Bonds

by Susan Copperfield

  If I could control someone’s bleeding with magic, it’d be invaluable in my line of work. Every time we lost someone during a rescue, their death haunted me—and the others—often for weeks. I hated losing. They did, too. If I could staunch the bleeding, their chances of survival would skyrocket. Not everyone could be saved, but it would be a start.

  “I’d like that,” I finally admitted.

  “It doesn’t take much magic, just a lot of concentration. It’s an excellent method to test if patients are over the worst of talent exertion. It’ll be a good addition to your resume, too.”

  My resume didn’t need any work—assuming I continued to do search and rescue work. “How long does recovery take?”

  “Well, they require a two week evaluation to check for medical life bonds, although I believe you’re at very low risk. There aren’t any of the standard symptoms. It’s usually easy to identify. Talent exertion is tricky. You could recover within hours, or it could take a month or longer. I think you’ll be a longer case because of how severe the case is. In two weeks, we’ll start evaluating your talent. Until then, view it as a nice vacation that you don’t have to pay for. Travel expenses and your salary are being covered as well, in addition to your rent while you’re gone. The RPS has been making most of the arrangements.”

  Life had become complicated, and while I didn’t regret doing my best to prevent an environmental disaster, I did regret having fallen into the hands of a Royal family. I also regretted lowering my guard and telling my family’s secret, although I wondered if anything would change for us.

  Probably not.

  Well, probably not for them, if I had anything to do with it. I’d been discovered and would pay the consequences for my actions. I could only hope the same wouldn’t apply to my family.

  “Brace yourself,” Melody muttered as more people streamed into the vast room. “The Royals are coming.”

  I wondered how the hell I’d survive a night completely surrounded by royalty from all around Europe. I shot a look at Louis.

  Louis grinned and said, “You can’t run, and you can’t hide. Enjoy the party. That’s all that’s left to do, Jack. They don’t bite, not even Antoinette.” His grin turned into the type of leer I expected from a wino after a night at the wine fountain. “But that princess? She could bite me any time, oui?”

  Everyone in France knew about the brunette, a beauty who could charm a man with her smile and had a reputation for leaving trails of clothes between her hunting grounds and the nearest motel. “She’s not my type, Louis.”

  “Less competition is good,” the pilot replied. “Do hurry back to France. I will do my best to always fly for you. Where you go, interesting things happen.”

  I rolled my eyes at that. In the search and rescue world, interesting usually meant dangerous, something nobody wanted but we faced every shift. Instead of calling him out on it, I braced for the wave of royalty ready to eat me alive.

  I thought I would escape the palace unscathed, but Princess Antoinette of France placed a tiny, fluffy black kitten into my hands. “Her name is Sparrow, and she is yours.”

  Somehow, I’d gotten through dinner without making a complete fool of myself. I’d managed to speak to royalty from every European kingdom, although I’d slipped when I’d used country instead of kingdom. The French monarchs limited their interactions with me to a brief thank you, leaving Melody to keep me entertained and guide me through the murky world of royalty.

  I managed to dodge accepting all but one invitation, and my brief encounter with Her Royal Majesty of Montana had left me flustered, especially as she’d handed me her baby when her toddler had fallen over trying to run without much success. The baby stared at me with bright blue eyes and cooed at me.

  I emerged from the experience aware I’d likely be just like His Royal Majesty of Montana if I ever got around to having children of my own. I wanted to spend the rest of the night cuddling with the little girl and ignoring the presence of royalty.

  A kitten, however, hadn’t been a part of my plans or expectations for the evening.

  Sparrow purred, rolled onto her back, and attacked my thumb with her sharp little teeth.

  “She seems to like my thumb,” I said, my eyes widening as the realization a princess had given me a cat sank in. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  Was I supposed to thank her for giving me a pet? Why had the princess given me a kitten? What was I supposed to do with a kitten?

  How had she known I liked cats? Nobody knew I liked cats, and my landlord would pitch a fit when I began negotiations to keep a kitten in my tiny apartment.

  Royalty. They existed to vex me in every way possible.

  “I saw you, and I knew she was for you, so I made the arrangements.” Antoinette glanced at Melody. “You don’t mind, Melody? She will need to accompany you on your plane.”

  Melody smiled. “It’s all right, Annie. Sparrow is adorable, and I’ll make sure she’s able to stay with Jack during his treatments. I’m sure Father will pitch a fit, but that’s what my father does when pets enter the palace clinic.” Her smile widened to a grin. “I’m proud you found a way to poke my father with a stick. You’d sworn vengeance.”

  “My vengeance is black, furry, and precious, is she not? She’s the runt of the litter, and who better to take care of her than a man who rescues the helpless? That is what my Sparrow is, she is helpless.”

  The ‘helpless’ Sparrow would have my thumb reduced to tattered flesh and bone given ten minutes. “She won’t be a problem, Melody?”

  Instead of translating my question to mean ‘help me, a princess just gave me a kitten and expects me to care for it,’ Melody smiled and said, “Sparrow won’t be a problem. The France royal family is renowned for their love of cats, and they breed some of the best Maine coons in the world. Sparrow is a smoky black. Her coat is mostly black, but she also has dark gray in her undercoat. You can see it if you rub her fur backwards. As she grows older, it’ll give her coat the appearance of smoke. Right now, she looks mostly black, but you’ll see that silvery smoke color come in more as she ages. Her conformity is absolutely beautiful.”

  “And she is the sweetest of kittens. But runty,” Antoinette said, her tone sad. “So runty.”

  “Runty?” I asked, and unwilling to set the kitten on the table, I scooted my chair back and placed her on my lap, petting her. Sparrow purred and continued to assault my thumb. Being a foolish man with a soft spot for kittens, I let her. I had no idea what I’d tell my landlord, but I’d figure that out—or ask Antoinette to help as she’d foisted the animal on me.

  Unlike the offers, of which there’d been many, I couldn’t refuse the kitten. I’d even done as Melody suggested, accepting a vague invitation from Her Royal Majesty of Montana to visit her and the children and come riding horses for a weekend or three. The or three part of the conversation had worried me, as I’d gotten the impression I’d be staying for those weeks, too.

  To avoid thinking about the idea of going even deeper into the heart of the Royal States, I asked, “She’s a little small, but isn’t she very young?”

  “Oh, yes. She should be four times that size,” Antoinette admitted. “Father is sad, too. She is perfect in all things but size. Healthy as ox! Fierce as tiger! But small. Father says she’s only good to be a house pet, and she won’t be bred. I think he’s wrong. You should ask Melody if she would be willing to breed with her line one day.”

  Melody sucked in a breath, and I wondered if the kitten was more of a present to her than for me. Then again, if it gave Melody an excuse to visit me from time to time, I’d shamelessly adopt a cute kitten to make it happen.

  “I would like that. She’s stunning, and we don’t have any kittens from the French line. And smaller isn’t bad. I like smaller cats.”

  Bemused, I watched the princesses while petting Sparrow. Louis nudged me with his elbow, leaned over, and whispered, “Introduce us?”

  I laughed, which drew the attention
of everyone at the table. “Sorry. Your Highness, this is Louis, one of the pilots I work with. He flew the helicopter during the squall. He’s charmed.”

  Antoinette smiled, and her attention focused on Louis. “He is charmed and shy. I like shy men. They are usually capable of rational and interesting thought.”

  Melody rose. “Let’s switch seats then, Louis. Unfortunately, we have to wait for everyone else to leave before we get to leave. The French view it as rude to leave before the guests.”

  The pilot’s eyes widened, but he stood and swapped chairs with Melody.

  “I guess I’m not ready to expire yet, am I?” I muttered while she sat.

  Melody chuckled. “I’m afraid not. Dinner and socializing did a good job of perking you up.” She nudged me with an elbow. “Don’t deny it. Your eyes lit up the instant Annie gave you Sparrow.”

  Busted, but I didn’t care. “Someone has to wage war with my landlord. He doesn’t like cats or dogs.”

  “If he is unwilling to accept Sparrow, I’ll have Annie help find an apartment for you in your budget,” she promised. “Annie loves toying with people. It’s one of her joys in life. She’s going to eat your friend for dessert.”

  “I figured that one out on my own. And he will enjoy every minute of it, I’m sure. He’s smitten.”

  “If he bites off more than he can chew, it’s not my fault,” she announced.

  I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Her father wants her to marry, so she’s on the prowl. She’s pretty rebellious, and her father has conceded she can pick whomever she wants. I blame Texas for that trend. His Royal Majesty came from a low caste, and everyone adores him. Her Royal Majesty of Montana was also classified as a null for most of her life, and while she’ll knock heads together, everyone loves her, too. Most of us have figured out magical aptitude isn’t everything at this point.”

  I snorted at that. “The instant royalty no longer produces Royal talents, that way of thinking will change,” I predicted.

  “You’re probably right, but us younger royals will enjoy it while we can. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Within a few weeks, your life will go back to normal.”

  While she likely meant to reassure me, I questioned if my life would ever be able to go back to normal. I’d seen too much and said too much.

  Worse, I feared I would remember too much.

  Chapter Six

  Somehow, I’d been tricked.

  While Melody had warned me we would be staying at the palace, I’d missed the memo that we’d be sharing a suite, which had four bedrooms and sufficient space for us and her team of RPS agents. I marveled at the suite’s layout, which had two bedrooms deep within, which seemed easy enough to defend. I got one of those rooms while Melody got the other, and our rooms shared a connecting door, which Melody insisted remain unlocked at a minimum should she need to tend to me in the middle of the night.

  Sparrow found the arrangement acceptable, and she immediately took over the middle of the bed, curled up, and took a nap.

  To my dismay, the tiny kitten had managed to place herself just so, ensuring I might have to contort to sleep on the bed or sleep elsewhere. I spent at least ten minutes glaring at the sleeping kitten, at a loss of how to deal with the situation.

  Melody poked her head into the room and laughed. “You can move her.”

  “Do you read minds?”

  “No, I just have five cats of my own at home, and they all insist on sleeping with me. They can be moved without the world coming to an immediate end.”

  I narrowed my eyes and considered Sparrow. “Are you really sure?”

  Melody laughed, stepped into the room, scooped Sparrow up, and placed her on one of the pillows at the head of the bed. The kitten didn’t even stir. “There you go. She’ll be fine on the pillow. Take a warm soak before you go to bed. It’ll help with the soreness—and yes, you’ll be sore tomorrow. The flight will inevitably leave you even more sore, too. Once we’re in Maine, we can start a physical therapy regime that’ll get you back into shape, but it’ll be a rough week or two on you. Fortunately, you’ll recover quickly.”

  Not only was my doctor beautiful, she had a mean streak a mile wide. I’d appreciate that in a month despite dreading the hell she’d soon put me through. Unfortunately for my peace of mind, her enthusiasm for my wellbeing appealed.

  Beauty plus brains plus interest in my wellbeing, even in a doctor-to-patient capacity, made me wish she’d take interest in other ways. I wouldn’t ask that of her, but I’d do the next best thing: I’d find some way to repay her kindness, and I’d work hard to ensure she never discovered I was at high risk of liking her as more than just my doctor.

  Her severe case of royalty should’ve ensured I had no interest in her. I’d have to put some thought into why I hadn’t been deterred.

  She couldn’t get any more royal even if she tried.

  Determined to maintain my professionalism, I said, “I hadn’t known magical exertion could cause muscular atrophy or require physical therapy. I’d always thought it was a live or die sort of thing.”

  “Obviously, this is your first tango with true talent exertion. That’s not a bad thing; you probably just handed over the victims to the hospitals for treatment, right?”

  I nodded. “That’s right. We were taught the symptoms in case we needed to be treated for it, too. My guess about muscular atrophy is correct?”

  “Yes, you’re suffering from muscular atrophy. That explains why you reported your symptoms. That was smart of you, by the way. It guaranteed you got me to treat you. Someone else wouldn’t have done as good of a job with your recovery. Anyway, muscular atrophy can happen with talent exertion cases. In your specific case, once you ran out of your readily accessible magic, your body pillaged available resources. Fortunately, your magic went for your muscle mass first. I’ve seen much worse cases. You didn’t suffer any permanent organ damage, which really helped your overall prognosis. But you’ll have to rebuild your muscle mass, which is something I can’t force with magic. What I can do is help with the fatigue you’re experiencing now—and that will be ten times worse when you’re exercising. I’ll also be able to repair the tears associated with exercise and otherwise speed how long it takes you to get back to your prime. You’ll be in peak condition within a month.”

  “You’re going to insist I stay in Maine until I’m back in peak condition,” I guessed.

  She smiled. “I do enjoy when my patients understand the reality of the situation. It’ll give Kevin extra time to convince you to stick around.”

  “Assuming we’re not bonded.”

  “If we are, it’s a freakishly subtle bond. If you want to be bonded, you’ll have to toe the line a little closer without crossing it.”

  One day, long after I put the princess behind me, I’d have to ask a psychologist what it said about me that I wasn’t necessarily against the idea of testing my luck to be a permanent part of Melody’s life. It likely made me a lunatic—or desperate for the company of an intelligent, beautiful woman.

  Like most men, I had issues when a beautiful, smart woman crossed my path.

  I really couldn’t afford to think of Melody as anything other than my doctor. To cover my wayward thoughts, I asked, “Can I pass on that?”

  “That’s a good idea. While I’d work on you again as needed, I much prefer when people don’t need me.”

  I bet. “I guess even joking about the subject is a little off, isn’t it?”

  Dismissing my concerns with a wave of her hand, she sat on the edge of the bed. “We all crack jokes about it from time to time, especially those of us who haven’t bonded yet. You’ll hear it a lot over the next few weeks, especially if my younger sisters get a hold of you.”

  If her sisters were anything like Melody, I’d be in a lot of trouble. “And your older siblings are bonded?”

  “Yes, they are. My brothers and a sister. Carl is bonded to a firefighter. Peter is bonded to a teacher
. Peter is next in line, Carl is after him, then it’s me. I have an older sister, but she isn’t in the line of succession; while she’s strong enough to bond, she opted against being in the succession.”

  “Then your uncle is next after you.”

  She nodded.

  “And let me guess. Your uncle wants the throne.”

  “Of course he does. He’s an asshole. He’s very resentful he wasn’t chosen to be the king. Maine picks the most qualified for the throne over birth order, with a preference for someone who has formed a bond. That’s the best way to judge general strength of a talent and the skill to use it well. The ability to rule is also a factor. When my father bonded with my mother, my grandfather felt he would be the better choice. My grandfather was correct. My father doesn’t practice much medicine nowadays, but he will help handle trauma cases because he has superior skills with hemorrhaging. He’s also exceptional at treating any disease that causes hemorrhaging. He’ll often go to Congo or other kingdoms in Africa to help combat ebola cases. Our talent is useful for that; we can protect ourselves from infection unlike standard doctors and nurses.”

  I frowned, taking a few moments to digest her explanations. I found the information about their ability to combat ebola particularly intriguing.

  I had a rather disturbing love affair with movies dealing with contagious diseases, especially ebola. Once again finding myself disturbed by my own thoughts, I forced my attention back to the serious problem of Melody’s uncle. “Would your uncle actually do anything to hurt you or your brothers?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  “So, let’s say you claimed you were bonded to me. What would be the odds of him trying to get rid of me?”

  “Higher than I like,” she admitted. “That’s part of why I’d prefer if I didn’t have a bond. Until I bond, he won’t perceive me as much of a threat—and it’ll be that much harder for him to act. If I bond and he targets my bond, and it can be proved he did so…”

  Melody sighed, and she shrugged.