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  “I am here to see the king,” Gregory stated belligerently, not waiting to be addressed as was the rule when meeting with a royal. Vivian closed the door softly and stood slightly behind Kenna. “Run along and fetch him, woman,” he proceeded to direct.

  “You are here to confront your monarch, next-cousin,” Kenna corrected calmly. She stood perfectly still, her hands folded in front of her as she looked directly into Gregory’s eyes and smiled, though the chill in her facial expression was intentional. “I am here to give you that opportunity.”

  A flush rushed up Gregory’s face but his voice was icily controlled. “What? How dare you imply some claim to a throne much less any relation to me? I will not be insulted in this fashion.” Gregory strode around the women and yanked on the door handle. It did not open.

  “What a stupid little…” the pause was insulting, “female you are,” Gregory sneered as he slowly turned. “Locking yourself in with unknown men? Anything could happen.”

  “The blood price of a throne is very high, next-cousin,” Kenna stated without turning to look at him. “Your ancestors attempted the purchase and failed. I believe these men will be interested in the contents of the walled room.”

  She smiled serenely as her eyes traveled over each man facing her. They were all in uniform, security officers of Kersonov. “Archibald Leionoff’s ancestral fortress is gone, but the foundation remains under a lovely lawn, or more correctly, the dungeons are still there. In the northeast section, exactly thirty feet from the original stairway, there is a room that was sealed shut shortly before the Kersonovian king returned from the Third Crusade.”

  “What nonsense are you babbling? Why would anyone listen to you?” Gregory demanded as he was forced to retrace his steps to face her.

  Kenna tilted her head just slightly as he stood far too close in an attempt to intimidate her.

  “I’m doing you the courtesy of telling you privately. The body in that room will be a family match to my DNA, but not yours, next-cousin.” Her tone on the medieval word “next-cousin” was decidedly insulting. “The Kersonov state ring will be found in the woman’s stomach or close by, depending if they fed her before sealing her in alive. History is clear that the ring was never seen after the queen mother disappeared mysteriously.”

  “Utter nonsense!” Gregory spat. “Even if you are proved the relation of some stupid woman who was punished for stealing in the twelfth century, how does that make you a royal? Let me out of this room immediately. I refuse to listen to your garbage a moment longer.”

  “No,” Kenna said quietly. “You will remain and listen. You are a descendant of Archibald Leionoff’s second wife. She married the king’s brother but her sons were not Leionoff blood, nor are you. Even if I am not who these officers are beginning to suspect I am, you are still not heir to their throne, but the question you ask is a good one. How do I know the exact location to dig?”

  “These childish stories mean nothing,” Gregory snarled. “Do I have to search your person for the key to that door? I promise it will not be pleasant. Hand it over and be done with this foolishness.”

  “The excavation starts in two weeks,” Kenna continued. “National Geographic will be given the documentary rights, but the story will be picked up by any news organization that wants it. It’s not every day a perfectly preserved, medieval queen is discovered with all the evidence of her murder still intact. Who knows, she might have found a way to write on the walls of her grave before she expired. Opening that room will be a thrilling and most likely a live event the world watches.” Kenna raised a brow. “But that brings us back to why I knew where to direct the archaeological team to dig.”

  “You filthy little pretender,” Gregory snarled, leaning down closer to her face. “You will be shown a fraud.”

  “Truly? Do you really wish to go down that road?” Kenna smiled and there was no warmth in the baring of her teeth. “I was hoping you’d feel that way. You see, the journal written by my ancestor pinpoints the location of her mother’s murder and will be authenticated by uncovering the room exactly where she says it is. Taken with the tests that will date pages and ink to be exactly as old as I say they are, there will be no refuting the facts documented in Queen Annedrine’s journal. The one she wrote after escaping the Mongolians and fleeing to Scotland.”

  Realization washed over Gregory. Kenna could prove she was the Leionoff heir. She was going to expose history his family had successfully kept hidden for seven hundred years. This stupid woman was destroying everything!

  The men he had brought with him were crowded around them, but that didn’t concern Gregory, they were his men. It was a natural response he had almost no control of, his hand rose to give her the slap she so richly deserved.

  A beefy fist closed around Gregory’s wrist and he squealed in shock, his head jerking to view the fool who had stopped him. Cold eyes regarded him as his guard commander held his raised arm from behind.

  “I think not,” the man snarled. “You may wish to be hanged for treason. I do not.”

  The commander released Gregory’s arm abruptly and faced Kenna. “Your highness, I beg forgiveness for disturbing your morning and request your indulgence as we were not aware of the facts. Please allow me to welcome you home and humbly offer my service in whatever capacity you should desire.”

  He dropped to one knee in exactly the pose Kenna had seen Thomas take at the joust. Every other male in the room followed their commander’s lead except for Gregory.

  Bitter contempt turned down the corners of Gregory’s mouth as he glanced around at the kneeling men. “No!” he roared as his arm shot out for Kenna’s neck.

  Neither Kenna nor Vivian moved, not even flinching, but they were the only ones. Kneeling didn’t mean the men around Gregory were helpless or unaware. Kenna could feel them though none were Keepers. Her natural abilities allowed her to read anyone and these were men of Kersonov, officers sworn to protect the royal family. None of them were honestly sad to realize the Kersonov royal family did not include Gregory.

  Gregory was held by at least five of his men, he’d been taken to the carpet in a flurry of movement.

  “I need an official record of this meeting,” Kenna said to the commander who now stood. “As well as the appropriate charges brought against Mr…” she paused, glancing down at Gregory. He was struggling and had been screaming obscenities at her until one of the men jammed a wadded handkerchief in his mouth and held it there. “We can’t really call him Leionoff as that was never his family’s name. It is Herrick, but no matter, I will leave it in your hands as an officer of the Kersonov court.”

  “Of course, my lady.” The commander bowed as Kenna turned and Vivian held the door for her.

  Kenna stopped in the open door, looking back at the knot of men holding Gregory. “There will be official announcements when independent experts verify the documents I present to the Kersonov people. However, currently I am simply a daughter of Kersonov, not its queen, so there is no need for titles, but thank you for the courtesy.” She smiled at the men and swept out.

  Behind her, Gregory’s muffled yelling abruptly stopped. She didn’t turn to see how his men handled the treasonous insults. In truth, they were now her men and she wanted them to feel her confidence in their judgment. She also wanted away from Gregory. Increased abilities meant a deeper understanding of his ugly intentions.

  Thomas was standing at the door, waiting for her, and bowed deeply as he fell into step at her side. The gesture done in full view of the men in that small room was meant as a message. Despite her modern view of her royal blood, the very powerful Tosh family considered her monarch.

  “Great, thanks, buddy,” Kenna snarled at him. “Too bad you couldn’t stage some peasants for me to kick. Then for sure they’d tell everyone the queen is back in town.”

  “News will be in every cottage by nightfall.” He grinned down at Kenna. “You were just crowned, in case you weren’t sure.”

  The short walk
to the kitchen was natural. A fire crackled in the huge hearth. Landor moved pots around his temporary camp stove but kept a kettle on the hook over the fire.

  Lore rose, breaking off his conversation with Yuri for a moment as he kissed Kenna and resumed his seat with her on his lap. Julie set a steaming cup of tea in front of them. Boris strolled in to pull out a chair across the table.

  Lore glanced at the door and back at Boris. “Where is Synth?”

  “He needed to go. The Asp is hunting women who don’t know they have Keeper blood. It appears the Asp thinks he can capture the secrets of eternal life from Keeper females. As far as we can tell, his understanding of where Keeper power comes from is a twisted form of the truth. It appears he is now under the impression that every Keeper female can transfer her power to her lover. This is true if they are mated, but a Keeper mating cannot be forced.”

  Vivian sat down next to Yuri. “That one is where he is supposed to be. He will be well.”

  Kenna raised a brow. “Approval of Synth? This is a new thing for you, Vivian.”

  Vivian carefully plucked a bit of lint off Yuri’s shoulder as she answered. “Perhaps I have been a little hard on those boys.” She shrugged. “It was difficult with no One. Now each is where they were meant to be.”

  “Vivian, what has changed?” Kenna wanted to know, asking in a serious tone.

  Vivian hesitated as her eyes deliberately traveled around the room. Returning her gaze to Kenna, she answered directly. “The Keepers have changed. You have finally become who you were always meant to be. I believe you will call it evolution, but perhaps it is more than that. What you are now is what you never were before and yet what history has been waiting for. You are the people, and the One.”

  Lore felt another piece of the puzzle slip into place. “The Keepers were not evolved enough before? They were not fully developed?”

  “Yes.” Vivian smiled. “Now is the time you are ready to take your place, to be who you are.”

  “What does that mean?” Kenna questioned again. “Why is our evolutionary path so different?”

  “I don’t have that answer,” Vivian stated. “My purpose was never to instruct. What I do know is the other Keepers are supposed to come when the time is right. However, they are already here. What was misplaced has been replaced and all are where they should be.”

  “Now what?” Lore asked her. “It sounds like a stage has been set by ancient hands.”

  “I am not given those secrets,” Vivian stated.

  “No, of course not.” Lore grimaced. “Why would anyone do that and make this simple?”

  There were several male noises agreeing with him around the room.

  “Whatever the game, it’s ours now,” Lore continued. “I have no intention of being hobbled by waiting for instruction or rules.”

  General assent floated on the air, in the connections between these souls. There was calm in that understanding. The family they had become was whole. They could feel the increase in ability and were now able to assimilate talents without the crippling effects of shock.

  Julie stood by the bay window looking at the garden as she asked, “Where is Synth’s brother?”

  “He waits for his time,” Vivian commented absently as she watched Yuri leave his chair and cross the room. Her attention returned to Lore and Kenna. “You are right about one thing. Your blood is the price of peace. It will ever rest with your abilities, your power.”

  “Are you predicting peace?” Lore asked.

  “No, I have no view into the future. The future will know its past as it should.”

  Lore smiled and stroked a hand down Kenna’s back. “Vivian, you and Julie enjoy riddles way too much. Personally, I’m grateful for a rest. It will probably be short, but for right now our opponents are on the run or ignorant of our presence in the world.”

  Lore’s gaze flicked around the room. They appeared a casual gathering but each heart present had paid a price. The future would be written in their blood and they would command it with that power.

  “We will take our right to live, to freedom from anyone who attempts to deny us. By the time humans realize they are truly not alone, it will be too late. Far too late.”

  About the Author

  Hello everyone. If you’re reading this, I hope it means you’ve enjoyed reading one of my books. If you have some other opinion of them, feel free to lie to me anyway. I hereby absolve you from all possible guilt and consequences for flagrant, adjective-saturated lying to the author.

  I’m a chronic fantasizer. Every good romance novel ended too soon. After a while, I started making up stories when I had a few minutes to while away. So now, instead of sitting around with a blank look on my face, I’ve taken to writing them down.

  Because of my father’s job, we moved every three years in my early life. My first memories are of Bermuda, and then we were in several African countries. It was a wonderful childhood. I gained a rich cultural background in the world community, but never learned to spell. As an adult, I avoided writing at all costs, embarrassed over my limitations.

  But the writer will not stay silent forever. She broke out, and insisted on learning the mystical world of grammar and spelling. Haven’t mastered all of it yet, but they let me write for you anyway. Bless every editor on the planet. They give dreamers a place to send fantasies and save us the embarrassment of owning our shortcomings.

  Gail welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].

  Also by Gail Faulkner

  Ask For It

  Darius

  Ghost Unit 1: Full Ride

  Ghost Unit 2: Slip Knot

  Ghost Unit 3: Wanna Play

  Into His Keeping

  Jamie’s Cherub

  Romeo

  Stealing Carmen

  Wicked Beast

  Print books by Gail Faulker

  Ghost Unit: Knot Tonight anthology

  Ghost Unit: Slip Knot

  Hurts So Good anthology

  Into His Keeping

  Jamie’s Cherub

  Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.

  www.ellorascave.com