A Royal Rebellion (9 page)

“End this madness, Mason,” she called after him, voice fading as the distance between them grew. “Cleanse the line of Airric of his insanity.”

Mason found the secret door beneath Airric’s ancient bed. Thankful he stayed in shape after leaving the army, he slithered under the bed and let himself fall through the hole in the floor. He landed hard, and lay gasping on the dusty floor of the tunnel for a moment before picking himself up. He stood, and hit the lever next to the trap door. The door slowly lifted back into place, dropping him in total darkness.

He rested there in the dark, categorizing his injuries, how his body felt. While it was painful moving, and the contusions and burns across his torso hurt like blazes, he’d had worse. Years of being beaten and tortured while on missions for the Crown left him with a higher tolerance for pain and misery, and he was thankful for it now. Even years later, his father’s worst barely matched the least of his ordeals in the military. Though he was older now, and he hadn’t been tortured in a good long while. Physically at least, his marriage to Camilla was horrific on a daily basis. Traveling would still be a bitch, but pain was nothing against the chance for vengeance. He would push himself until he either failed or flourished.

Mason put a hand to the wall, his eyes useless. He would save the cell’s flashlight app for when the tunnel began to branch out, but for the next several hundred feet it was straight as an arrow. He walked, unafraid, hand flat to the rough stone wall.

The air was stale, dusty. Smelled of earth and old things. All would be worrisome to others, but it reassured him. No one had been in this passage in years. The secret was still safe.

Mason put a hand to his chest, the object he took from Airric’s throne safe in his pocket. He had a plan.

Get out of the palace in one piece. Sort of, but close enough.

Get out of the city without being captured. Problematic, but doable.

Find the equipment he needed to start burning down his father’s walls of deceit. About damn time.

Find Reynard and his charges. Mason would avoid looking towards Hartgrove and the northern mountains. The king and his ministers were cold men, unaware of common things like compassion and real love, so they would look where they would go, and not where decent men would. Hartgrove was were Edward went to feel safe, his place of power, and so Hartgrove was being watched for just that reason.

Edward and Reynard would take Percy not to a place where they could keep him out of harm’s way and locked away from the world.

No.

Edward loved Percy, and would want what was best for Percy, and not himself. That meant they would head east. Towards Elysian and freedom. Mason would find them in that direction.

He walked on, the dark comforting. More time to think and plan.

Chapter Six

Percy

Dawn was arriving, illuminating the forest. The SUV sat idling, the engine noise barely a ripple of disturbance in the mist and dampened quiet. Gold light seeped through the pines, and Percy huddled in the back on the vehicle, watching over the back of the seats as the guard barracks was revealed by the fleeing mist. Two vehicles, similar to the one he sat in, were parked outside the building, and there was no sign of movement. It was a small building, and never manned all the time from Reynard’s description. It was used as a place for patrols to stop on the way to somewhere else.

The main road out of the small town went directly by the barracks, and traffic was light, but steadily increasing. Their vehicle wouldn’t be the only one on the road, and Percy relaxed, waiting for Reynard to put it in gear and get them out of there.

Edward sat in the passenger seat in the front, a gun in his lap. While Edward assured him he knew how to shoot, Percy could see the stress that Edward was under just holding the weapon. He was very aware of it, as if afraid it might come alive at any moment and do something horrible.

Reynard was flipping through radio channels, static alternating between garish beats and wailing that made Percy’s ears itch in complaint. He wasn’t particularly interested in anything, merely using it as a means to pass the time. He stopped it when he got to something Edward told Percy was a news channel.

“…the video uploaded to the internet three days ago has been confirmed by independent specialists as Prince Mason. The blood prince is shown to be extensively injured, perhaps even tortured as he ascertains in the video. The short clip, only thirty seconds long, shows the second born blood prince sitting in a dark room, covered in bandages, and claiming to have been tortured by King Henry…”

Percy froze. The radio went to commercial break. Reynard’s hand, hovering over the dial, shook with a hard tremor. Edward went still, body tense, staring at the radio as an ad for beer played.

Reynard moved. In a flash he was out of the SUV, the door open, and running down the road. The sun was rising, chasing the mist, and he would alternately disappear then reappear as he ran. Edward cursed, and made to follow, but he recalled himself and sat still, though the gun was in his hand and the safety clicked off ominously. He slid out of his seat and into the driver’s, closing the door.

Percy crawled over the seat, and up to the front of the vehicle. He took Edward’s old seat, and tried to see the captain.

Reynard was at the barracks, slinking low as he ran far swifter than anyone should be able to at a half-crouch. Reynard blended in the rapidly shifting shadows, dawn’s light touching the top of the building, and creeping lower. The windows of the barracks were dark, no movement inside, and Percy held his breath, afraid to take his eyes off Reynard for even a second.

The captain, kneeling now at the rear latch of one of the vehicles, did something, and the door opened. Reynard disappeared into the big vehicle, and Percy was at ten seconds when Reynard slithered back out, closing the door with extreme care. He had a medium sized black bag over his shoulder, and he ran through the remaining mist to the other side of the road. Percy was just about to ask why he wasn’t running back to their vehicle when the front door of the barracks opened, and a man stepped out.

Edward put the SUV in gear, and they began driving. The guard had his hands up at his face, and Percy sighed in relief when he saw a white plume of smoke come out from behind his hands. The guard continued smoking as Edward drove by, staying at the speed limit. The guard didn’t even spare them more than a casual glance as they passed.

Percy tried to see Reynard in the trees as they went by the place he disappeared into, but he could see nothing past the mist and shadows. Edward drove on, and Percy turned in his seat, worried.

“Edward? What about Reynard?”

“Please, little one,” Edward said, tense and abrupt. Percy sat back, clicking on his seat belt.

Edward was mad. Very mad.

They drove for a few minutes, going slow, until they rounded a curve in the road. A shadow stepped out in front of them, and Percy squeaked in alarm. Edward stopped the SUV, and Reynard walked around the front to the rear passenger door. Edward let him in, and Percy turned in his seat, gaping at the captain.

He must have ran through the woods to meet them, and he wasn’t even breathing hard. He put the bag on the seat next to him, and Edward began driving again. Reynard pulled out a laptop and a small square device. He turned them on, tiny beeps and the even hum of electronics was the only sound for a few minutes.

“Wait a moment, my prince,” Reynard said when Edward paused at an intersection, the signs for the royal highway pointing the way. “I’m almost….I got it.”

“What?” Percy asked, peering around the seatback. Reynard flipped the laptop around, the screen showing a video paused. Edward checked the road behind them, put the SUV in park, and turned as well. His face and jaw were tight, his dark eyes furious, but Edward held his tongue.

Reynard hit play. Percy gasped, hand over his mouth.

“I won’t bother introducing myself. On the night of fireworks celebration, my little brother was almost killed by a stable master in the employ of Heritage Breeders. Those men were under the protection of my father, the king, who were attempting to steal Edward’s beloved consort Percy and return him to Heritage. There was no random assassination attempt. Percy is pregnant with Edward’s child, and my brother loves him. Percy is in danger. Edward is in danger. Not from unseen foes, but from family. Our family.”

Mason leaned forward, face inches from the camera. Dark eyes so like Edward’s were full of anger, and what Percy could only guess was betrayal. “King Henry is insane. He spent the last week torturing me because I helped my little brother escape. Don’t stop running, Edward. There is madness in the line of Airric, and it festers in our father.”

The video cut out. Percy stared, overcome by disbelief.

“It’s all over the internet, my prince,” Reynard whispered, gripping the screen. “Once one video is pulled down, it goes back up again. It’s been shared over ten thousand times already, and growing.”

“Saint’s blood, what is he doing?” Edward breathed, slumping in his seat, dark eyes shocked.

“I think we need to ask him,” Reynard said.

“How do we do that?” Percy whispered, at a loss.

Reynard pulled the laptop back around, and went tapping away on the keyboard. He paused, then turned the screen back around. He pointed, at what looked to be reports of some kind. Percy tried understanding it, but the acronyms and times were confusing, and he shook his head at Reynard, lost.

“Fuck,” Edward growled through clenched teeth, and he punched the steering wheel.

“The guards have been attempting to track Mason. They aren’t looking for us right now at all. Apparently the king is trying patch up the damage Mason is causing. They can track the videos to the places they’ve been uploaded from, but not until hours after it’s been uploaded and Mason has moved on. Mason has two more videos, all time stamped a day apart. The one I played was the first one.”

“Hold on, you said they were tracking Mason. He’s around here?” Edward asked suddenly.

“Last video was uploaded less than a hundred miles from here, around noon yesterday. The guards are attempting to find him. The whole area is flooded with guard squadrons.”

“Dammit! What is he doing?”

“Trying to save us all, I think,” Reynard said, leaning back in the seat. “There are secrets he has carried for years, and I think he’s finally in a place where he can let the lies go.”

“While bringing down the weight of my father’s wrath at the same time! We were in the clear! Those reports said they have no idea where the three of us are, but now Mason is dragging them after us!”

“No. They narrowed down the search area to a hundred miles. The guards are at the barracks here only because there is a station for them to stop for the night. They are heading out soon, back to the search grid. Mason won’t be anywhere near where he was when he uploaded it.”

“I’m getting us off the road,” Edward said, throwing the SUV into gear and driving. Trees went by in a blur for several minutes, and then he made a hard turn. Edward took them off the paved road, down a narrow dirt road surrounded by a wall of trees on all sides, until they were out of sight of the main road.

Edward threw the SUV into park and killed the engine. Dust billowed up around the SUV, covering the windshield, and Edward got out of the vehicle. Edward shouted, a wordless scream of anger and frustration. He kicked the side of the vehicle, and then fell to his shoulder on it, clutching at his leg. Percy climbed out of the SUV, and went to Edward.

“Your leg?” Percy asked, small hands going to the recovering wound. Edward moved his away, shifting so his back was to the vehicle, and Percy checked for bleeding. Edward rubbed his face, hard, breathing ragged as he tried to calm himself.

Reynard stayed in the SUV. Percy was thankful. Edward needed space. His lover was teetering on the edge again. Reynard’s precipitous actions in acquiring the hardware at the barracks, and now Mason’s unexplained move against the crown was almost too much for Edward. His master was so used to having everything go smoothly, as he decreed, and always, always being in charge.

Edward wasn’t bleeding. Though he probably hurt himself kicking the car like that. Percy leaned on the vehicle at his side, not touching. Just waiting. Letting calm down, regain his control.

Minutes passed. The woods around them came alive, a few brave birds singing. It was very late winter, nearly spring. The pines were a deep green, the bare maples and birch trees thin and wisplike in the breeze.

Percy sighed, finding the wind was calm, almost warm, and he put his hands on his belly, enjoying the peace. He listened to the woods, and he smiled when he felt a flutter under his palms. Percy reached out, and took Edward’s hand. He put it on his stomach, and he could feel when Edward sensed the same thing he did.

Their babe moved, waking up. Tiny pulses of movement, little twitches, but strong. Edward sucked in a deep breath, his whole body stilling. He pushed, so gentle, and Percy smiled with a laugh as their baby moved again, stronger—as if saying hello. Edward jumped, a surprised laugh coming from his lips as well. Percy found himself in a tight embrace, Edward rocking them both on their feet, his face peppered with kisses from his mate.

“I love you,” Edward gasped out between kisses, making Percy giggle again.