The Darkest Knight (Guardians of Camelot #3) - Victoria Sue Page 0,19
slept the night before. His sword was of course in the locked security box they all had in their vehicles, with the exception of Lucan, who somehow managed to conceal his enough with the straps he wore on his back while he rode his Harley. It helped they were all tall men. In fact, he wasn’t sure Ali didn’t have an inch of height on him, and in a pathetic way he was pleased Mel and Tom were smaller than he was.
In human years at the Battle of Camlaan, he certainly hadn’t been the youngest to die. He was pretty sure he was the youngest knight, but there had been many pages present, and he was sure they hadn’t all escaped.
He smiled at Jethro, Roxy’s doorman, as he left and crossed the street to the multilevel lot just as his cell phone started ringing. It was Gawain. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes to an hour depending on the traffic through the Battery Tunnel.”
“Okay. We wondered if you wanted us to save you some supper?”
Kay’s belly growled in response. “Yeah, I’m starved.” He hoped Charles hadn’t cooked it, but he was hungry, and he was a good cook. And I can’t stay away forever.
He’d been overoptimistic with his guess of thirty minutes. The three-lane FDR drive was busy but moving until he went under Battery Park and everything slowed. The traffic was awful, and between construction and what seemed like everyone in the western hemisphere heading for the tunnel, he’d barely moved in forty minutes. He’d had a spectacular sunset to watch though. He reached for his phone as he approached the entrance and called Gawain again.
“You’ve missed the best chicken marsala I have ever eaten.”
Kay groaned pitifully. “I’m just driving into the Battery Tunnel, and I think at this point it would be faster to walk.” He groaned again as everything ground to a halt. He assumed there had been an accident, but he couldn’t see anything. “I think there’s been an accident.”
Gawain’s voice sobered. “Ali has been in Manhattan. She’s just come through the tunnel because there is construction on Brooklyn Bridge. She said it was busy—be careful.”
Kay blew out a frustrated breath. All the cars had come to a standstill even though both lanes were open. If there’d been an accident higher up, he assumed the cops or ambulance had come in from the other end. They would clear the traffic at the other side of the crash and deal with it, but at this side they had no choice but to wait.
Kay gazed at the line of cars. One driver two cars ahead had gotten out and was trying to see what the holdup was. Kay lowered his window and listened for the sirens, just as his truck shuddered and stalled. Kay frowned but then heard a shout and looked up. A man in a suit was staggering through the line of cars holding his hands out, smeared in what looked like blood. Kay immediately scrambled out and weaved his way between the cars toward him. “Sir? Where are you hurt?”
He looked at Kay, face distraught. “It’s not mine. It’s hers.”
“Show me.”
Other drivers started to get out of their cars. The driver paled but followed Kay. Murmurs rose. “Ask if there’s a doctor,” Kay shouted and ran to where the man had come from. There was a car, a silver Hummer, turned sideways and a black S600 Mercedes limousine that the Hummer had rammed. The Hummer seemed to be unscathed, but the Mercedes had been hit side-on. Three people were trying to pull open the rear door. “Let me,” Kay said, immediately opening the front door, prepared to climb over the seat to see who was hurt. Kay ignored the broken glass that seemed to be everywhere just as some woman started screaming the tunnel was flooding.
For a second he heard a deathly silence, then a cacophony of shouts from different people.
He glanced over at the back seat, even as the people near the door seemed to melt away, and Kay’s heart just about stopped.
“Roxy?”
Then he moved and managed to get in the back seat. She was still sitting, her head lolled to one side, but as he croaked out her name, unbelievably she gasped a rattling breath. Her shirt was covered in specks of blood, and there was glass everywhere.
“Roxy,” Kay begged. Not Roxy. Not her, but even as his mind shrieked its denial, Roxy coughed again and opened her eyes.