The Prince and I - 28

As we turned off the boulevard onto the side street leading to the mansion a dark SUV veered in front of us. Our driver slammed on the brakes and hung a one-eighty so fast Connor was thrown into me and I hit the door hard.

“Down,” the bodyguard in the front seat barked out as a gun appeared in his hand. The other one didn’t bother with words; he just shoved Connor onto the floor of the back seat. I guess he figured I was expendable because he ignored me. I flattened down on the seat as much as possible considering he was taking up a good part of it as he watched out the car’s back window.

Another sharp turn and I was on top of Connor. If I hadn’t been so scared I might have made some wisecrack about it, but trust me it wasn’t in me at that point. He shifted as much as possible so I wasn’t crushing him then I wrapped an arm around him, as much out of fear for his safety as to comfort him.

The ride seemed to go on forever. When you can’t see what’s happening your mind imagines the worst. I had visions of our having an accident, or worse yet being cut off again and there being a gun battle before Connor was kidnapped over the dead bodies of our bodyguards.

“Damn, they’re elves, why aren’t they tossing out magic spells to get rid of the dudes who’re after us,” I muttered at one point.

Connor chuckled though it was a weak one. “That’s so yesterday. We’re actually up with the times, at least here.”

“Yeah well I’d settle for a good death spell for them right about now.”

After what seemed like an eternity the car pulled to a stop. I prayed it was voluntary. It was. Our two bodyguards got out. The one who seemed to hold a hatred for humans actually offered me his hand to help me up. Probably, I figured, so he could be certain Connor was all right.

“We can’t use death spells when there’s civilians who might be endangered,” he commented with a slight smile as he reached in to help Connor get back onto the seat.

The other bodyguard was scanning the area, his gun still held firmly in his hand. Finally he relaxed enough to congratulate our driver on his evasion skills. I took a deep breath before getting back in beside Connor. It wasn’t until then that I realized my arm ached from my shoulder to my elbow. I guess the adrenaline was wearing off. I winced and Connor asked what was wrong.

“I must have hit the door real hard on that first spin. I’m betting I’ve got one hell of a bruise.”

“Let me see.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been hit worse in fights. It’ll be fine, honest.”

“Richie,” he growled.

By then everyone was back in the car. As we took off again Connor made me turn so he could unbutton my shirt. Then he carefully pulled it off far enough to check the damage. Only then did he agree I’d probably live.

“From now on you wear your seatbelt, Richie,” he told me sternly.

“Umm, you too?”

He nodded, pulling my shirt back up, and hugged me carefully as he growled, “If I ever get my hands on those bastards…”

“You and me both.” I put my good arm around his shoulders, pulling him tightly against me and we rode the rest of the way back to the mansion like that.