Still, both the truck and the van that had blocked the road had been pointed—just slightly—back down the mountainside. That could’ve been a misdirect, but he doubted it. The abductors had positioned their vehicles that way in case they needed to make a quick escape.
Trusting both his meticulous training and his instincts, Thomas began the long hike back the way they’d come, down toward that last gas station, in the direction those vehicles had been pointing, certain that whoever had taken Tash had gone that way, too.
It didn’t matter that he was naked and cold, or that his head was throbbing painfully with every beat of his heart.
I promise, I’ll find you...
He’d never uttered truer words in his life.
Hewouldfind Tasha and make sure she was safe—and God help anyone who got in his way.
Chapter Two
Twenty-four hours earlier: Saturday
Thomas King’s brain was on fire.
His head had full-on exploded at Admiral Francisco’s request. Just...boom.
I need you to do me a favor, Lieutenant. I know you’ve got some downtime coming, and, well, Tasha insists on going to meet her boyfriend’s family at their ski lodge in the mountains in a remote part of western Maine—she’s flying out on a red eye tonight, and... Mia and I need you to go along to just... you know. Make sure she’s safe.
Thomas couldn’t sayno—at least not the way he wanted to, with hysterical laughter and a loudAre you fucking kidding me...?
First of all, lieutenants, particularly those who were junior grade like Thomas, didn’t drop f-bombs in lunchtime conversations with admirals—even admirals they’d known since their high school days. Even admirals they still sometimes calledNavy—in private, of course—which was the nickname he’d given this man back when Thomas was a kid of seventeen and Alan Francisco was still just a lowly lieutenant.
Although these days—in private, of course—Thomas mostly called his longtime mentorAlan. Especially when talking to the admiral’s wife Mia, who’d been a friend to Thomas long before they’d both met Alan and his precocious red-headed niece, Tasha.
Tash was now twenty-three, a college graduate, living in Boston. She still had masses of red curls, and she was also still as independent and ferociously strong-willed as she’d been as a child.
Back when Thomas had first met her, she’d been a little obsessed with him, purely because his last name was King. Back then—God, she was maybe five years old at the time—she’d liked to pretend she was a princess. Tash’s mom—Alan’s sister, Sharon—had been a hot mess, so Thomas understood the little girl’s desire to lose herself in fantasy.
Funny thing was—yeah, that was definitely humor he was feeling back beyond his overwhelming, head-exploding disbelief—Tash had grown up and gone off to college on the east coast, and was now dating a real, full-pedigree prince.
So when Alan—Admiral Navy—saidmeet Tasha’s boyfriend’s family, he was talking meet the freaking queen and her husband, the royal consort of Ustanzia.
And come on, Uncle Crazy. Like Queen Wila wouldn’t have a top-notch security team in place at her remote family compound...?
It was obvious that Alan knew exactly what Thomas was thinking as they sat in the man’s favorite local San Diego lunchtime spot, across from each other in his favorite padded booth. He said, “Yeah, I know there’ll be security at the lodge, but you damn well know that if there’s an incident, Tasha’ll run toward the danger and risk her own safety to shield the prince.”
Thomas sincerely doubted the security detail would allow that to happen, but he respectfully kept his eyebrows from going too far north as he steadied himself by looking around the busy restaurant that had become a SEAL Team Ten hangout. Not only was the food great at Werewulf’s, but in the evenings they ran classic SF movies—mostly post-apocalyptic gems—on a giant flat-screen on the wall. The audio track could be accessed via WiFi, and the owner, a friendly woman named Greykell Perks, even had high-end, noise-cancelling headphones for patrons who wanted to eat dinner and watch the films in absolute, uninterrupted peace.
According to the blackboard, ‘Wulfs was showingBuckaroo Banzaitonight. As Thomas breathed, he comforted himself by knowing that as bad as this request from Alan might seem, at least he wasn’t going to be tortured by space aliens anytime in his near future.
Although, okay. If Prince Idiot was bringing Tasha home to meet his parents, he was serious about her. So unless the royal parents didn’t particularly like the idea of her marrying their son....
She was, after all, an unruly American.
And, no. Their failure to protect her was as unlikely a scenario as his own potential impending torture by fictional characters.
Alan had taken Thomas’s long silence for the commentary that it was and was already shaking his head as Thomas finally met his gaze. “Yeah, I know, that’s just me being overprotective,” the admiral admitted. “Ihavechecked out the queen’s security detail. The team is decent, but...” He smiled ruefully. “They’re not SEALs.”
And there it was: the one argument Thomas couldn’t deny. Add into it the fact that none of the members of the queen’s security detail werehim.
But Thomas didn’t sigh heavily. At least not externally. Instead he simply nodded as Greykell brought their burgers to the table.
“Thanks, Grey.” He smiled at her before turning back to Alan. “I’ll make sure she’s safe,” he told the man—who was asking him to do this not as the top of Thomas’s chain of command at SpecWar, but as a long-time friend. “But that’s all I’ll do. She’s a grownup, so if you’re asking me to police her behavior in any way, or to keep her from—”
“God, no,” Alan interrupted him. “Of course not. I mean, this kid—Tedric—he’s notmyfirst choice for Tasha. He’s way too entitled and self-absorbed, but... she’s been with him for over a year. She says she loves him, so... They moved in together a few months ago.”
