering backwards, then recovered and came at me again.

I didn’t have time for this. I had to help her. I pulled the gun out of the back of my waistband and shot him twice in the chest, and he crumpled to the floor.

Emerik was on the floor on the far side of the bed, tussling with the assassin. I saw the old guy take two good punches in the ribs: he was holding up well, but it was obvious he was losing and I couldn’t shoot, not without risking hitting him. I waded in and kicked instead, hooking my boot right into the assassin’s chest, and he tumbled backwards. Jesus, it was the same pale-faced guy from the plane, the one who’d parachuted out!

I raised my gun to fire. But the assassin was too quick: he grabbed a vase of flowers off a side table and hurled it at me. It hit the gun and my shot went wide. The vase shattered on the wall to my side, spraying me with fragments. The assassin dived across the bed— Jesus, he was fast—and raced through the open door.

I took a single step after him... then I looked towards the bed. I didn’t know if she was alive or dead, but no way was I leaving her alone again.

I jumped onto the bed and fell to my knees, straddling her. She was still silent and unmoving, her head turned to the side, her long hair covering her face. I brushed it back out of the way, but her eyes didn’t open. “Your Highness?” There was no response. “ Your Highness! Please!”