Royal Guard Tiger (Shifter Kingdom Book 2) Page 2

  All the men he knew best from years of serving by their sides were exactly the ones he couldn’t bring himself to take off the guard rotations. The younger ones—who were probably better at figuring out all this internet stuff, and might know enough of human ways to be helpful in finding Poppy—were exactly the ones he couldn’t help suspecting.

  Something made him think of Peter, then. He had personally locked up the young guardsman—who was just Poppy Zlotsky’s age, in fact—on the night of his attack against Princess Signy. Tristan had stayed there, guarding the cell, until the Captain of the Guard and the king came down to get Peter’s story, and Tristan had waited just outside and listened to Peter’s tearful confession, his pleas for forgiveness.

  I never meant to put you in danger, sir, Peter had pleaded. I only meant to help. If there’s anything I can do to prove it, I will.

  Peter was still being held in a cell until the king had time to decide just what to do with him in the long run. His Majesty was inclined to be merciful, Tristan knew, and Princess Signy was rather tender-hearted. The trouble, really, might be Peter himself as much as anyone. His tearful remorse before the king suggested that he would take a long time to get the better of his own guilt. Until he did, he would be unfit for any duty that put him too close to the king or Princess Signy or Prince Kai.

  He might just be perfect, on the other hand, for sitting in a cramped office, looking at pictures of a human woman who didn’t even bear much resemblance to her royal sister.

  If Tristan felt a moment’s uneasiness at that thought—if his tiger, deep within, stirred and growled, tail-tip flicking—he pushed it aside. He had a mission; he had to have help to find Poppy Zlotsky as quickly as possible. The pictures of her were not his to guard jealously from anyone else, even if, for some strange reason, he wanted to.

  *~*~*

  Tristan had no trouble signing Peter out of the cells to keep under his own supervision—in fact, since he was technically taking over guarding Peter, he freed up a guardsman from monitoring him.

  “Thanks,” Fionn said, grinning widely as he gave an absent scratch to the back of his neck. “I’m gonna get a swim in before shift change, then. This schedule’s been hell.”

  Tristan nodded to the young selkie, his own expression as flat as ever. Fionn’s grin shrank to an awkward smile before he departed, and it occurred to Tristan that after all these years, he was unlikely to make another friend like Kai in the remaining ranks of the guardsmen.

  But that was neither here nor there. Tristan had a mission to complete.

  It was easy enough to explain to Peter what assistance he needed, and his hunch about Peter’s familiarity with the human internet was confirmed immediately. “Did you check out the accounts of people who she’s tagged, or people whose comments she replies to? If anybody’s seen her recently, they might have put up a picture with her in it, even in the background or something. And even if she’s only active on Insta, they might be on Twitter or Facebook, or...”

  “Ah,” Tristan said. “Yes, well, I thought that would get rather labor-intensive, with so many accounts to check.”

  Peter nodded quickly, darting a glance at his cheek and then meeting Tristan’s eyes again. “Of course. I’ll get right on it, sir.”

  Tristan nodded firmly and turned back to his computer. He pretended not to notice the way Peter kept looking at his new scars and then quickly away from them. He’d forgotten that the king and Princess Signy weren’t the only ones Peter might feel guilty toward, but Tristan wasn’t about to give up his assistant now that he had him.

  It still took days of searching. No obvious friends—or... other attachments—stood out among Poppy’s photographs and online interactions, but they developed a vast pool of acquaintances to check.

  Early one evening, clicking through accounts while Peter frowned at a map, Tristan found himself suddenly face to face with Poppy again. She was wearing a brilliantly blue dress and a brilliant smile, standing with an arm around a woman in green. The photo was captioned, Heading out for a night on the town! See you soon, guys!

  It had been posted only minutes earlier. His heart was suddenly beating fast, his fingers rising toward the screen before he jerked them back.

  He’d found her. Now all he had to do was get to—his eyes scanned down the page, searching for more information—to London, and hope she stayed put for at least a few hours.

  *~*~*

  Chapter 2 - Poppy

  Poppy Zlotsky had come to London to spend a little time on her own, to clear her head and consider what she really wanted to do next. For all that she still hadn’t found the ineffable something she had been looking for this year—for her whole life—she was getting tired of chasing it. She just wanted to sit still and watch people go by and think about what it was she was looking for, and why she thought she was so different from all the people just going about their normal lives in one place day after day, like she had never managed to do for long.

  So of course, she walked into a Pret a Manger to get a sandwich—in the City of London, the business district where she’d never spent any time and didn’t know anyone—and immediately spotted Sasha Baird in line at the counter. Worse, Sasha spotted her at the same time, breaking into a huge grin and waving at Poppy.

  Poppy couldn’t help waving back, forcing a wide, bright smile.

  Of course it would be Sasha, of all the people she could have run into. Poppy adored Sasha—you couldn’t help loving Sasha, she was so sweet and kind-hearted. She was just also constantly in the process of stumbling from one disaster to another, and Poppy couldn’t see a disaster unfolding without jumping in to help.

  So much for a quiet week or two in a hostel, unplugging from everything and thinking things over.

  Poppy felt like a jerk for thinking it in the next second, as Sasha hurried over, swinging her tray out of the way to enfold Poppy in a hug. Poppy hugged her back fiercely. One of the things she had been getting tired of lately was being alone all the time—even in a group, she was always separate somehow, the girl who was just passing through, the girl who was too smart and careful to mess around with strangers or let any guy tie her down. Sasha was a good friend, and Poppy was lucky to have friends to find in unexpected places.

  Poppy drew back from the hug and noticed Sasha’s neatly tailored work clothes as she excused herself to go buy lunch while Sasha found a table. She scolded herself more as she picked out a sandwich. Sasha was obviously here on her lunch break; she had a nice job in the city now. She was probably worrying about that poor Poppy Zlotsky who was basically homeless and wondering if Poppy was going to make her late getting back to work.

  Not even minutes later, Sasha blew that idea out of the water.

  “No,” Poppy said. “No, Sasha, you cannot be thinking of getting back together with Daniel. When I met you you had broken up with him for the third time and you were hiding from him in Nepal.”

  Sasha gave her that helpless pleading look Poppy knew all too well. “I know, I know, but he—”

  “No,” Poppy repeated. “Sasha, unless he’s joined a cult and been brainwashed into being a decent human being who won’t try to make you steal money from your parents when he’s short on cash—”

  “And I wasn’t hiding from him,” Sasha added, but she wouldn’t meet Poppy’s eyes now. “It’s not like he was abusive, and that whole money thing was a misunderstanding—”

  “Why,” Poppy demanded, not bothering to argue the fine points. “Sasha, why on earth would you get back together with him?”

  “He’s really sorry this time, Poppy. He’s changed, he’s got a good job. He sent me the most gorgeous flowers, and...” Sasha mumbled the end of it into her straw.

  Poppy narrowed her eyes. “What was that?”

  “He wants to take me to Paris,” Sasha repeated, slightly louder. “Tomorrow.”

  Poppy actually checked her phone to be sure. “Tomorrow is Wednesday, Sasha.”

  Sasha sat back with a sigh,
her shoulders slumping. “I know, but I hate this job, and it’s not going anywhere, so why—”

  “Because it’s not going anywhere,” Poppy pointed out. “Unlike Daniel, who’s going to whisk you off to Paris and then disappear for a month without calling, like he’s done before. You’ll be lucky if he brings you back to England first!”

  Sasha sighed, finally meeting Poppy’s eyes with an apologetic look. “I know! I know it’s not a good idea, but he really wants to try again, and, I mean, what if this is it? What if he’s the guy?”

  “You would know by now if he was the guy,” Poppy said firmly. Her romantic track record might be almost nonexistent—she never really stuck around long enough to be serious about anyone—but she was rock solid at knowing when a guy wasn’t a good idea. It was obvious that, after three tries with this one, Sasha knew it too.

  “You’re just bored, and running off to Paris sounds exciting, but you know it would go the same way this time that it did the last three times.”

  “Four,” Sasha muttered. “We hooked up last month, too.”

  Poppy shook her head. “Don’t even drag this out, Sasha, just tell him no. Here, give me your phone, I’ll tell him no.”

  Sasha handed over her phone and didn’t bother telling Poppy what she would see: it was right there at the bottom of the message chain. See you tonight!

  Poppy opened her mouth to scold Sasha again and winced, sitting back in her seat. “Sasha, really, are you in love with him? Do you actually want to get back together with him and run off to Paris together?”

  Poppy thought for a guilty second of her sister, Signy, who had sent her a text out of the blue a couple of weeks earlier, saying that she had met a guy and was going off to Europe with him. The handful of texts that followed seemed to indicate Signy was happy with her choice—but then of course Signy had done the right thing. Signy always did the right thing. Poppy was the wild, careless one, always running off.

  Sasha covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “I thought I was done with him, I was totally through, especially after last month. But I’m not seeing anyone else, and he promised to take me shopping, so I figured even if he’s as much of an asshole as ever, at least I get a shopping trip in Paris out of it? But you’re right, he would probably turn around and ask me to pay or just vanish and leave me there or something.”

  Poppy scrolled up through Sasha’s texts, looking for how Daniel had gotten her so turned around this time. She frowned as she read.

  “He’s really not taking no for an answer, is he?”

  Sasha groaned. “I know, I know, red flag.”

  “True, but...” Poppy kept scrolling. “I mean, he’s really specifically determined to take you to Paris tomorrow. Like. I think this is something shady, Sasha, like he has to be in Paris tomorrow for something, and—”

  Sasha got a weird look on her face and took a hasty bite of her sandwich.

  Poppy took a bite of her own lunch and stared Sasha down.

  “He didn’t just send me flowers,” Sasha admitted. “He sent me a new bag, too. And he told me that with traveling last minute, we might not have seats together. And he always gets hassled, so I should probably go through security separately.”

  Poppy put a hand over her mouth to keep from yelling out loud in the middle of the café. When she could control her voice she whispered, “Sasha! That is so many red flags. There are no red flags left for anything else! He used all of them!”

  “I know,” Sasha repeated, in the same tone as she’d used before, and then she stopped, her eyes going wide. Poppy could see the second when she flipped from feeling dumb about this to feeling scared, and she almost wanted to take it back, except that she had a feeling Sasha was right.

  Sasha leaned toward her, her gaze darting around like Daniel might have suddenly materialized in the café. “Oh my God, Pops, do you think he could be dangerous? If—like if I said no now, would he...”

  Poppy set Sasha’s phone down and closed her hand over Sasha’s. “Hey. Probably not, okay? He would probably just be a jerk about it.”

  Sasha didn’t quit looking scared, though.

  “Okay, look, you should go tonight, so he doesn’t think anything’s wrong,” Poppy said, the plan coming to her as she spoke. “But I’ll come with. And I’ll see if I can’t get him interested in me, right? See if he’ll invite me to Paris instead, get his attention off you. Then you can dump him for being a complete hound, go straight from the club to a train somewhere else—your aunt lives up north, right?”

  Sasha nodded, the fear in her eyes fading as she got drawn into Poppy’s plan. Poppy felt a little bad about that—what if she was just like Daniel, convincing Sasha to do what she wanted? Except that all Poppy wanted out of this was to help Sasha, unlike Daniel, who apparently wanted to do something illegal and maybe dangerous.

  “Whatever’s happening is happening tomorrow, so after that he probably won’t care anymore,” Poppy went on. “You can come back tomorrow night, block his number, move on.”

  Sasha nodded, then frowned. “But—wait, Poppy, you’re not going to go to Paris with him, right?”

  “Of course not,” Poppy assured her. “I’ll handle that part, don’t you worry.”

  Sasha grinned. “Of course you will. You always do, don’t you? You never need anyone to bail you out of anything.”

  Poppy smiled back. It wouldn’t do any good to let Sasha see that she had no idea how she was going to handle a guy like Daniel, or that she was getting tired of handling everything on her own. She couldn’t let Sasha down, so Poppy would just have to think of something.

  *~*~*

  Getting Daniel’s attention turned out to be no problem at all. As soon as he spotted Sasha and Poppy together, he zeroed in on Poppy and all but ignored Sasha. Poppy saw the amusement in his eyes every time Sasha tried to get his attention and knew that it wasn’t just that he was a dog, blatantly flirting with someone new while Sasha watched. Daniel was doing it on purpose to punish Sasha for bringing along a friend on what was supposed to be a date.

  Even knowing that cutting Sasha out was the whole point, Poppy couldn’t help feeling rude ignoring her. She angled herself partially away from Daniel on the little couch he’d maneuvered them to in a dark corner of the club. “So, Paris tomorrow, huh? Are you all packed? Leaving bright and early?”

  Daniel gave a nasty little laugh. “Sasha’s not the bright-and-early type, poppet.”

  Poppy gritted her teeth to keep from reacting to the nickname she hated most.

  “In fact, I expect an early bird could cut her out entirely,” Daniel added, sliding an arm around Poppy’s waist and tugging her close. “You’re a lively one, now. How’d you like to take a little jaunt with me tomorrow?”

  Poppy did a pretty good wide-eyed who me? look, and she turned it on full force. “What, you mean... but Sasha—”

  “No, you know what, I’ve had enough of this,” Sasha stood up. She sounded more hurt than angry, her bravado obvious, but that was all right, Poppy thought. No more than Daniel would expect, and once Sasha was out of this the first half of the plan would have worked. “Go to Paris with him, Poppy, just don’t ever tell me how it went. I’m through with both of you, you’re welcome to each other.”

  “Sasha,” Poppy tugged against Daniel’s grip, making to rise as Sasha stalked away, but Daniel held her in place with an iron grip. Poppy fought down a nasty squirm of fear.

  “Oh, no, poppet, you’re not going anywhere,” Daniel murmured. “Except to Paris, with me, like I said. You poach your friend’s man, you’d better stick with him for at least a day. Well, or a night.”

  Poppy made herself be still, made herself smile. She had to give Sasha time to get away from here—an hour or two, at least, before she could try to extricate herself.

  “All right,” Poppy said, turning a smile on Daniel. “But you’d better be able to keep up with me on the dance floor, then.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll find I can kee
p up with you anywhere,” Daniel growled, no hint of humor in his voice. But he let her stand, even if he didn’t let her out of arm’s reach.

  Poppy knew it was an illusion, but she felt safer with other people crowding around them. She let herself slide into the rhythm of music that was more a physical force than a sound, almost too loud to hear anything but the beat. As long as she could stay out here, as long as the music was playing, all Poppy had to do was dance.

  She just had to give Sasha enough time to get away, and then figure out how to get away herself. A chance would turn up. Something always turned up. She’d just have to keep her eyes open.

  But that would be later. For now, all she needed was the music and the crowd.

  *~*~*

  Chapter 3 - Tristan

  Tristan watched Peter stare into a laptop for the entire flight to London. He was convinced that he could determine what actual establishment Miss Zlotsky and her friend, Miss sallybird1995, were visiting tonight.

  Tristan had only touched down briefly in London a few times before, but he knew that the city held more people than all of Valtyra. They’d likely have to call on diplomatic assistance to connect with the local police, monitor information on airline passengers, circulate photographs, wade through hours of CCTV footage.

  But as they were descending toward Heathrow, Peter said, “I found them! I know what club they’re at.”

  He gave Tristan a look of hopeful almost-pride; if Tristan were the sort of person who could, this would be the time for a smile, or perhaps to squeeze his shoulder, to encourage him.