Harrison’s disdain escalated while he scanned the silhouetted forms of various, dozing guards. This would be easy. Shit, he could have killed all these silly idiots on his own and not bothered with recruiting a team.
Oh well. His six comrades were a decent start on the army he and Reva would require. Motioning for his fellow leviathans to begin eliminating the remaining guards, Harrison approached the two walrus shifters snoozing outside the basement door. He stretched his forearms, allowing his tentacles to take shape, and quickly stabbed through the unconscious guards’ chests. The energy required to manifest his tentacles drained him slightly, making him woozy, but the thrill of utilizing his true form made up for the unpleasant side effects. Curling his tentacles around their hearts, he basked in the final pump of blood through the constricting chambers before they beat no more. He shoved the dead shifters aside and gave his bloodied tentacles a disgusted glance. How unpleasant, being soiled by the lowly creatures.
Wiping himself clean on the guards’ uniforms, he once again adopted the form of human arms. Much as he despised their ugly gangliness, they did provide better dexterity for opening doors and such. At least while he was on land. In truth, being locked into this despised human suit weakened him significantly. His venomous bite and the ability of his species to mutate their tentacles into talons while out of the water were the few things that kept him from being dangerously open to attack. As with all leviathans, his strength resided in his natural form and his preferred domain—the sea. If not for the importance of this mission, he would spend as little time on terra firma as possible.
He grasped the knob and let himself past the door. He made it halfway down the steps before the last two guards at the bottom roused from their slumber. They had little time to do anything more than rub the grogginess from their eyes before Harrison sprang on top of them, crushing their skulls into the adjacent wall as he’d wished to do the other night. He tossed their limp bodies aside and wrenched the metal bar from its housing.
The padded door swung inward with a rusty whine, revealing Reva Bellemuir standing on the other side, impatiently tapping her foot. “Took you long enough.”
Chapter Fourteen
Willa rolled over in bed, automatically reaching for Max. Instead of his nice warm body, she ended up hugging his pillow instead. Frowning, she lifted onto her elbow. The rich aroma of chicory made her nose twitch. Okay, either Max had snuck off to use the bathroom, or he was out in the kitchen, enjoying Aurele’s world-class coffee.
She threw the covers off and hurried to the closet, where she found one of Aurele’s old fuzzy robes. She slipped on the garment and belted it while she padded into the hallway. A peek inside the guest bath confirmed no Max, although the water beading on the shower stall confirmed that he’d been in there recently.
Aurele glanced up from her mug as Willa entered the kitchen. “Morning.”
Crossing to Aurele, she kissed her on the cheek. Aurele sniffled. “Does this mean you forgive me for lying to you about everything?”
“You did it to protect me. It’d be pretty damn petty to hold it against you.” She walked to the cupboard and fetched her favorite coffee cup, the one with the caption I don’t do mornings suspended over a purple alligator. “Have you seen Max? I thought he’d be out here with you.”
“He left a few minutes ago.”
Willa’s eyebrows slashed low at Aurele’s calm pronouncement. “Where did he go?”
“He decided a visit to the Duke of Atlanta would be more productive and persuasive than a phone call.”
“Oh really.” She filled her cup, splashing a small amount of coffee onto the counter. Grumbling, she grabbed a dishtowel and wiped up the mess. “How convenient that he came to that epiphany while I was still sleeping.” Another thought occurred to her and she banged her fist on the Formica. “Damn it, he took my car, didn’t he? Now I’m really ticked.”
“Dear, it wouldn’t have been a good idea for you to go with him.”
“Why? It’s not like the duke would even know who I was.”
“No, but he might become curious. Particularly considering the reason for Max’s visit.”
Begrudgingly admitting that Aurele had a point, Willa sat in the opposite seat and sipped her coffee. Inhaling the fragrant steam, she eyed the other woman. “Max told me that my mother forfeited her crown when she married my father. Did…did she ever regret making that choice?” She’d spent a better part of the night with the ghost of Max’s conversation tormenting her brain, making her wonder about the sacrifices her mother had made. Estelle Jameson had seemed blissfully happy. But then again, maybe what she was remembering was merely an implant. Maybe the truth would remain forever submerged within the murky recesses of her subconscious, never to surface. She swallowed, her doubts more bitter than the coffee scalding her tongue.
Aurele reached across the table and clasped Willa’s hand. “Your mother loved your father, just as she loved you. She never would have traded either of you. Not even for the throne.”
“Max seems to think I should reclaim the legacy she lost. That is, if Reva is ever brought to trial. Since that appears highly unlikely, it’s pretty much a moot point.”
Aurele leaned back in her chair, her gaze assessing. “It is your birthright.”
She grimaced. “Now you sound like Max.”
“Well, he does appear to be a very intelligent young man.”
“Jeez, that was a backhanded compliment if ever I heard one.”
Aurele chuckled. “Scoff all you want, but I confess I’m greatly relieved knowing you have him for a protector. The knowledge will help me sleep easier at night.”
Taking another sip of coffee, she silently agreed with Aurele’s assessment. Having Max look out for her did make her feel infinitely safer. In theory at least. Because when it came to her heart, Max was the biggest danger of all.
Max climbed from Willa’s car and visually swept the exterior of the ducal residence, taking in the enormous dolphin-shaped boxwood topiaries flanking the entrance. To the uninformed observer, the plant statuary would be taken as a whimsical touch. In reality, they were a nod to Justin Bellemuir’s mammalian side of the family, which came courtesy of his mother, Nadia. Max couldn’t help wondering what Reva thought about having the precious waters of her gene pool muddied by dolphin DNA. Hopefully it put a real twist in the bitch’s panties. Clenching his jaw, he jogged up the marble steps and rang the bell. Less than a minute later a butler answered the door and led the way to Justin’s study after Max flashed his credentials.
Justin jumped from his chair as soon as the butler ushered Max inside the mahogany-paneled room. A wide grin plastering the young duke’s mug, he accepted Max’s handshake. “Sheriff Truitt, what an unexpected pleasure.”
“I apologize for showing up at your door without calling first.”
“No need. You know you’re welcome anytime.”
He knew Justin wasn’t only being polite. Unlike many of the other royals, the Duke of Atlanta didn’t stand on formality. And he was genuinely a nice guy. Obviously Reva’s evilness had skipped a few generations, thank the gods.
“Please, have a seat.” Justin indicated the high-backed leather chair facing his desk. “Would you care for coffee or anything?”
“No thanks.” Max settled into the chair. His gaze roved to the bronze sculpture of Poseidon resting on the pedestal behind Justin. It was just one of the many rare and expensive pieces of art on display in the lavish manor. It was also one more reminder to Max of exactly how far down the totem pole he was in comparison to these people. He had no right even imagining Willa in his life. This was the world she belonged in, what she was entitled to. He had nothing to offer her besides himself, and that was pretty damn paltry in comparison to his current surroundings.