Page 21 of The Ranger
“No,” Erwin said. “There are some men staying here. They’re passing through.”
“Three men.” He cocked his head as if listening, but he was trying to sense the men’s hearts. Problem was, he couldn’t sense much. Maybe he’d feel better after he got some food in his belly.
“I think they’re barbed wire salesmen,” Erwin said.
Markhel gave him a single nod. “I will go to my room.”
“Here, I’ll help you.” Erwin handed the key to Prince Vale then hurried out the door.
He gave Vale and Makama a single nod and followed.
Erwin was practically dancing down the hall. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait to speak to them.”
“His royal highness will be busy, and there may not be a lot of time, but I do know Makama would like to talk with you.”
Erwin’s eyes popped wide. “His royal highness? He’s freaking royalty?!”
“He is a prince of Dalrovia. But you need not introduce him as such.”
Erwin sobered. “Hey, why are you here anyway?” He studied Markhel, his eyes roaming over his big frame. “You don’t look so good, you know that?”
“I am aware.” He stared him down.
Erwin gulped and quickly unlocked the door. He picked up the large valise, hauled it inside and set it on a chair. “Let me know if you need anything.” He looked him over again. “You’re... you here to bond with someone, aren’t you?”
Markhel sighed. “I am.”
Erwin backed up a step or two. “Wow, um, okay. Can I ask who?”
He went to the bed and sat. “Maida Comfort.”
Erwin gasped. “Dang man, your heart would go for a tough one.”
He arched an eyebrow at him.
“What I mean is, she’s... well, she’s the daughter of... oh, man, she’s a Cooke. Dating her is gonna be like dating a girl kept in Fort Knox.”
His other eyebrow went up. “What is this Fort Knox?”
Erwin shook his head. “You haven’t got a clue, do you?”
Markhel looked away. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. For one, he was not as familiar with the ways of humans as he ought to be. No wonder Prince Vale and his mate were sent. He was going to need all the help he could get to navigate his way to Maida Comfort’s heart. A task that was easier said than done.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” Erwin reiterated. “You just say the word.”
Markhel nodded. “Thank you.” He saw him to the door. Erwin came to Clear Creek with Makama’s parents, Duncan and Cozette Cooke, in 1891, to aid in the match between Andrew Beaumont and Tillie White, a Muiraran who, like so many others, had been stolen as an infant, hidden in another time. As his race was scattered throughout time to stay hidden, it was hard to track the number of babes taken. There were not enough Time Masters to check on all the Muiraran colonies and track the incidents in a timely manner. But lately, when they did visit a colony, there were more and more reports of children gone missing.
Just the thought angered him, and he would have to calm down lest he break something. Like the chairs in the hotel’s dining room or a few tables.
When he went downstairs, Makama and Vale were waiting for him in the lobby.
“This place is so charming,” Makama said. “I hope we have time to explore everything.”
“You will,” he assured them. “But do not wander.”
“Why not?” she asked. “There aren’t outlaws in the area, are there?”
“Not that I know of, but...” he stopped, his instinct kicking in. His hearts reacted, his physical heart pounding, his inner heart opening a crack. Enough to let a horrible deep, dark emptiness flood in. Markhel doubled over in pain and grabbed the edge of the hotel’s front counter to keep from going down. He gripped it so hard the wood cracked.