“Where are we going?” The stone corridor they were walking through was old and dark. It looked as if it’d been built when the castle was erected. Vitki wondered if he could get a blueprint of the place, assuming he survived long enough to ask for one.
“Just keep going.” Yuval shoved Vitki from behind, pressing the barrel of the gun into his back.
“The shootings and the car that slammed into us,” Vitki said. “You planned all of that, didn’t you?”
“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Yuval replied. “It was easy to radio ahead and let them know when we were coming. You never even expected me to have a radio. Why should you? I’m one of the good guys, remember?”
Vitki ground his teeth together. He wanted to wrap his fingers around Yuval’s throat and squeeze until the man breathed his last breath. “You know I’m going to kill you for what you did to Ivo, right?”
“You can try.” Yuval started to laugh hysterically.
Vitki figured out why a moment later when he felt the butt of Yuval’s gun come down on his head, and then he felt nothing at all.
* * * *
Ivo pulled at the tight collar around his throat. The black tux was nice, but he’d much prefer a pair of jeans and a shirt. He’d even settle for a button-down shirt or a polo shirt. The bow tie was so not his thing.
“Are you done yet?” he asked.
“Almost, sire.”
The tailor was a nice guy, but geez, Ivo had so many other things he could be doing right now, like picking his toenails or gargling with glass. Anything was better than being a pincushion.
“There.” The tailor stood back, then smiled as he walked around Ivo. “You fit a suit very well, sire.”
“Thank you, but can I take it off now?” Ivo tried to keep diplomacy in his voice when all he wanted to do was scream out his frustration. “I have some things I need to see to before the ceremony.”
“Of course, sire.”
Ivo didn’t even wait for the man to help him down from the platform he was standing on. He just jumped off and then hurried back to the dressing room. He tried to move carefully when he undressed simply. He didn’t want to go through that again.
Once he was in his regular clothes, Ivo shook the tailor’s hand, thanked him for his work, and then was out the door. Someone else could make arrangements to have the tux picked up.
“Is done?”
Ivo glanced up and smiled widely at Miro. He was never so happy to see the guy in his life. “Yes, but let’s hurry before he figures out he didn’t put all of his pins in me.”
Miro chuckled as he walked with Ivo back toward the castle. “Is nice suit?”
“I guess. I’ve never worn a tux in my life. I’d be happy with a backyard barbeque.”
“What is backyard barbeque?” Man, that accent was thick.
Ivo raised his eyebrows. “You’ve never been to a backyard barbeque?”
Miro shook his head.
“It’s where you get together with a bunch of your friends, listen to music and drink beer, cook some meat over an open flame, and you can do it all in your jeans and T-shirt. No tuxedo needed.”
“Ah, is party, da?”
“Yeah.” Ivo chuckled. “It’s a party.”
“Da.” Miro nodded. “Miro like party, but we drink vodka.” Miro grinned. “Vodka good. Miro like vodka.”
Ivo grinned right back. “Ivo like vodka, too.”
“Da, is good.”
