Free Blood Price by Kit Tunstall Page B

She jerked away from his hold and dropped back a step. “The men in suits are watching us. Look.”
    He started to turn and she pressed her hand against his lower back. “Don’t make it obvious,” she hissed in a low tone. She didn’t miss him rolling his eyes as he turned his head to glance at the lobby. She held her breath, expecting vindication and perhaps even the order to run.
    His harsh laugh surprised her. “What men, Nikia?”
    She ignored her own advice about being discreet and whirled around to survey the lobby. Her eyes widened when she saw the men had gone. She swept her gaze around the room a second time but came up with the same tally of guests and it didn’t include any of the men in suits. Her shoulders drooped and she turned back to Atar. “Forget it. I must have imagined things.” She followed him up the stairs without speaking, knowing her mind’s eye hadn’t conjured up a game of intrigue to distract her. Those men had been there, waiting for her but she couldn’t prove it.
    A disheartening possibility occurred to her. What if Atar wasn’t working alone? Maybe the men were his backup, positioned there in case she escaped. Or maybe Anca had tired of waiting for Atar and decided to send more men to assist or supplant Atar. Whatever their purpose, she knew the watchers weren’t innocent bystanders. She would have to be alert for herself and Atar. Most importantly, she would have to take into account their presence when she made her escape. She would only have one chance and she couldn’t let them stop her.

* * * * *
    Her wrist ached almost as much as the constant throbbing in her head that increased by the hour. Nikia rubbed the cuffed appendage with her free hand but the massage provided little relief. “This is ridiculous. Where would I go, locked in the suite?”
    Atar looked away from the football game playing via satellite on the big-screen TV. His expression held no trace of pity or remorse. “I’m not taking any chances.”
    Frustrated, Nikia tugged on the cuffs binding her to the headboard of the bed. Atar had propped pillows to allow her to sit up but the position was uncomfortable. When the metal headboard refused to budge, she shot daggers from her eyes at him. “Do the words cruel and unusual mean anything to you?”
    He chuckled before sipping the beer ordered from room service. “You aren’t an American, Princess . The Protector told me to do whatever I had to, just as long as I returned you to Corsova.” He returned his attention to the game, making it obvious the conversation was over.
    With a sigh, she tried changing her tone. “Very well but may I take a bath? You could lock me in the bathroom.” She hoped the hot water would soothe the migraine forming, since she was too keyed up to rest properly.
    He sighed loudly, expressing annoyance with the abrupt way he clicked off the TV. “Of course, Your Highness. I live to serve you.”
    She was accustomed to hearing the phrase but not in such a sardonic way, accompanied by the lip curl and disgusted expression. She held off the retort that wanted to fly from her tongue, certain he was spoiling for a fight, despite his surface lack of interest in anything she did. All she wanted was some peace and quiet, along with a tubful of bubbles, so she could be alone with her thoughts.
    He rose from the sofa and walked to the bathroom, leaving her cuffed to the bed. Nikia waited, trying to ignore her arm’s fatigue. When he finally emerged, she shifted her position. “Well?”
    “I can’t secure the door to the other bathroom properly, so a bath is out.”
    She glared at him. “I’m tired, dirty and annoyed. A bath isn’t much to ask.” She pointed at his still-damp hair. “You’ve had a shower, haven’t you?”
    He shrugged. “Fine, but we do it my way.” His coiled gait betrayed the tension in his muscles, making a mockery of his indifferent expression. He unlocked the cuff binding her to the bed but left the other