Every time the prince opened his mouth, I worried even more. “What kind of hysterics are we talking about here? Is Melody all right?”
“She immediately graduated from shock to spewing various threats about how she’d personally dismantle anyone who tried to hurt you,” William replied, shaking his head. “I would’ve preferred traditional hysterics. Crying, for some reason, seems a lot safer than an infuriated woman on a mission to murder.”
Queen Jessica of Texas leveled a glare at Geoff, who joined us in the room. “Murder missions can be so entertaining, but they’re very disappointing when you are barred from attending them or someone gets to the target first.”
Geoff smiled. “I would apologize, but then I would be lying, and you dislike when I lie to you.”
“Unfortunately, he’s telling the truth,” William muttered. “I’m still not giving Geoff back, Jessica.”
“But Pat keeps whining Geoff’s gone. I had no idea Pat would whine so much about Geoff moving to Montana.”
“He just worries about you,” Geoff replied. “He’s less whining I’m gone and more whining that the detail shifted and it’s not exactly how he wants. He’ll never get over it, so just pretend he’s not whining. It’ll be better for your blood pressure.”
“He could try worrying less for once in his life!”
Everyone in the room stared at Queen Jessica with varying expressions of disbelief.
I decided to give my legs a test drive and discovered that I’d emerged from being poisoned in better shape than I thought. While I felt weak, my legs obeyed, and I even held some confidence I could get to where I needed to go without an intervention. Prince Adam retrieved a duffel bag from the hallway and offered it to me. I escaped to the room’s bathroom while Queen Jessica defended her absurd belief her doting husband might go a day without worrying about her in some form or another.
I’d have to do some close studying of King Patrick of Texas. He was obviously doing something right.
Given a choice, I would’ve worn something other than slacks and a dress shirt, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and the clothing beat wearing the hospital gown. I even snuck a quick shower, which helped me reboot my talent and regain some control over my wayward ice. I was keenly aware of the man I’d killed as a cold, slimy presence.
The sooner I left, the happier I’d be.
In the time it’d taken me to change clothes and feel somewhat clean, the royals had moved on from teasing the Texan queen to figuring out how they’d remove the body.
My magic insisted on thwarting even the flameweaver’s magic, much to my amusement.
“Can you do something about this?” Prince Ian complained. “I can melt right up to this point, after which your magic tells me to go fuck off.”
I concentrated where my ice adhered to the floor, and with a little effort, shaped it so the body could be moved without melting everywhere. Then, I narrowed my eyes, holding my hand close to the ice still enveloping him.
According to my skin, my ice had gone far below the freezing point. I’d seen liquid nitrogen experiments where the substance could freeze anything to the shattering point.
I wondered if my ice compared.
“Mind moving a minute?” I gestured in the direction of the door.
The royals moved, as did the RPS agents.
I coated my hand in a shield of water not even my ice would freeze, placed my hand at the top of my ice statue, and shoved. The body fell, and as I suspected, broke apart. Even his bones shattered, and my brows raised. “My talent really, really didn’t like that man.”
As though satisfied there was zero chance Melody’s uncle would be coming back from the dead, my ice began to melt, although, to my relief, it left a thin coating over the pieces. I reinforced that, ensuring the body wouldn’t leave a huge mess on the floor.
Ian raised his hand. “I vote we leave Melody’s protection to Jack. I’m not sure there’s an RPS agent who could be this effective at the swift death of an assailant.”
“No,” Alfred and Geoff chorused, as did several men and a woman in the hallway.
“I’m with the sensible RPS agents,” I announced. “Also, I’m sorry about your books, William.”
“I have waveweavers underfoot at alarming intervals. This is a common problem. I’ll just get new ones, so don’t worry about it.”
I considered Montana’s king. “Are you sure you don’t need to be rescued?”
“I’m sure, but thank you for the offer. I can’t promise you a complete escape from the paperwork, but the room next door is much… cleaner.”
I stepped around the body. “He’s going to cause me more paperwork, isn’t he?”
“Did you kill him in self-defense?”
“Well, yes. Of course.”
“It’ll be fine. I can be useful for things like this, as I can verify you’re not lying—and I gave you an order to kill him if he came calling. I might get scolded, but you don’t have to worry about that. Alfred, please go sit down before you give me a heart attack. If I don’t return you to Mackenzie in as close to pristine condition as possible, she’ll kill me.”
“She won’t kill you, Your Majesty. She’ll just make you suffer for a while.”
His Royal Majesty of Montana sighed.
Escaping the hospital involved convincing a royal physician I wouldn’t be a menace to anyone who looked at me and Melody wrong, and I confessed I’d had my proper suppressors stolen and replaced with duds to make sure I would have my magic at my disposal. That earned me angry glares from every royal in attendance. Queen Jessica fished a set of suppressors out of her purse and clapped them onto my wrists.
“I will shock you into next week if you even think about taking those off until you have your proper talent evaluation, Mr. Alders,” the queen hissed.
“Okay.” I gulped, and eyed the queen warily.
“She won’t eat you, Jack. She just freaks out when a waveweaver flares because she tries to flood entire kingdoms when she loses control of her talent. Fortunately, she’s fairly tapped out from dealing with a storm recently, so we’re safe from her temper. Adam, however, does not have his mother’s excuse, and I’m not going to be very happy with him if he misplaces his suppressors again.”
Prince Adam of Texas gulped, reached into his jacket pocket, and held up a set of suppressors.
“Good boy. Go figure out where that rascal of a daughter of mine went, would you? I swear, she views hospitals as mazes for her amusement. With my luck, she’s interrogating some young male nurse about his sexual health and asking if he has any sons that might be suitable for her sisters. I’ve had little luck convincing Mireya that her sisters don’t need to be worrying about suitors yet. I’m going to have enough problems keeping the boys at bay when they grow up. Mireya does not need to hurry the process up. Really.”
“She’s eating junk food in the hospital cafeteria, where you won’t catch her doing it.”
William sighed. “Of course she is. I tell her she’s had enough chocolate for one day once, and she starts sneaking chocolate like she’s afraid I’ll never allow it back in the castle.”
“Peanut butter cups this time.”
Montana’s king sighed and rubbed his temple. “That girl’s going to be itching out of her skin by dinner. While I’m glad she didn’t develop an aversion to cold like Mackenzie, her reaction to peanuts and tertiary butylhydroquinone might drive me to madness.”
“Her reaction to what?” I asked.
“It’s a preservative. She’s addicted to peanut butter cups, which contains it. When she turned thirteen, she picked up her mother’s tendency to bleed off excess magic through allergic-style reactions to things. Apparently, her talent decided her favorite candies would become her bane. Good luck, Adam. You’re going to need it—and have your blood pressure checked before bed. I know mine will be spiking.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “She’ll be fine. She itches. She’s not like her mom.”
“You
can repeat that a thousand times, and I will refuse to listen to you,” William said, wrinkling his nose. “Please try to impress upon her she either needs to do her exercises properly or stop eating candy with peanuts in it. Or at least have the cups made at the castle so she doesn’t have that damned preservative in it!”
“I can’t work miracles. Stop asking me to work miracles.”
Jessica laughed, caught her son by the ear, and dragged him towards the examination room’s door. “I’ll go fetch Mireya and keep an eye on her. If she has a reaction, we’re in a hospital. It’ll be fine. Stop being a worrywart. You’re almost as bad as Pat.”
“I see I have to work harder to match Pat’s example.”
“You need to not drive Mackenzie even crazier than she already is, thank you. Geoff, shock him if he gets any dumb ideas.”
The RPS agent chuckled.
“That threat worries me because Geoff will do it.”
“I know. That’s why I said that.” The Texan queen hauled her son into the hallway.
“Can I please be discharged?” I asked the royal physician, who was busy poking and prodding at Alfred, who had far more patience with the process than I did.
“I’m not discharging you. I’m transferring you to the castle so the hospital won’t have to put up with either one of you anymore. I can handle your care with what I have at the castle. Alfred, I’ll be expecting you to take it easy until I say otherwise. I will get locking suppressors and make you wear them if you try to test your luck.”
Alfred’s sigh made me believe the man had meant to test his luck at the first opportunity.
“My castle is going to be like an asylum but worse. I’m not allowed to lock any of the patients in padded rooms for their own safety.”
Prince Ian of New York tossed his head back and laughed. “Don’t look so worried, Jack. I’ll protect you. His Royal Majesty of Montana here cleverly asked me if I’d come make friends with you so my head of detail could help Geoff for the meanwhile, and I’m looking forward to the receiving the bribes I was offered.”
“I actually called you because my wife, much to my dismay, happens to be a New Yorker, too. It made sense. Mostly. It seemed like a good idea when I pitched it, but honestly, I’m not so sure now.”
Ian winked at Montana’s king. “Admit it, Your Majesty. You love me.”
“You give me a headache, but my horses like you, so I find myself incapable of actually disliking you.”
Something about the king’s words gave me an odd feeling, and I frowned. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”
William’s brows shot up, and then his eyes narrowed. “I was only slightly fibbing.”
“I wasn’t giving him a headache right then,” Ian said. “Want me to run him through a test to see if he’s a truth seer, William?”
“Sorry, Jack—but if you are, we need to know. That sort of talent can drive a man mad when it awakens, and the last thing Melody needs is for you to be thinking you’ve lost your mind because you weren’t aware you’re a truth detector. For your sake, I hope you aren’t. There are few talents quite as inconvenient as knowing every little white lie someone tells you.”
I pointed at the suppressors I was wearing. “But I’m wearing a suppressor.”
“That only dampens waveweaving talents, Jack. It’s a specialty suppressor, so if you have any other talents, they’d be able to shine. But it’s not uncommon for strong talents to bury weaker ones. Who knows? Maybe you’ll luck out, and beneath all that impressive, flashy magic, you’ll have something useful—like empathy. But then again, it wouldn’t surprise me if you or Melody naturally developed it anyway.” William patted my shoulder. “We’ll do an evaluation while you’re wearing Jessica’s suppressors, and I’ll put in an order for a set of your own. You’ll need them, anyway. Those with lethal talents need to have them, and you’ve proven your talent is lethal. It’s a pain in the ass, but you’ll get used to it.”
I had my doubts, but I wouldn’t argue with him over it. I’d save my breath for when Melody got a hold of me, and I had to explain I’d killed her uncle with minimal remorse.
I hated the thought I’d ended a life, but I was glad the man was dead and wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The idea I might have unidentified talents drove everyone into a frenzy, and while I made it to the castle, a herd of overenthusiastic royals insisted on performing acts of cruel and unusual punishment on me to see what would happen. The test took place in one of the palace’s workout rooms, one that had been cleared of most equipment. The exercise bike in the corner intimidated me. Why leave the exercise bike while the rest had been hauled off for the tests?
What were they planning to do with the exercise bike?
Everything went as expected until Geoff took a turn with his talent, attempting to shock me with his lightningweaving abilities.
Instead of enduring the shock of my life, nothing happened.
I’d never seen a man look so disgusted in my life.
“Geoff?” William asked.
“He just grounded me.”
With a grin, William clasped my hand and gave an enthusiastic shake. “I never thought I’d see the day someone other than my wife would finally flummox Geoff. He hates when he can’t use his talent on people. Any idea what type of talent?”
“Not a clue. He failed all the earthweaving tests, and he failed the lightningweaving ones, too. Other talents work on him, so he can’t be a generic nullifier. He could be a specialized nullifier, or he could have just really not wanted to be electrocuted, which activated the talent. If that’s the case, it could be a useful defense tool, but only if he knew something painful was about to hit him. It could’ve been a fluke, but I doubt that. I was able to shock him before. It could be like Mackenzie’s talent; hers will shut off when she’s near death long enough during life-saving treatments.”
Great. I had faced enough mysteries for a lifetime already. “It’s bad enough I’m an illuminator. I don’t want to be a something else,” I complained.
At least my illumination talent explained why I might have a low-grade truth sensing talent. Illumination came in many branches, although that I could manifest light and potentially hear the truth startled the evaluators. Most illuminists who could sense the truth couldn’t create any light.
The tests made sure I couldn’t see Melody; she hadn’t taken the news she’d be excluded from the testing session well. By not well, I meant everyone had laughed over her rather impressive temper tantrum. According to Geoff, she was still erupting in the general privacy of her suite while Alfred kept an eye on her.
I didn’t understand what the problem was, but the testing process left me edgy and ready to pitch a fit, too.
Everyone watched me with interest, and Geoff smirked, lifted his hand to his ear, and asked, “How is Her Royal Highness’s mood, Alfred?”
The answer made the RPS agent laugh.
“At the rate we’re going, any couple with any sense of loyalty is going to be developing empathy talents of some sort. She’s crankier than a hive of hornets, and you’re not looking much better, Jack. If it’d just been her cranky, I wouldn’t think twice over it, but you’re not the type to lose your cool unless it’s important. And we’ve barely made you flinch during these tests, which you yourself admit are important.”
I thought about it before shrugging. “I have this urge to smack someone if it makes the testing end sooner. I’m man enough to admit it.”
“What do you think, Your Majesty?”
William laughed. “Why are you asking me? Ask Alfred. He’s the one who put up with me and my bad moods for years.”
Geoff sighed but lifted his hand to his ear and said, “You may as well bring her over. We’re not going to make any progress with the angry hornet upsetting our test subject.”
“Well, at least you’re honest that I’m a test subject.”
“Don’t worry. I’m going to ask
everyone in the room to start lying to you next to see what happens.”
“I’m an ugly woman,” His Royal Majesty of Montana announced.
Everyone stared at him, and my head went blank at the utter wrongness of his statement.
Geoff waved his hand in front of my face. “I know that statement was absurd, but you look like he slapped you across the face.”
“He said that with a straight face,” I spluttered.
Everyone, except Montana’s king, burst into laughter.
“My wife is twenty years younger than I am,” Geoff said.
I couldn’t imagine Geoff marrying the equivalent of a child, and I shot him a puzzled look.
“I think he’s just confused now.” William laughed. “His wife’s a year older than him, and she loves gloating over her conquest of such an able RPS agent. She’s a delight. You’ll love her.”
Once again, something about the king’s words nagged at me, and I turned my glare to him. “What part of that was a lie?”
“She’s not a year older than me. He doesn’t think she’s a delight, either. He thinks she’s an evil dictator, and he keeps trying to find ways to free me from her clutches. She acts like an evil dictator because she enjoys taunting him.”
I wanted to pull out my hair, as I was fairly certain Geoff was yanking on my chain, too. “You, too!”
“I don’t look for ways to free him from her clutches. I try to find ways to give him more time off work to spend with her, and the last time I tried, she came over and put me in my place. With a stick.”
I scowled, considering his words. “She didn’t use a stick, did she?”
“It was actually a baseball bat, and she, fortunately, opted against hitting me with it. She poked Geoff in the ribs, though, and demanded to know why he was trying to be a slacker at work. Then she swore the RPS needed to hire her to make sure her lazy husband did his job properly.”
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