Special Deceptions (The Coursodon Dimension Book 5)

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Special Deceptions (The Coursodon Dimension Book 5) Page 13

by M. L. Ryan


  “Yes,” Uncle Fry agreed. “If they hadn’t been manipulated, they’d both be under arrest.”

  “I hope they don’t get fired because of this. Boklym is apparently quite good at messing with people’s minds.”

  “Unfortunately,” Uncle Fry conceded, “I have no say. That is up to the owners of the company for which they work. If nothing else, it shows a lack of training. Tactile compelling is something every guard should be attuned to.”

  The aunt, who looked like she made a habit of sucking on lemon wedges, had said nothing all evening and gave only a curt nod when we were first introduced. Apparently, the current topic was too juicy to keep silent any longer.

  “In Surjjestri, no royal female would ever be alone with a man who was not a family member.” She made the statement with such conviction that, at first, I thought she was kidding.

  “Luckily,” I joked, “I’m just a royal-to-be.”

  Under her breath, she muttered, “And maybe soon, a royal-not-to-be.”

  The queen’s cheeks flushed, and she tried to cover for her aunt’s boorishness with a curt, “Times have changed since you were young. No one requires a chaperone these days.”

  Uncle Fry took a decidedly more direct approach. “Promiglyjixinica,” he warned, glowering at the sullen woman. “I will not tolerate such rude behavior. If you cannot keep a civil tongue, then please say nothing.”

  Oh, right, Promiglyjixinica. No wonder I’d forgotten. Doesn’t anyone around here name their children Ann or Bob? Regardless of my trouble with the tongue-tying Courso names, Aunt Prom-whatever-the-rest-was seemed properly chastised, if shutting up and looking off into the distance was her way of showing regret. So that’s why she was so quiet. Probably never utters anything nice and stays mute to avoid the king’s wrath. I almost wished I hadn’t transformed earlier; the tat combined with talk of my shocking behavior might have given her a coronary.

  I mouthed a silent, “Thank you,” to Uncle Fry, who nodded in return. Unfortunately, Aunt Prune Face was likely not the only critic I’d encounter, and unless the king was prepared to follow me around and slap down every naysayer, I needed to get used to disparaging glances and remarks.

  A familiar voice reverberated from the entrance to the dining area. “Nicely done, Your Majesty. One can never be too strict with Promiglyjixinica.”

  “Sebastian!” I ran to him and threw myself into his arms. “I’m so glad to see you,” I murmured into his broad chest.

  He patted my back. “Well, my dear, I, too, have missed you. If Alexander had hinted this was the greeting I would receive, I would not have tried to get out of the assignment.”

  So Sebastian was the Xyzok Alex sent. “I thought you were supposed to arrive in the morning.”

  “I made arrangements to get here sooner.” He leaned down and whispered, “I thought you might need some moral support.”

  I started to answer, “No shit,” but stopped myself just in time. “Thanks, I feel so much better now that you’re here.”

  Sebastian placed his hands on his chest. “Be still my beating heart. How I have longed to hear you utter those words,” he jested.

  I slapped at him playfully, and then escorted him to the table. He bowed to both the king and queen, grinned at Tannis, and glowered at Aunt Nasty before taking an empty seat.

  “Have you eaten?” Sylzinia inquired, gesturing to one of the staff to set a place for the new arrival.

  “I have, thank you, but I would be a fool to turn down food prepared by your palace chefs. Perhaps just dessert and some of your fine Jjestrian red?”

  Sylzinia instructed a servant to bring more cake, had another pour wine, and then beamed at Sebastian. Yep, one more woman under his spell, I observed. Aunt Sourpuss seemed immune to his charms; she scooted her chair as far away from his as possible and tried her best to ignore him entirely. Her discomfort made me all warm and fuzzy inside—childish, but, hey, I never claimed to be perfect. Still, I wasn’t thrilled she was a member of the small, Not-Made-to-Swoon-by-Sebastian-Kess Club. So far, I knew of only a few women able to withstand his allure: Tannis, Alex’s mother, the Xyzok chief, Karttyx, Deputy Cunningham, and me. All no nonsense, resilient, and spirited. Adding Aunt Opinionated to the list irked me, as I could see nothing about her that resembled any of us, unless one added stubborn to the list. Perhaps she wasn’t actually resistant, I considered. Maybe he didn’t find her worthy of unleashing his dazzling personality, thus excluding her from the exclusive company of badass broads.

  Content I had nothing in common with Sylzinia’s irritating relation, my ability to engage in normal conversation returned. “How’s Rachel?”

  A euphoric smile blossomed across Sebastian’s handsome face. “Gorgeous, brilliant, irresistible,” he gushed. “I would only leave my darling to aid you, my dear. Incidentally,” he added, “she sends her best.”

  “I appreciate your sacrifice on my behalf,” I teased, but in truth, I understood his dilemma. Since declaring his undying love for my beautiful best friend, he promised to limit their time spent away from one another. As a human, Rachel wasn’t able to cross the interdimensional plane, so when Sebastian needed to be in Courso, he couldn’t take her along. The arrangement wasn’t a huge problem because the Xyzok were responsible for Courso-on-Human crimes and spent the majority of their time in the human dimension. Even when attending the myriad of services for Kyzal, each night Sebastian dutifully returned to Tucson to be with his beloved. I suspected his yearlong vow of celibacy while waiting for the opportunity to sweep Rachel off her Louboutin-clad feet had something to do with his insistence they never sleep apart now that they were a couple, but who was I to judge.

  Sebastian spent the better part of an hour detailing how he planned to investigate and locate Boklym, while the king gently reminded him that bringing Boklym to justice should not include torture or death. Sebastian acted as though he was well aware of his legal limitations, but I knew had Uncle Fry not repeated these admonitions, Sebastian would have drawn and quartered his prey and feigned ignorance afterward.

  Happily, Aunt Dismal found their banter unappealing, and she excused herself, probably to go find a puppy to kick. I actually tuned them out after a few minutes, talking to Tannis and Sylzinia instead. Not that I wasn’t interested in Sebastian’s task, but I was tired of thinking about the fiasco.

  As the party broke up, Sebastian pulled me aside. “I will accompany you to your suite; you can regale me with every detail of your contacts with that doflitoj.”

  I smiled. “That’s exactly what Alex called him.”

  “It is the most appropriate description of the degenerate transgressor,” he seethed.

  “I like to refer to him as that son-of-a-bitch fuckwad.”

  He raised one imperious brow. “Also appropriate, but requires the use of more energy than he is worth.”

  I’d rather French kiss a snapping turtle than repeat the particulars of my misfortunes one more time, but I knew to do his job, Sebastian needed to interrogate me. “Fine, I’ll tell you everything, but only if there is liquor involved.”

  He grinned mischievously. “Alexander anticipated your need for more tequila and sent me with a bottle of Barrique de Ponciano Porfidio Añejo.”

  “The grotesquely expensive stuff they only made three thousand bottles of?”

  “One and the same.”

  “No wonder I’m in love with the guy,” I declared, ushering Sebastian toward the section of the palace where my rooms were located.

  “He is also sending another gift; Ulut should arrive tomorrow.”

  It would be nice to see my once-furry pal and have another friendly face around. “That’s great; is he going to help with your investigation?”

  “No, Alexander wants him to keep an eye on you and Tannis.” We walked past a ghrilyx-clad sentry, and Sebastian added gruffly, “He feels the King’s Guard is not up to the task—an assertion with which I heartily agree.”

  I glanced back at the guard; h
is eyes narrowed ever so slightly in response to Sebastian’s reproach. “You didn’t have to say that so loud,” I challenged. “They weren’t responsible for what happened last night. They weren’t even there.”

  “Yes, Alexander mentioned that,” he said smoothly. “It was completely irresponsible to relinquish their responsibilities. A bodyguard cannot guard one’s body when he is not in close proximity to the body he is supposed to guard.”

  I stopped and placed my hands on my hips. “It’s not like anyone perceived Boklym as a threat, and the only reason the King’s Guards were babysitting me at all was to stop nuisance attention from the public. Boklym’s hired guys should have been able to handle that.”

  “Proper protectors would not have allowed the request to trump their better judgement. The Royal Guards of Alenquai would likely never make that mistake. And you should have known better as well. Letting unknown men take charge of your safety,” he chided, shaking his head.

  “You should be blaming Boklym, not the guards or me.”

  “My instruction has been flawless,” he countered, assuming a defiant stance similar to mine. “You, on the other hand, did not pay adequate attention. Had you done so, you would have recognized the arcane influences on your emotions long before you found yourself in such a compromising situation.”

  “I can’t be expected to know years of tactics in only a few months,” I argued, throwing my hands into the air. “I think I did pretty well, all things considered.” I stomped away, fuming as I entered the courtyard.

  “You are angry because you know I am correct,” he called from a discreet distance behind me.

  “No,” I challenged over my shoulder. “I’m angry because you are a brainless, ass-kissing motherfucker with a hamster’s genitalia.”

  He chuckled. “None of those epithets apply to me, my dear. Nevertheless, I am the brainless, ass-kissing motherfucker with a hamster’s genitalia who will discover those responsible for this cluster fuck.”

  I turned and stared. “Did you just use a string of swear words? Isn’t that a sign of substandard vocabulary utilized only when an argument is lost?”

  The corners of his mouth lifted into a sly grin. “That is true only when you use profanity. When I employ it in conversation, it is simply ironic.”

  So much for the heartwarming reunion. Two hours together and we’re already at each other’s throat.

  “That tequila better be damn fine,” I mumbled.

  13

  Whatever force of personality he possessed that made most women giddy in his presence didn’t work on me, but somehow, I could never stay mad at him for very long. By the time we’d returned to the suite, and I’d washed my face and changed into sweats, my irritation towards Sebastian had waned. When anyone else ticked me off, I could hold a grudge for a long, long time. Like Hatfield and McCoy long. I still hadn’t forgiven a fifth grade classmate for making fun of me when, while reading a particularly interesting passage in some teen-angst mystery novel while on my way to class, I mistakenly walked into the boy’s bathroom. Sebastian had humiliated and vexed me more times and with greater aplomb than Jenny Hargrove, but without the long-simmering ill will. Maybe I wasn’t as unaffected by his charms as I liked to believe.

  Well into the night, Sebastian grilled me about Boklym while I sipped the new, absurdly expensive tequila and he downed a bottle of scotch I hadn’t yet gifted to Uncle Fry. I’d saved it in case Pixie needed more incentive to be cooperative, but the sparkle in Sebastian’s eyes when he gazed at the twenty-five-year-old single malt made me know I’d made the right choice.

  Bolstered by the alcohol, I asked him if he thought Alex’s mother might be involved. He steepled his fingers together, considering my question for what seemed like forever.

  “I can see why you suspect her,” he conceded finally, his tone measured. “However, I would be shocked if she is the perpetrator.”

  “That’s just what Alex and Tannis thought,” I griped. “They think she’d never do anything that devious.”

  “It is not that she is incapable of this sort of chicanery, but if she wanted to get rid of you, she would do so more directly.”

  “They said that, too,” I admitted, pouring myself another shot of golden nirvana. “I just can’t fathom who else would want to discredit me. Well, Ryxjat can’t stand me, but I can’t believe he’d go so far without her say-so, or at least her tacit approval.”

  “Why do you believe he harbors animosity towards you?”

  “He treats me like I’m worthless and stupid. And he stares at me when he thinks I’m not looking.”

  “Ryxjat treats everyone like that,” he argued. “He’s not even all that pleasant to the queen.”

  “Why does she put up with him?”

  Sebastian shrugged. “He is extremely good at his job. I suppose that trumps a convivial personality. In any case,” he continued. “While I may doubt Rexa had a hand in this, I cannot exclude anyone until I know all the facts. That also does not eliminate the possibility that Boklym acted alone.”

  Right; like Lee Harvey Oswald. “I don’t understand why you, of all people, aren’t more suspicious of Alex’s mother. It’s obvious you don’t get along.”

  “And I do not comprehend why you cling so tenaciously to this hypothesis. Has the queen given you reason to believe she despises you so?”

  “I just get a weird vibe from her,” I admitted, downing the shot.

  He lifted one brow. “She is a queen; what do you expect? Look,” he continued, resting his tumbler on an end table. “I knew her before she ascended the throne, and we have our… differences. She can be headstrong and opinionated. However, you need to keep an open mind, just as my history with her should not cloud my own judgement.”

  Now that got my attention. They had a history? “You mean when Alex was living and training with you when he was a kid?”

  “That and a bit more,” he stated cryptically.

  I grabbed the scotch and topped off his glass because a content Sebastian usually equaled a talkative one. “Okay, Kess. Spill,” I commanded, settling into the deep sofa cushions. No sense being uncomfortable when Sebastian revealed the origins of the animosity between Alex’s mom and himself.

  “As a young Xyzok, I was assigned to an elite group advising Rexa’s father. Consequently, I spent a great deal of time in the palace. It was then that I first met the future queen.”

  I never knew Sebastian counseled a king, but I refrained from asking about his previous duty. “What was she like back then?” I inquired, hoping to keep him engaged and on track.

  “Much like she is today: strong-willed, responsible, and devoted to the realm. Perhaps a touch less reserved. Our interactions were all rather formal and businesslike, as she often sat in on meetings between my team and the king.”

  I treated myself to another round of tequila. “Let me guess—you tried to make your relationship less professional and she shot you down?”

  Sebastian smirked. “Hardly. She was the daughter of my sovereign and supreme ruler. It would have been highly improper for me to attempt to seduce her. No, it was rather the other way around. One night, I found her waiting for me in my bed.”

  I’d just taken a mouthful of my drink, and I actually spit it across the couch. “You’re shitting me, right?” I sputtered, trying to dab several hundred dollars’ worth of booze off the leather with a napkin.

  He raised a single eyebrow in response and gestured that I’d missed some dribble on my chin.

  Rather than wipe it away, I used my tongue so not to waste any more than I already had. “Okay, you refused, and that’s why she hates you.” I had a difficult time imagining Alex’s mother throwing herself at anyone, but I could completely understand why she’d hold a grudge if he turned her down.

  “I did hesitate, but she presented me with a compelling argument. She was soon to be married and wanted to…”

  “Oh my god,” I groaned. “She wanted you to deflower her?”


  He waved his glass at me dismissively. “Of course not—she was older than I was and no virgin. However, hers was an arranged marriage, and while she intended to remain faithful to Wyx, she wanted to experience a virtuoso instead of the inexpert boys with whom she previously slept. My prowess, renowned even in my youth, spurred her to choose me.”

  Mister humble. “So, what happened?” I asked, not certain I really wanted the answer, and desperately hoping there weren’t any actual spurs involved.

  “Well, she was quite lovely, and I did not want to appear ungentlemanly. After all, she was lying unclothed under the covers. I accepted her offer.”

  Ick. It was bad enough thinking my future mother-in-law had it in for me; now I found out Sebastian had it in her. At her request. For comparison purposes. Still, it didn’t clear up why she seemed to despise him.

  My face scrunched with awkwardness, I leaned toward him and asked, “You didn’t, you know, fail to launch?”

  He offered a bemused grin. “My dear, never in my life have the boosters fired unsuccessfully. I gave her my finest, which I must say, is superb.”

  I chose to ignore his swollen head, although apparently, Rexa hadn’t been so lucky. “Then what’s the problem between you two?”

  “I’m not entirely certain what the source of her animosity towards me is,” he said with a shrug. “She wanted a one-time, mind-altering liaison and I provided it. I suspect, despite her logical approach to enjoying a superior sexual encounter prior to matrimony, once our night of passion ended, she realized we would still encounter one another.”

  “So, she’s just embarrassed?” God knows I’d be, if I were in her situation.

  “Or she secretly longs for me.”

  “You don’t really believe that?” I challenged. “I don’t care how fantastic you think you are, after a hundred and fifty years, no woman would still dream of doing the mattress mambo with you.”

  “That is because you have not had the pleasure of experiencing my lovemaking.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You are such an arrogant bastard.”

 

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