Children of the Knight (75 page)

A
T
THE
first sound of approaching sirens, Arthur nodded to Justin.

“Thank you, Sir Justin,” he said, placing one hand on the tall boy’s shoulder. “Ye have done a great deed this night for the people of thy city. Your father would be proud of thee.”

Justin basked in the compliment but lowered his gaze at the mention of his father. “I don’t think so,” he said with a sigh. “Probably just think I’m some kinda pyro or somethin’.” What
would
his dad think?

Arthur waited, never taking his eyes from the boy’s face until Justin raised his head again sheepishly. “I take great pride in thee, Sir Justin, and I thank thee for thy loyalty.” He offered a small smile, patted the boy on the back, and turned to the others. “Now, my brave and noble young knights, we have a rendezvous with the mayor.”

He exchanged a look with Jenny and then glanced down at Chris, who gazed at the burning building in wonder. The top floors were completely engulfed in flames, and the number of people beating against the locked garage gate had nearly doubled.

Arthur slipped quickly up into Llamrei’s saddle, knowing the approaching sirens would arrive in time to save those who were trapped. Hopefully, they would acknowledge the note he’d had Justin attach to the padlock and then arrest them all.

But that decision would be theirs to make.

He reached down for Chris’s upraised hand and easily hefted the small boy up into the saddle, adjusting Chris’s helm and noting the long blond hair flowing from beneath it.
Was I once so small and young
, he mused as Jenny deftly climbed up behind him?

He turned and cast her as reassuring a look as he could muster before flicking the reins and starting down the street, his team of knights flanking and following. Since they weren’t far from City Hall they were all on foot, Justin’s mom’s SUV left behind for the time being.

L
ANCE
and Jack remained untied but held at gunpoint by the two Asians flanking them. They knew if either of them made a move, any move, it would be their last. So they sat stiffly against one another, glancing about the unabashed opulence of the limo and awaiting an opportunity to put their plan into action.

Ramirez observed them with amusement. The look in his eyes frightened Lance and Jack in equal measure, because they knew this man had no conscience. Whatever he was planning had to be stopped.

Frustrated by his predicament, Lance looked down at the floor, hoping to appear humble, while his mind raced for a solution. He almost sucked in a startled breath, but held it back. Tucked under Ramirez’s seat, right behind his feet, was Lance’s skateboard. He figured it must’ve been tossed under there when he and Jack had been kidnapped and then forgotten. Could that be of use, he wondered?

But his thoughts were interrupted by movement from Ramirez. He flicked his eyes up and onto the man’s face nervously. Ramirez laughed.

“So jumpy, Pretty Boy,” the man mocked, making a big show of reaching into his pocket.

Lance and Jack held their breath, certain a gun would be produced. But Ramirez merely pulled out a cell phone.

Lance’s cell phone.

The boy’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Hey, that’s my phone—”

A hard, bony elbow to the ribs cut him off, and he coughed and spluttered to catch his breath.

Ramirez looked at him smugly. “I do believe that children should be seen, but not heard. Isn’t that the adage?” He chuckled as Lance struggled to regain his composure, and Jack glared furiously. “Whatever, it applies to pretty boys, as well.”

Jack had to fight the urge to jump the man then and there. But he knew he’d likely not even land one punch before he’d have a bullet in the back. So he sat and simmered, regarding Lance with sympathy. The smaller boy met his eye and nodded, as if to say, “I’m okay.”

Ramirez thumbed in the number. He’d memorized it before deleting Arthur’s messages. Oddly enough, the name that came up was “Reyna,” not “Arthur,” but he surmised the king must’ve borrowed someone else’s phone.

“I think it’s high time I had a little chat with your so-called King Arthur, don’t you?”

Neither boy answered as Ramirez pressed “Send.”

Chapter 14

A
RTHUR
and his team had made good progress. They’d proceeded straight up Temple from the warehouse and had acquired quite an entourage along the way. Some of Arthur’s other knights, who had completed their own raids, folded into the parade, as had been planned. But what hadn’t been planned were the people, local residents, many of them children and their parents, who spotted the march from their windows and had spilled out onto the sidewalk to follow. Seeing Arthur and his knights in the flesh was a thrill, and seeing them on the march meant something was going on, probably something good, and they wanted a front-row seat.

Jenny was amazed as the number of followers kept increasing. She’d known Arthur was popular, especially with children. But many of the new marchers were adults who didn’t have any kids with them. She marveled at the power this man seemed to have over the populace. Within a few blocks the procession had outgrown the width of the sidewalk, and people were spilling out into the street, causing drivers to slow down and gawk at the impromptu parade.

Arthur had just passed the intersection with Los Angeles Street when the phone in his pocket began vibrating.

He frowned. Since all of his teams knew to meet at City Hall upon completion of their raids, and there was no need for communication, he felt a sudden chill run up his back. He slipped out the phone and glanced at the name—Lance. But rather than elation, fear seized him, and he hesitantly placed the phone to his ear.

“Yes, this is Arthur.”

A stony, heartless voice came out of the phone, and the words pierced his heart like a knife. “I have your pretty boy, and you want him back.”

Arthur sucked in a loud breath of shock, drawing Jenny’s attention.

“Arthur, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer, his heart thumping frantically, that shadow of doom closing in on him from all sides. He said into the phone, “Who are you?”

L
ANCE
observed Ramirez settle more comfortably into his seat, crossing his legs and smirking like a predator about to strike. Lee, as always, remained unreadable.

“Who I am isn’t terribly important,” Ramirez began smugly. “Let’s just say I’m the true ruler of this city. It’s belonged to me for years, and I intend to keep it. Your pathetic attempt to return it to the people ends tonight.”