Sūnder (Darksoul Book 1) Page 29

  “I have failed as a gay man,” Gabe grumbled.

  “How so?”

  “I have two left feet and stomped all over my dance partner’s shiny leather shoes. Don’t look down, the black is distinctly brown. I promise to shine them myself when we get back to the ship.”

  Sūnder wrapped his tail around Gabe’s ankle. “I stepped on your feet a time or two myself, so the woes of failure aren’t solely yours to claim.”

  Gabe laughed, glancing up at Sūnder. “Look at you! Take you to a fancy ball and suddenly you have a silver tongue.” Gabe’s voice lowered, deepened. “I would rather you did something else with that tongue of yours.”

  Sūnder attempted to whisk Gabe away, but before they made it even half way across the dance floor they were stopped. As the evening lengthened dancing, pictures, and food, all the while answering polite questions took up most of their time. Sūnder never left Gabe’s side, sensing his discomfort. Occasionally Gabe stumbled over words, nonetheless Sūnder was pleased with how well Gabe held up under the scrutiny of so many. If others thought Gabe acted oddly or was at times too blunt, no one said anything to draw attention to it. Most were polite, some too much so, but Sūnder didn’t care as long as Gabe was treated with respect.

  He focused on keeping Gabe safe, and that helped keep his mind off the few who stared or outright glared. He’d spotted Tālia in the crowd a couple of times, and made sure Gabe knew who she was so that he could steer clear of her. For some reason, she stayed away from the L’fÿn dömini and döminá and other Chándariān dignitaries. Sūnder didn’t fail to notice how Dömini Koi’s expression turned stormy, angry even, when he saw her, or how Tālia glared daggers at her father’s back, yet when he met her eyes her expression became one of serene innocence.

  Not for the first time, Sūnder was eager to return to his country and leave all the political games and danger behind. The thought of Gabe being in the middle of court intrigue sickened him. The end of the Festival, and the meeting with Mèlindria, couldn’t happen soon enough.

  Moving off the dance floor again, Sūnder directed Gabe toward a corner for a bit of solitude. They had a couple of hours to go before they could excuse themselves, but Sūnder was feeling muddled and needed a bit of quiet. As much as they could get at the Festival, anyway.

  Locating an abandoned table on the outer edge of the floor, Sūnder pulled out a chair for Gabe. Having the Festival on the rooftop was a novel idea. The night sky was dark overhead, only one or two stars brilliant enough to shine through the bright lights of the cityscape, but the man-made view was amazing, so different from rooftop overlooks in Sūnder’s home city of Wūxbury, and made up for the lack of the stars. Sūnder poured both of them a glass of water before he, too, sat. For several long moments he enjoyed the quiet, Gabe leaning against him, his head resting on Sūnder’s shoulder.

  It was easy to see how people had paired off, the air filled with hope for the future. Together the couples each wrote their names on the data ports provided at the tables, sorting out who they would leave with at the end of the night. The governments would file the information for future reference, and at the end of the Festival the pairs would be announced, the first of many such proclamations. Sūnder located Ronan in the crowd, speaking with Akirá. Would those two enter their names and be mated?

  “How are you feeling?” Gabe asked, watching Sūnder’s hand. Sūnder looked down. When had he started rubbing his stomach?

  Honestly, he was feeling a bit sick, and thought he might be running a fever, but all the dancing had caused him to sweat so he wasn’t sure. As he considered how to tell Gabe this without alarming him, Sūnder’s stomach suddenly cramped, the pain so sharp he lost his breath.

  “Sūnder?” Gabe’s voice rose an octave.

  He met Gabe’s eyes, blinking the sting of sweat away, finally ready to admit what he hadn’t wanted to face. “Something’s wrong.”

  25

  GABE PRETENDED CALM as he took Sūnder’s pulse. His mate did not look healthy, and Gabe cursed himself for not insisting Sūnder see Dr. Lashūl the moment he’d noticed the raised knots on Sūnder’s stomach. His heart rate was a little higher than Gabe would like, but not dangerously so. Grabbing an unused linen napkin, Gabe cleaned the sweat off Sūnder’s face and brow. He glanced around, looking for Paulo. Gabe didn’t want to wave his hands around to get the knight’s attention, but Paulo was across the room escorting A’yrē…

  Remembering Sūnder’s earpiece, Gabe moved around and plucked the device from Sūnder’s ear. Instead of protesting, Sūnder sucked air through his teeth and curled forward until his forehead rested on the table. Seriously worried, Gabe rubbed soothing circles on Sūnder’s upper back as he fitted the device into his own ear. Sūnder had said it didn’t need a microphone, just press and hold to send instead of receive.

  His hand trembling slightly, he pressed until he heard a click. “Captain Paulo,” he said softly, then released the button.

  He watched Paulo and A’yrē, seeing Paulo halt. When Paulo didn’t immediately reply, he wondered if he didn’t do something right. Paulo did a slow pan of the crowd and when he met Gabe’s gaze, Gabe quelled the urge to give a little wave. He pressed the device. “Sūnder is ill. We need to leave and have Dr. Lashūl meet us at the Chándariān hospital.” He released the earpiece and waited.

  “Maintain your position, Gabe,” Paulo replied before he began issuing orders. “Team One, have the hovercraft brought around to garage level. We cannot take him out the front. Team Two, secure our exit path. I shall inform His Majesty now.”

  Relieved someone knew what to do, Gabe let out a breath he hadn’t realized he held. Akirá neared them, his gaze steady on Sūnder’s bowed head. “I noticed Sūnder’s knights have moved from their assigned positions. Has he been poisoned?”

  Gabe was horrified by the question. He hadn’t considered that possibility. “I don’t believe so. He has a pre-existing condition that has… flared up. We’re taking him to the hospital.”

  “I shall get Ronan and we will come with you,” Akirá said before spinning in a swirl of red silk to disappear back into the crowd.

  Sūnder mumbled something Gabe couldn’t quite hear. “What did you say?”

  “I’m sorry.” Sūnder leaned back, attempting to sit up straight but failing. “I have ruined your evening.”

  Gabe’s heart hammered in his chest at the barely concealed fear in Sūnder’s voice. “No, you haven’t. I was looking for a reason to leave early anyway.”

  Sūnder gave a pained snort of disbelief.

  “My evening was perfect,” he promised, tenderly brushing Sūnder’s crimson mane out of his eyes. “You’re going to be really embarrassed if we get to the hospital and find the issue is only gas.”

  Sūnder huffed a pained chuckle.

  Paulo whispered in his ear. “Gabe. Behind you is the stairwell. Take that to the next floor. One of the knights, Dÿal, is waiting for you next to the elevators. He will escort the two of you to the garage level. The car is waiting there. Once I accompany Prince A’yrē to King Valiant—” Paulo cut off, and Gabe could hear someone speaking to Paulo in a low voice, but only Paulo’s responses were clear enough to understand. “No, you will not be coming with us … I shall do my … Absolutely not. You are the heir and will … No, sir, you … Prince A’yrē, I … Ah, Princess Válora, if I may have a word. Sun and stars, I didn’t turn off— Gabe, are you still there?”

  If Sūnder hadn’t been in so much pain, Gabe would have laughed aloud with how much A’yrē flustered Paulo. “Still here.”

  “Go now. I shall be right behind you.”

  Gabe didn’t respond, only urged Sūnder to his feet. “Time to go. I know I probably don’t have to say this, but try to walk normally if you can. We don’t want people stopping us to ask questions.”

  Sūnder nodded and stood, almost to his full height. Gabe took his elbow, as he had when they’d entered, and directed them toward the obvious exit in the corner o
f the rooftop. Once they were through the door, Sūnder listed away from him and Gabe rushed to catch him, staggering under Sūnder’s weight.

  “Sorry,” Sūnder mumbled, sounding exhausted.

  “’S ’kay,” Gabe hissed, praying they didn’t fall down the stairs.

  When Sūnder grabbed the handrail he relieved Gabe of most of his weight, which made things a little easier. Until Sūnder bent forward, moaning in pain, and sent them stumbling down a couple of steps far too quickly. Gabe struggled to get a better hold on Sūnder before he could pitch head-first down the stairs. Why does this have to be so hard?

  “Dammit, Sūnder, hold on to me. Let me take some of your weight,” Gabe demanded, perhaps too harshly, his heart in his throat as he shouldered his way under Sūnder’s arm.

  “Don’t want to squish you,” Sūnder panted out.

  “You can’t get rid of me that easily. The worst you could do is make me shorter. Then where would you be, explaining to everyone that your mate isn’t a child, you just took a couple of inches off him in a squash attempt?” Gabe didn’t concentrate on what he was saying, only trying to keep Sūnder focused on him instead of the pain. Somehow, he managed to get them down the flight and through the door to the sixth floor, though he was dripping with as much sweat as Sūnder by the time they got there.

  Grateful there was only one direction they could go, Gabe walked as fast as he dared with Sūnder leaning so heavily against him. He kept watching for the knight who was supposed to meet him, sure the male wouldn’t wait uselessly by the elevator with Sūnder this sick. The more he thought about it, the more Gabe’s steps slowed. Sūnder’s knights had always been right there. Why weren’t they now?

  Backtracking to an alcove partially hidden by a plant, he rested Sūnder against the wall there. “Stay here for a moment. I need to see where Dÿal is.”

  Sūnder gripped his wrist in a surprisingly hard clasp. “No. Stay here with me and wait for Paulo.”

  “It’s probably nothing,” Gabe argued softly, not liking the paleness of Sūnder’s normally dark complexion. It was just alarming for him to be so ashen. “I’m only going to take a peek and make sure the way is clear before I take you to the elevators.” Gabe extracted his wrist from Sūnder’s firm grasp, accidentally brushing the plant. It quivered peculiarly at his touch, but he didn’t have time to discover why. Sūnder needed him right now.

  “It’s not nothing. Someone should have met us.” Sūnder groaned, hunching over.

  “If that’s so, all the more reason for you to be hidden.” If there was something afoot, Gabe could call Paulo on the earpiece and then lead the trouble away from Sūnder. He smiled, twisting away when Sūnder grabbed for him. “I’ll be right back.”

  Sūnder gasped in pain, sliding down to kneel on the floor. “Stay,” he panted.

  Gabe teetered on indecision. Stay or go? The need to protect Sūnder gnawed at him. He struggled with the decision—stay as Sūnder requested, or go to make sure Sūnder was safe?—absently caressing the leaf for comfort as he considered.

  “Guardian?” The plant responded.

  Yes! He had help! How did he do this last time? Haltingly, Gabe spoke distinctly. “Hide Sūnder, please.” He felt extremely foolish speaking to a plant aloud. Sure, he did it at home all the time, but this seemed different. The potted palm puffed up and spread its fronds, completely disguising the alcove.

  Whispering a thank you, Gabe sneaked away on quick, quiet feet down the hallway. He wished he knew how to contact Dÿal. Although Paulo had used the earpiece broadband to give orders to the teams earlier, Gabe hadn’t heard any chatter since, and he knew Paulo could contact Dÿal because he’d done it earlier without Gabe overhearing. He considered broadcasting and telling Paulo… what? That he had a bad feeling because he hadn’t run across Dÿal yet? Paulo had said the knight would meet him at the elevators. What would he say if Gabe contacted him to say they’d come out of the stairwell, and he’d thought, what? That he thought it out of character Dÿal hadn’t been there waiting to escort them to the elevators when it wasn’t the plan? Yeah, that’d go well. He’d check out the elevators, see if the knight was there. If he was, he’d make Dÿal come back with him to get Sūnder, no harm done. But if something was screwy, and not in the hot-for-Sūnder way, Gabe would get on the device and tell Paulo to hurry the hell up.

  Guilt threatened to make him turn around and go back, but he couldn’t, not without making sure there were no problems. No one could battle the unknown. Fervently wishing he had one of the training staves he’d used as a teenager, Gabe stopped short of turning the corner and listened hard. Hearing nothing, he took a quick peek. The bank of elevators was unattended, the hallway vacant. Where was Sūnder’s knight? At the far end of the corridor was an intersection, a black-shod foot on its side, barely visible.

  Retreating a little ways back the way he’d come, Gabe touched the ear device and whispered, “Man down. Sūnder’s hidden on the sixth floor. I’m going to see if I can help.”

  “No, Gabe. Go back to Sūnder,” Paulo barked, but Gabe was already moving. He couldn’t leave without checking. It would only take him a moment. After waiting briefly for a reply, Paulo spoke rapidly in his native tongue, reminding Gabe that he really needed to learn Sūnder’s language. Whatever he was saying, he didn’t sound happy.

  Ignoring Paulo, Gabe walked briskly past the elevators. He rounded the corner quickly, so intent on seeing to the downed Panthrÿn he almost ran into two dark clad L’fÿns. Shit shit shit! Desperate not to reveal how terrified he was, Gabe tried for ignorance, as if he had no any idea why two darkhunters stood over an unconscious knight. “Excuse me, I’m a nurse. I need to see to the person on the floor.”

  “Oh, he will be all right, I’m sure.” The two L’fÿns moved aside to reveal Tālia of Nellá.

  Irrationally, Gabe’s rising anger overrode his fear. Gabe knew Valiant was spending the evening mending relations with Earth’s government, allaying the uncertainty that had arisen when darkhunters publicly attacked Sūnder. As Valiant’s son-in-law, his behavior reflected back on Valiant, yet Gabe couldn’t help the sneer he gave her. He should probably warn his father-in-law that he sucked at politics.

  “Ah!” Tālia grinned, her beautiful coral skin practically glowing with happiness. “So he did tell you who I am. Excellent.”

  Gabe pressed his lips together, trying not to scowl at her feigned excitement. “What do you want?” He didn’t have time for this. He needed to get Sūnder to the hospital.

  “I was curious as to why Sūnder’s personal guard scrambled and left the Festival so quickly. Sūnder seemed, I don’t know, ill or in pain when we spied him earlier. As his mother, I was naturally concerned.”

  Gabe glanced down at the unconscious knight. “I just bet you were.” Damn, he couldn’t even keep the sarcasm down.

  “Please don’t tell me you believe those lies his father tells about me. I love my son. They have kept him from me all these years.” Tālia frowned prettily, yet she’d never convince Gabe she was harmless. The right emotions might lace her words but her eyes gave her away nonetheless. They were cold, hard, and calculating. “I’m tired of waiting for Sūnder to come to me for the truth.” And Gabe had thought his mother was a barracuda; Tālia outclassed her by miles.

  “Then I suggest you go back to the Festival, find him, and beg for his forgiveness. Let me give you some advice, though. Ambushing and harming his knights won’t win his, or anyone else’s, heart.” Gabe drew himself up to his full height, although he was still much shorter than the L’fÿns, turned on his heel, and strode toward the elevators. If she was going to follow him in hopes of finding Sūnder, he’d lead her on a merry chase instead.

  “I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Gabe turned to give her a scathing reply, barely dodging the darkhunter’s grasp. The large male snarled, distracting him, and the other caught him in a steely grasp. Gabe stilled. With his newfound strength he knew he could take on one of Tā
lia’s men, but could he best both of them? He’d only practiced with Sūnder, and hadn’t trained to handle multiple attackers since mock fighting with Ronan’s family in college.

  Tālia stood at the T intersection, all semblance of congeniality gone. “I think you will keep me company for a while. Perhaps my son shall deem me worthy of a visit then.”

  “So you can try to kill him again? He won’t come.”

  “For his Prince Consort, I think he’ll do a great many things,” she replied confidently.

  Gabe refused to be used against Sūnder. Twisting, he wrenched the L’fÿn’s hand off his arm and, using all his strength, spun until a sickening crack told him that he’d broken the darkhunter’s arm. Releasing him, he turned to the second L’fÿn, charged him, and flipped him over his shoulder, then turned and kicked him in the head. Gabe flexed his hands, feeling supremely satisfied with himself. Assholes.

  An unexpected blow to the back of his neck staggered Gabe. He turned to face the new threat—Tālia—right before she kicked him in the abdomen, sending him flying backward to crash into the wall. He groaned, his inhalation ragged as he tried to breathe around the ache in his stomach. Attempting to get up on his feet caused a pain to flare in his back, stealing his breath all over again. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d taken a blow and he’d forgotten what it felt like. Curling his hands into fists, determined to not go down easy, Gabe pushed up onto his hands and knees. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and when he glanced down the hallway to where he’d left Sūnder, he grinned.

  “Do you think I am playing games, boy? Grab him and bring him,” Tālia snapped, striding to the opposite hallway.

  “It’s way too late for that,” Gabe croaked, coughing to clear his throat.

  Tālia narrowed her eyes at him, only for them to widen in surprise when Princess Válora sailed around the corner like a Valkyrie swooping down from Valhalla, or perhaps an Amazon warrioress of old, Gabe couldn’t decide. What he did know was that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look, or the painful retribution it promised.