The Prince and the Pencil Pusher: A M/M Superhero Romance (Royal Powers Book 7)

by Kenzie Blades

  I blinked once, my facade of calm readiness breaking . I uncrossed my arms and took a step farther inside.

  “Show me. What are these numbers?”

  Zain turned with no small bit of pride to the main hangar floor. Stations marked one through four by long flags that hung from the ceiling took up each of the corners. The entryway was through wide sliding doors in the middle of the shorter end, which is where we stood. A wide walkway between stations one and two led to a circle in the middle of a crossroad that delineated stations three and four. Whereas a smattering of objects and testing stations were strewn across the floor space in stations one through four, the circle in the middle was painted in purple. Above it hung a flag of the same hue that displayed the number five.

  “Your training will happen in five phases,” Zain began to explain, walking us forward and to the left, where he motioned to the objects in station number one. “First, you will practice your power on inanimate objects. They are regarded as the easiest sort of thing to influence, as these things go. Though the objects represented here may seem random or commonplace, mastering each of them will be an important stepping stone to going to the next phase.

  “Go ahead,” he urged when I walked too gingerly. “Touch anything. It won’t break.”

  I just shook my head, slightly and quickly, and stayed on the corridor side of the line, overwhelmed.

  “From there…” Zain continued, motioning across the corridor to station two, “you will move onto the elements—not as straightforward to work with, unfortunately.”

  The seemingly random purpose of the mismatched elements came together in my mind. Two fire pits—one air, one gas. A fan and a swamp cooler. A stone fountain. These were simple things that could be done inside. I had seen natural features around the property that I might practice working with as well.

  “For the third phase, you will work on living things,” Zain continued, speaking in a calm voice and strolling at an easy pace meant to disarm me.

  This station looked more like a greenhouse, though it wasn’t encased in glass. Grow lights were bright and hung above rows and rows of various flowers and plants. This part of the area was visible from many feet away.

  “Given what I can already do with grapes—which seem to fall into the third category—shouldn’t I be adept at the earlier two?” I asked.

  “In theory, yes. It’s possible that you are proficient and simply did not know that you were because lack of comprehension of your own power never found you making an attempt. Whether it comes easily or not, the main goal of training is to practice. It’s not enough to have the ability to use your power—you must gain a level of proficiency to use it on demand and to deliver it with surgical precision. Remember…animals are also living things.”

  The expression my face fell as Zain spoke the words, at the exact same moment when a small area with animals in cages revealed itself as part of the third space.

  “We must be certain that your powers are extremely well-controlled before we move on to animals. If I’m ever hard on you, Xabier. That is why.”

  My eyes widened at his use of my given name and it did something to my insides when his lips softened into a slight smile.

  “From you? I would not expect anything less.” My voice was quiet.

  “The fourth station,” Zain continued, a bit flustered, “is for composites. The ability to alter one component of something but to allow the others to remain intact. It’s like the example I gave you in your office that day—things like turning up the alcohol content in a mixed drink.”

  “What is that contraption?” I asked.

  “It is a convection oven. You are fond of foreign bakery, are you not? At some point, we have it on the schedule for you to double the amount of chocolate chips in a batch of baked cookies.”

  I smiled once more, amused and a bit impressed.

  “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

  Zain’s expression became self-righteous. “Contrary to what some people believe about me, I like to have a bit of fun.”

  He held my gaze for longer than strictly necessary and I could not turn away. It caused me to think—once again—of the night before, of things said for the first time and things not said at all.

  “And the fifth phase?” I asked finally, my eyes remaining on Zain rather than turning back toward the purple circle that we had already passed. Thoughts about the fifth phase may have been the only ones that could have broken the spell. They rooted me back into the danger of all of this.

  “During the fifth phase, you will master turning human powers up and down.”

  I half-blinked. “What if—“

  I didn’t need to finish.

  “You will only attempt that ability if you have mastered the previous four phases, and only then if you are confident that you can be successful in your attempt. By that point, you will have a better sense of how well you can control your powers. We will have plenty of information of the wisdom of proceeding then.”

  I nodded lightly, and finally broke his gaze, crossing my arms once more and looking toward the purple area in the middle of the room.

  “The markings are significant,” Zain went on. “And your practice will be done in this room, on a human subject. When you embark upon it, a circle of five of the most powerful devos will surround you. If your own powers spin out of control, their combined powers should be enough to contain it, and to stop and repair any damage that was done to your subject.”

  “Should be?” I repeated with alarm. “Have these safeguards ever failed?”

  Zain regarded me gravely. “Yes.”

  I quieted then, letting it all sink in.

  “What shall happen should I fail to master these skills?” I asked finally. “Queen Maialen said that others are carrying the work. But that they have become exhausted. What if those powers falter?”

  Zain’s answer was more neutral than I would have liked. “In order to protect the realm, we must work with whatever resources we have.”

  I squared my shoulders and nodded. “When will I meet my team?”

  “Tomorrow morning you begin. Today is orientation. And rest. This marks the beginning of a new chapter in your life.”

  Suddenly, I was afraid that he would leave. If I was to have a separate team of trainers, and we were no longer in the Ministry every day, I could not imagine his role.

  “How will you spend your time?” I asked directly.

  “I will close out your case,” he replied. I could not read the expression on his face. “I will oversee the details of your training and serve as an ambassador between you and the team. A bit of moral support thrown in as well, as the training will not be easy. We will be sequestered in a private cottage where we may roam freely and be unmasked within that domain. But my job is mostly done.”

  Good, I thought instinctively. He could have given no better answer. The world had moved beneath me, but I, too, could affect change.

  “In that case,” I replied. “Let me make you dinner.”

  -

  Zain

  The cottage was well stocked, as were the cellars, a circumstance that I had hoped for. The notion of sequestration for security reasons had worked out well. The training gym looked difficult but I could see the intentionality. I was meant to work hard by day, but to enjoy a relaxed atmosphere by night.

  Zain Otxoa was surprised that I could cook, though he had no occasion to know that cooking was something I did well. I had gone far to try to impress him—that had been the entire point. I wanted him to know how much attention I had paid to him these two years—about his tastes and his preferences, about things he liked to eat and drink and things he didn’t care for at all. I also wanted to know more about who he truly was. What better occasion than on the day after all illusions had been acknowledged?

  Questions at dinner turned into questions afterward. He seemed at ease and open to answering. We sat now by the pool at the back of our cottage, feet bare and legs
dangling into the water as we shared a bottle of after dinner wine. I had heard about his family, and what he did on his time off, and what he loved about interventions. It was just the beginning of everything I wanted to know.

  “So are we or aren’t we?” Xabier asked an hour later as we lounged on the veranda, pouring one tiny glass at a time of port as we gazed up at the stars.

  “Are we or aren’t we what?” I wanted to know.

  “I suppose that I am still the Minister of Powers. So I guess what I’m wondering is…are you still my employee?”

  It was too dark for him to see me make a sweeping motion with my arm, which is exactly what I did before proclaiming, “We all are.”

  “It poses some difficulty,” the Prince remarked, “when the vast majority of the people I meet are subordinated to me in some way. It’s one of the unadvertised benefits of being third in line to the throne. It makes forging friendships—and anything else—rather complicated.”

  Between the food and the wine, Xabier’s suggestion sounded like one of the most preposterous things I had ever heard. I chuckled heartily.

  “I am the thorniest thorn in your side. And you want to be friends?”

  I thought it was hilarious, but I stifled my laughter when I could see he was beginning to look a bit offended.

  “No, Mr. Otxoa. Not friends.”

  Oh.

  Before I could react, he moved the bottle and the glasses, propped himself up on his elbow and rolled over on his left side, peering down at me and not looking intoxicated in the slightest. I wondered absently whether his power made it so that he couldn’t get drunk, like starting off as some sort of wine god had made him immune. I was too buzzed to do the mental math so defaulted to the conclusion that it didn’t make much sense.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the way he said it, I knew he meant it deeply. “I’ve wanted to tell you before. And since I’m fairly certain you don’t work for me anymore, I thought it might be time.”

  “Technically, I was only tricking you into thinking I worked for you. I was under the orders of Queen Maialen all along.”

  “Even better,” he whispered. “Then I won’t feel an ounce of creepy guilt for doing this.”

  He put his warm hand on my shoulder for the briefest of seconds before sliding it to my neck and palming the back of my head in his hand. He stroked the tip of his nose with mine before capturing my lips in a kiss. I’d been told that mine were luscious, which I had never fully understood or appreciated as a compliment until the moment that I tasted his.

  His lips were soft, but his kiss was hungry, slow but urgent all at once, deep and fixating, as if I couldn’t pull away. It pulled me out of myself and into myself and upside down and inside out, and with every passing instant, much closer to him. We both made sounds, I thought. Only, I couldn’t really think and it could be that the muffled moans existed only in my mind. The blood flow in my brain could not have been adequate for as quickly as most of it had gone rushing to my groin. Kissing the Prince was sexy as hell.

  “Zain,” he whispered as he pulled away.

  I had just had some sort of kiss-gasm. I knew that wasn’t a thing. Only, kissing Xabier, it was—some sort of climax that came at the height of our epic kissing, that left me intoxicated and sated and spent. We kissed once more—long and magnificent then pulled away again to catch our breath, then recovered quickly, ready to go right back in again.

  Somehow, we went from being propped up on elbows to being propped up on hands to practically climbing in each other’s laps as we kissed. I was only peripherally aware of this movement, which fully explained my utter surprise when we landed—fully clothed and clinging to one another—in the pool.

  A splash of surprise. A bit of laughter. Ruined cell phones and wallets possibly, and, best of all, some very clingy, wet garments. We somehow resumed our kissing and half-walked, half swam to the shallow end all at once. In three feet of water, it was easier to kiss and touch and rub and to divest ourselves of our clothes.

  “Fuck, you’re sexy.”

  My first words in minutes were utterly unnecessary. The state of my cock said it all. In three feet of water, I was up to my thighs, my balls grazing the top of the water, with my cock, hot and ready in the night air. A cold pool of water was no match for a hot Xabi.

  He backed me up to the low wall, pressing our bodies against each other once again as we kissed, our cocks colliding deliciously as we made our fumbling way. Once we got to the edge, he gave me the smallest of lifts to get me sitting fully on the side. From there, he stopped the kissing, bracing me with a strong arm holding my back as he looked down at me.

  “So beautiful, Zain.”

  He bowed his forehead until his touched mine and he closed his eyes. At that moment, he threaded the fingers of his free hand into mine and I wondered whether he was drunk after all. Only, I felt sober and everything he was doing felt real. He opened his eyes and they were so dark. Hard to see, but so complex. My dick throbbed against his stomach and he blinked, then ground against me, then let out a breathy growl I didn’t think I would ever forget.

  From there, he bowed me back, kissing down my jaw and my neck, and down my nipples and even lower still. He straddled in the water until he stood at exactly the perfect height. Only when his hands were on my thighs and his mouth was on my cock and my head was thrown back in ecstasy did I realize that I had passed the point of no return.

  -

  Xabier

  “Did you see me today?”

  I called to Zain as soon as his form came into view. He appeared to be reading on the veranda. I could hear the excitement in my voice as I pulled off my sweatshirt and tugged off my hood. I had run back to the cottage, metaphorically speaking, of course. It reminded me of my days as a schoolboy, tearing away from my lessons in order to rush through the fields to get to the secret fort. In this case, it was a little cottage by a stream that I had begun to think of as ours, the three weeks that we had spent here a blissful eternity. Instead of Fesik and the other boys, Zain awaited me to play.

  “I thought I made you nervous.”

  It took a long moment for my gaze to reach his eyes, which regarded me with humor. I was too appreciative of his lithe form as he lounged on the chair. He sat in the shade of the afternoon, simply warming himself in the dry, gentle breeze, his smooth, luminous skin beckoning me to relieve him from his adorable, fitted, chartreuse colored trunks.

  “You do,” I admitted. “But you have a habit of ignoring my requests and doing whatever you want in the end.”

  His magazine fell to his lap and he gave me a look. “Pot, meet kettle.”

  “Well, did you see me or not?”

  “I only peeked in the morning,” he admitted. “I spent the afternoon plotting a slow seduction.” He put the magazine down on the side table and swung his legs around until he sat sideways on the lounger. “Why? What new trick did you learn to do?”

  From there, I launched into the story of how I had mastered all of the composites in a single day—from liquids, to solids, to gas. I had turned ocean water to pure salt. Turned a chamber of ambient air into 100% nitrogen, then given it its oxygen back. I had neutralized carbon dioxide—a feat the supervising scientist hadn’t believed my ability could do. There was talk of what it all meant for the ozone layer.

  Zain insisted that he was very impressed and lavished me with princely praise—laid on so thick that we both had to chuckle. When he pouted with complaints of how sweaty I had been coming home these past days, the plan of his seduction became clear. It involved getting naked and rinsing off in the creek, then moving the party to the shower, hours later, we were cuddled in the tub, eating honey and nuts and cheese and nuts with fingers that were as pruny as all get-out. Every day when I left the training hangar, I was exhausted. That day, I had dozed on the short ride from the gym to the car. Yet, one glance at Zain—one suggestive glance—rejuvenated me.

  “They’ve named a day for the final test,
” I told him after long moments of quiet, as we clung together and petted and lounged.

  In our days together at the cabin, we had shared so much more than sex.

  “When will it be?”

  His voice was neutral and I lounged in his arms, which meant that I could not see his face. The sun had long-since set. Perhaps he was lulling into sleep.

  “Thursday,” I said. “Five days from now. They need to call in all of the guardians who will be there to hold space.”

  “You have excelled at your training, Xabi. You must know at least that.”

  It had become evident that I had learned quickly—after the early, difficult days, I had sailed through tasks with increasing speed. I had noticed that the coaches had been careful what they said around me, so as not to build overconfidence. But I’d heard some of their chatter and seen some of the astonishment on their faces.

  “What if I fail?”

  My voice was so quiet that it could barely be heard above the stirring of the water, as wayward feet and hands kissed the bubbles on top.

  “You won’t.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “And even if you do, you have mastered a set of skills that will still prove invaluable to the Ministry’s work.”

  “Will you come be with me on that day? I know that I banned you, but…I don’t think I can do it without you.”

  He pressed another kiss onto my head.

  “Of course I will be there. I will serve as one of your guardians.”

  I spited the instinct that told me to sit up, daring not to leave the sconce of his arms. “You will?” I blurted out with excitement.

  “Remember only this. If your power has spun out of your control, seek me out with your eyes or turn to me when I call. I will tell you then exactly what to do.”