Chapter Six
Percy
Dawn was arriving, illuminating the forest. The SUV sat idling, the engine noise barely a ripple of disturbance in the mist and dampened quiet. Gold light seeped through the pines, and Percy huddled in the back on the vehicle, watching over the back of the seats as the guard barracks was revealed by the fleeing mist. Two vehicles, similar to the one he sat in, were parked outside the building, and there was no sign of movement. It was a small building, and never manned all the time from Reynard’s description. It was used as a place for patrols to stop on the way to somewhere else.
The main road out of the small town went directly by the barracks, and traffic was light, but steadily increasing. Their vehicle wouldn’t be the only one on the road, and Percy relaxed, waiting for Reynard to put it in gear and get them out of there.
Edward sat in the passenger seat in the front, a gun in his lap. While Edward assured him he knew how to shoot, Percy could see the stress that Edward was under just holding the weapon. He was very aware of it, as if afraid it might come alive at any moment and do something horrible.
Reynard was flipping through radio channels, static alternating between garish beats and wailing that made Percy’s ears itch in complaint. He wasn’t particularly interested in anything, merely using it as a means to pass the time. He stopped it when he got to something Edward told Percy was a news channel.
“…the video uploaded to the internet three days ago has been confirmed by independent specialists as Prince Mason. The blood prince is shown to be extensively injured, perhaps even tortured as he ascertains in the video. The short clip, only thirty seconds long, shows the second born blood prince sitting in a dark room, covered in bandages, and claiming to have been tortured by King Henry…”
Percy froze. The radio went to commercial break. Reynard’s hand, hovering over the dial, shook with a hard tremor. Edward went still, body tense, staring at the radio as an ad for beer played.
Reynard moved. In a flash he was out of the SUV, the door open, and running down the road. The sun was rising, chasing the mist, and he would alternately disappear then reappear as he ran. Edward cursed, and made to follow, but he recalled himself and sat still, though the gun was in his hand and the safety clicked off ominously. He slid out of his seat and into the driver’s, closing the door.
Percy crawled over the seat, and up to the front of the vehicle. He took Edward’s old seat, and tried to see the captain.
Reynard was at the barracks, slinking low as he ran far swifter than anyone should be able to at a half-crouch. Reynard blended in the rapidly shifting shadows, dawn’s light touching the top of the building, and creeping lower. The windows of the barracks were dark, no movement inside, and Percy held his breath, afraid to take his eyes off Reynard for even a second.
The captain, kneeling now at the rear latch of one of the vehicles, did something, and the door opened. Reynard disappeared into the big vehicle, and Percy was at ten seconds when Reynard slithered back out, closing the door with extreme care. He had a medium sized black bag over his shoulder, and he ran through the remaining mist to the other side of the road. Percy was just about to ask why he wasn’t running back to their vehicle when the front door of the barracks opened, and a man stepped out.
Edward put the SUV in gear, and they began driving. The guard had his hands up at his face, and Percy sighed in relief when he saw a white plume of smoke come out from behind his hands. The guard continued smoking as Edward drove by, staying at the speed limit. The guard didn’t even spare them more than a casual glance as they passed.
Percy tried to see Reynard in the trees as they went by the place he disappeared into, but he could see nothing past the mist and shadows. Edward drove on, and Percy turned in his seat, worried.
“Edward? What about Reynard?”
“Please, little one,” Edward said, tense and abrupt. Percy sat back, clicking on his seat belt.
Edward was mad. Very mad.
They drove for a few minutes, going slow, until they rounded a curve in the road. A shadow stepped out in front of them, and Percy squeaked in alarm. Edward stopped the SUV, and Reynard walked around the front to the rear passenger door. Edward let him in, and Percy turned in his seat, gaping at the captain.
He must have ran through the woods to meet them, and he wasn’t even breathing hard. He put the bag on the seat next to him, and Edward began driving again. Reynard pulled out a laptop and a small square device. He turned them on, tiny beeps and the even hum of electronics was the only sound for a few minutes.
“Wait a moment, my prince,” Reynard said when Edward paused at an intersection, the signs for the royal highway pointing the way. “I’m almost….I got it.”
“What?” Percy asked, peering around the seatback. Reynard flipped the laptop around, the screen showing a video paused. Edward checked the road behind them, put the SUV in park, and turned as well. His face and jaw were tight, his dark eyes furious, but Edward held his tongue.
Reynard hit play. Percy gasped, hand over his mouth.
“I won’t bother introducing myself. On the night of fireworks celebration, my little brother was almost killed by a stable master in the employ of Heritage Breeders. Those men were under the protection of my father, the king, who were attempting to steal Edward’s beloved consort Percy and return him to Heritage. There was no random assassination attempt. Percy is pregnant with Edward’s child, and my brother loves him. Percy is in danger. Edward is in danger. Not from unseen foes, but from family. Our family.”
Mason leaned forward, face inches from the camera. Dark eyes so like Edward’s were full of anger, and what Percy could only guess was betrayal. “King Henry is insane. He spent the last week torturing me because I helped my little brother escape. Don’t stop running, Edward. There is madness in the line of Airric, and it festers in our father.”
The video cut out. Percy stared, overcome by disbelief.
“It’s all over the internet, my prince,” Reynard whispered, gripping the screen. “Once one video is pulled down, it goes back up again. It’s been shared over ten thousand times already, and growing.”
“Saint’s blood, what is he doing?” Edward breathed, slumping in his seat, dark eyes shocked.
“I think we need to ask him,” Reynard said.
“How do we do that?” Percy whispered, at a loss.
Reynard pulled the laptop back around, and went tapping away on the keyboard. He paused, then turned the screen back around. He pointed, at what looked to be reports of some kind. Percy tried understanding it, but the acronyms and times were confusing, and he shook his head at Reynard, lost.
“Fuck,” Edward growled through clenched teeth, and he punched the steering wheel.
“The guards have been attempting to track Mason. They aren’t looking for us right now at all. Apparently the king is trying patch up the damage Mason is causing. They can track the videos to the places they’ve been uploaded from, but not until hours after it’s been uploaded and Mason has moved on. Mason has two more videos, all time stamped a day apart. The one I played was the first one.”
“Hold on, you said they were tracking Mason. He’s around here?” Edward asked suddenly.
“Last video was uploaded less than a hundred miles from here, around noon yesterday. The guards are attempting to find him. The whole area is flooded with guard squadrons.”
“Dammit! What is he doing?”
“Trying to save us all, I think,” Reynard said, leaning back in the seat. “There are secrets he has carried for years, and I think he’s finally in a place where he can let the lies go.”
“While bringing down the weight of my father’s wrath at the same time! We were in the clear! Those reports said they have no idea where the three of us are, but now Mason is dragging them after us!”
“No. They narrowed down the search area to a hundred miles. The guards are at the barracks here only because there is a station for them to stop for the night. They are heading out soon, back to the search grid. Mason won’t be anywhere near where he was when he uploaded it.”
“I’m getting us off the road,” Edward said, throwing the SUV into gear and driving. Trees went by in a blur for several minutes, and then he made a hard turn. Edward took them off the paved road, down a narrow dirt road surrounded by a wall of trees on all sides, until they were out of sight of the main road.
Edward threw the SUV into park and killed the engine. Dust billowed up around the SUV, covering the windshield, and Edward got out of the vehicle. Edward shouted, a wordless scream of anger and frustration. He kicked the side of the vehicle, and then fell to his shoulder on it, clutching at his leg. Percy climbed out of the SUV, and went to Edward.
“Your leg?” Percy asked, small hands going to the recovering wound. Edward moved his away, shifting so his back was to the vehicle, and Percy checked for bleeding. Edward rubbed his face, hard, breathing ragged as he tried to calm himself.
Reynard stayed in the SUV. Percy was thankful. Edward needed space. His lover was teetering on the edge again. Reynard’s precipitous actions in acquiring the hardware at the barracks, and now Mason’s unexplained move against the crown was almost too much for Edward. His master was so used to having everything go smoothly, as he decreed, and always, always being in charge.
Edward wasn’t bleeding. Though he probably hurt himself kicking the car like that. Percy leaned on the vehicle at his side, not touching. Just waiting. Letting calm down, regain his control.
Minutes passed. The woods around them came alive, a few brave birds singing. It was very late winter, nearly spring. The pines were a deep green, the bare maples and birch trees thin and wisplike in the breeze.
Percy sighed, finding the wind was calm, almost warm, and he put his hands on his belly, enjoying the peace. He listened to the woods, and he smiled when he felt a flutter under his palms. Percy reached out, and took Edward’s hand. He put it on his stomach, and he could feel when Edward sensed the same thing he did.
Their babe moved, waking up. Tiny pulses of movement, little twitches, but strong. Edward sucked in a deep breath, his whole body stilling. He pushed, so gentle, and Percy smiled with a laugh as their baby moved again, stronger—as if saying hello. Edward jumped, a surprised laugh coming from his lips as well. Percy found himself in a tight embrace, Edward rocking them both on their feet, his face peppered with kisses from his mate.
“I love you,” Edward gasped out between kisses, making Percy giggle again.
“I love you too, Edward.”
Percy cuddled into Edward, pressing his face to Edward’s neck, breathing him in, Edward’s face to his hair. They stood like that, their child moving in small leaps between them.
“Damn them all,” Edward said, exasperated more than angry. His lover’s anger was washing away, and Percy kissed his neck, happy to see him leaving it behind.
Edward tipped his head back, finger on his chin. Percy smiled, and Edward kissed him, a sweet press of lips. Percy leaned into him, wanting more, but the world was waiting.
Edward pulled back, and led him to the open door of the SUV. Percy clambered in, sitting in the front seat, while Edward got back in and closed the door. Percy gave Reynard a smile, curling up on the cushion, waiting for Edward to decide what they were going to do.
Reynard watched Edward. The captain gave nothing away, expression closed off, but Percy could see a glimmer of something in his dark blue eyes. Worry, perhaps. This was the biggest emotional outburst from Edward that either of them had seen, and Reynard must be at something of a loss.
Edward looked at Reynard in the rearview mirror. “Where is my brother?”
“I can make a very good guess, my prince,” Reynard offered without hesitation.
“Tell me,” Edward said, simple, to the point.
“Lord Estiary’s estate.”
***
Reynard
There was very little doubt that Prince Edward thought him insane. The glare the prince gave him was vicious, but Abe held his ground. There was no doubt in his mind that Mason was nearby. He was uploading videos to the internet, each one a damning disclaimer of the Cassian Dynasty, and the general trail Mason was leaving behind for the guards to follow was within driving distance.
“Lord Estiary owns the internet relays, the cell tower, the electrical hub and the towers used for satellite communications in this part of the country. Everything sent and received electronically in a hundred mile radius goes through Estiary’s estate, my prince. Because of all of the equipment, Estiary has military level firewalls and hardware with software it would take the Crown a year just to break. The man may be a deviant,” Abe said, meaning Estiary’s fondness for owning pleasure slaves, “But he is a rich son of a bitch who’d delight in keeping King Henry at arm’s length. If Mason is going to be anywhere, he’ll be there.”
“You know my brother that well?” Edward asked, dark eyes intent.
“I do,” Reynard replied, holding his prince’s gaze, trying to impart just how sure he was.
“Do you believe Estiary is helping him?”
“I say it’s a good chance. Lucius hates the king. Mason is obviously trying to burn down the royal house. Get me close enough, I can reconnoiter, see if Mason is there, that way we don’t risk Estiary seeing Percy before we know whose side he’s on.”
“Would he….is he dangerous?” Percy asked, pretty blue eyes wide, curled up like a kitten on the seat. Abe resisted the urge to pull him in for a hug, Edward watching him.
Abe looked at Edward, waiting for him to tell Percy no, that Estiary wouldn’t want him the second he laid eyes on the perfection that was Perseus, royal consort. Yet Edward made it a point to never lie to Percy, and this time was no exception. His thoughts mirrored the prince’s.
“He covets perfection, my love. You would be the sublime representation of it in Estiary’s eyes.”
“Is that bad?” Percy whispered, hugging his knees as best he could around the baby bump that was getting more prevalent with each passing day.
“Your looks are not your fault, nor are the reactions others have or will have to them, Perseus,” Abe said firmly, refusing to let Percy feel he was to blame for anything. “A man’s actions are always his own, even when faced with no options.”
Percy nodded, biting his lip, and he curled up even tighter.
“Up to you, my prince,” Abe told Edward. “We can continue on to the border. It’s still over a thousand miles away. Percy will be safe there, but we still need to actually get to Elysian. Or we can find Mason, and you can ask him what secrets he’s been carrying that would warrant your father destroying his whole life.”
Edward faced front, eyes to the woods. Abe watched his profile, the prince thinking hard. Abe waited, though his heart was screaming at him to pressure Edward into choosing finding Mason. Mason was a formidable fighter, and while Percy would be safer over the border in Elysian, getting there would be problematic. Every day they risked being recognized, and the royal guards would hear of it, especially once it hit the internet. And it would, too. A royal sighting was an almost instant viral hit. Even out here in the wilds of the greenwoods people had cellphones.
It was a miracle from the Saints that they hadn’t been recognized yet.
“Percy?” Edward turned to his mate, tone questing for input. Percy gulped, but he looked Edward in the eye and chose.
“I want to help Mason. We owe him everything.”
Edward nodded. He looked back at Abe, dark eyes bright.
“Tell me where I’m driving.”
***
Reynard
He stood in the shade of a wind-worn pine, eyes trained on the relay station sitting on a knoll about two hundred meters inside Lord Estiary’s estate. It was noon, the winter sun pale, but warmer than it was even a week ago. Spring was coming, still a far off prospect, but coming none the less.
The relay station was huge, three towers rising a hundred feet in the air behind a twenty foot chain link fence capped by razor-wire. Concrete bunkers rested at the feet of the towers, holding the fiber optics, the electrical, satellite and numerous other vital communications systems hardware and wiring for the entire region. Only a fool would think that Lord Estiary wasn’t aware of every single word that was spoken or typed, since every mode of communication came through his property. Abe had a feeling that it was that level of control and access to information that Estiary possessed which both earned him the king’s wrath and protected him from it. Estiary was too dangerous to keep in the capital, and too dangerous to dispose of—so he was banished. Having only met the man in passing in his youth, Abe had no personal opinion of Lord Estiary, other than one of caution.
Abe watched. It was an unmanned station. There should be no activity unless it was scheduled maintenance, and there was a single one lane dirt road weaving through the trees that accessed the station.
So there shouldn’t be a black motorcycle resting on its kickstand just inside the fence, the section cleanly cut and peeled back. The bike was unfamiliar, but the style of its design, and the black helmet hanging from the handles, spoke of a certain personality. Abe felt a spark of hope in his chest.
Away from king and capital, would Mason be willing to let his forced vows fall to the side? They were both out of reach of king and false duty, so maybe there was a chance….that they could be more than stolen moments and clandestine meetings.
Abe knew it was that wish that let the man sneak up on him—his attention taken in by youthful dreams of love and romance. He felt like a fool when the cold snap of a safety being clicked off sounded behind him.
Abe froze, mentally cursing his inattention, and he slowly lifted his hands, palms empty. He turned, making no sudden movements, and met the eyes of the gunman.
“For Saint’s sake, Abe, even Percy would’ve gotten the drop on you,” Mason snarked, one brow raised as he lowered the weapon and holstered it. “Miss me?”
“You bastard,” Abe breathed out, and he took a single step forward.
Mason met him halfway. Arms crushing each other tight, Abe tipped Mason’s chin back and took his mouth.
Relief, joy, love, anger. It was all there between them, but Abe let it go the second Mason opened his mouth and invited Abe inside.
Just the taste of him was enough to strip away the years, the pain, the frustration and anger. Mason was real, he was here. They existed in this tiny pocket of time, untouched by reality.
Mason moaned into his mouth, and Abe tasted him deeper, hands rising to cup his face and tip his head, deepening the kiss. Mason wrapped his arms around his waist and leaned into him, pressing their hips together, legs settling in a tangled weave of limbs. Mason was real, warm, skin smooth and stubbled cheeks felt divine under his palms. Mason was heat and hard muscle and a sexy sweet layer under the brash exterior, and every time Abe kissed him, the armor fell away, revealing the wounded and kind soul underneath. It was as if Mason was incapable of hiding who he really was when they kissed, when they touched, but Abe didn’t care why, he only enjoyed and treasured the change.
The real Mason was someone who rarely saw freedom.
Mason kissed as if he would never get the chance again. Desperate, needy, full of gasped whimpers and pleas for more. Abe gave him everything, hand sliding into his hair, pulling his head back and taking his mouth again. Their kisses were unending, neither stopping, taking small sips of air as they had their first real taste of unfettered passion in decades.
Abe lost track of time. Mason always did that to him. Whether he was twenty-five or forty, Mason absorbed his whole focus the second they touched.
“Oh!”
The startled gasp behind them quickly gave way to giggles. Mason pulled back, giving Abe a look full of heat and promises, and Abe rubbed his thumb over his lower lip, wet from their kisses, before letting Mason go.
Percy stood a few feet away, sweet face full of smiles, blue eyes alive with joy. He giggled again when Mason rolled his eyes at him, and the tiny breeder sprinted forward, rushing the blood prince. Mason caught him, a pleased and surprised look on his face, and he hugged Percy in return.
“Mason! Mason! You’re okay! Oh! But you’re not! I’m sorry, are you hurt? You are hurt! Edward! Mason’s hurt!” Percy’s chatter was fast and ebullient, and the usually shy Percy was overcome with joy and flash pan concern.
“I’ll live, little mouse,” Mason replied, gently easing him back. Now that Abe wasn’t kissing his brains out, he could see the cuts and bruises, the way Mason moved stiffly. His face bore marks from fists and boots, though faded by a few days. From the way he moved, Abe didn’t doubt that his prince was covered in half-healed wounds.
Mason cupped Percy’s face, his eyes so bright, luscious pink lips curved in a shy smile, a blush on his cheeks. Mason put a hand on his stomach, where the baby bump was poorly hidden by his shirt and jacket.
“Are you well?” Mason asked, and Abe could tell that Mason meant both Percy and babe in that question.
“We are,” Edward answered instead, coming out from the trees, gently tugging Percy out of his brother’s arms. “I’ve told you time and again, Mason—stop touching my mate!”
“He’s so adorable Eddie, I can’t resist,” Mason quipped, but whatever he was about to say next was broken off by Edward throwing himself forward.
The brothers held each other. Abe so rarely saw them interact that each time was a surprise. Edward clung to his older brother, and in that clutch of arms Abe could see just how hard Edward was holding on. Always so in control, the capable and dependable prince was reduced to a young man who wanted, who needed, to lean on his big brother.
Mason held Edward as if he would change his mind and pull away, squeezing the younger prince to him. Edward chuckled, and pressed his face to Mason’s shoulder. Abe very politely pretended not to see or hear the few tears that snuck out from princely men, and he went to where little Percy was hovering. Percy was crying, unashamed. The little breeder was one of the most emotionally honest people Abe had ever met, and he recalled Edward’s words to him the other day. Anyone who was bothered by Percy’s tears would quickly find themselves crying for another reason, and it was bound to be a painful one. No one messed with Abe’s friends…his family.
Abe gathered Percy in his arms, and Percy gave him a startled glance, but snuggled in for a hug. Abe let him sniffle and wipe at his tears in peace, no judging. Percy was small, but lean, finely muscled, and he was a joy to hold. Abe held Percy in the shadow of his taller frame, sharing his warmth as the brothers reunited.
Mason was whispering in Edward’s ear, but he was too far away to hear what the elder brother was saying. Edward gave a short, jerky nod, arms hugging Mason all the tighter before falling away. Mason wiped his brother’s cheeks with his thumbs, and Edward kept his back to Abe and Percy, as if embarrassed.
“The palace is going bare for heirs, with both of us out here now,” Edward said, words full of tears, and he coughed, clearing his voice. “Is Malcolm wandering in the wilds too, or is he still following Father?”
“Father has only one heir, and Malcolm knows better than most exactly who that is,” Mason replied, dark eyes on Edward’s face. “He’ll fight for what best interests him, as always.”
Abe tightened up all over. Surely Mason didn’t mean… “Is it time, Mace?” Abe asked quietly, Edward looking back and forth between them.
“Time for what?” Edward demanded.
“Time to tell the truth, and free us all,” Mason said. “But not outside, in a damn squirrel’s parlor. There’s a far warmer and more enjoyable place we can share our fireside tales, and I need to put my feet up. I’ve been tortured you know, and hunted like a dog for days.”
Percy gasped in sympathy, and Mason sent the small man a wink and a smile before heading back towards the station. “Where are you going?” Edward asked, motioning back over his shoulder. “We need to get out of here, Mace.”
“You can head for the border, brother, and I’ll wish you luck. But fifteen-hundred miles of cities and forests and towns full of avid royal watchers is between you and freedom. Be realistic. Getting there might happen, but the traveling isn’t wise, not so encumbered.” Mason tipped his head at Percy’s belly, and Edward narrowed his eyes.
Before Edward could lay into Mason, Abe stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Mason and I can protect Percy better than an entire army of Elysian soldiers,” Abe vowed, and Edward sent him a searching glace, jaw tight. Mason continued walking, leaving him to convince his brother. “He knew we would be here. Perhaps not exactly, but he came this direction because getting to Elysian may be the best chance for Percy, but it isn’t the most likely of plans to succeed. We’ll all be safe if King Henry is stopped, and running away won’t be necessary.”
“And he wants us to go where, exactly?” Edward asked, frustrated.
Mason roared back in their direction, stopping the bike a few feet away. “Lord Estiary has been the most gracious host,” Mason said over the rumble of the bike’s engine, “And I warned him his involvement might mean a death sentence instead of banishment, but the crazy old badger just laughed and reached for another glass of wine. I’ll see you at his estate. Want a ride, little mouse?”
Percy squeaked in alarm, eyes wide as he stared at the bike. Mason laughed when Edward grabbed Percy’s arm and stood in front of him. Abe waved Mason off, not wanting the brothers to start digging at each other so soon. “I’ll get them there, Mace. Go, I’ll see you soon.”
Mason revved the engine, the bike taking off in a flurry of sprayed dirt and leaves. Abe watched as the love of his life disappeared into the forest, the roar fading as Mason got further and further away. One day soon they would be able to just…stop, and be, and exist only in each other.
If they lived, that is.
Lunatic kings and misplaced heirs needed to be settled first, though, before love could find time to flourish.
“And if Estiary makes a move for Percy?” Edward hissed, dark eyes full of violent promise at the possibility.
“Then we can be on the run for killing a noble, too,” Abe assured the prince, walking back towards where they hid the SUV in the woods.