Prince of Fools

by Nancy Gideon

  When Rico went up to the bar to call for another round, Colin and Turow sat warily in the midst of their one-time enemies, sharing their uncertainty as desperation forced them together. Cats in a bag over a clothesline, Silas had told Colin, clawing and killing one another in an effort to escape the same trap, when all could survive if peace prevailed amongst them.

  This was the moment when they’d decide trust and survival were better than suspicion and extinction. And Rico, the most unlikely of them all, had coaxed them all to the same table.

  Colin glanced toward the bar, wanting to share that irony with his brother.

  But Rico was gone.

  Chapter 27

  “He’s still alive.”

  Rico looked to the dock hand he knew only as Twitch, who’d edged up next to him at the bar. “Who’s alive?”

  “Her brother.”

  The bottom fell out of Rico’s belly. “What are you talking about?”

  “Preacher asked me to come find you.”

  “You lie!” Rico snarled low and dark, trying not to draw any attention from those around them. “He couldn’t tell you a damned thing the way his head was caved in.”

  “He’s in a bad, bad way all right, and he ain’t gonna survive the night where he be now if you don’t come with me.”

  “Where is he?”

  “I’ll take you. Jus’ you.”

  Rico glanced back toward the tables where Tibideaux had his audience captivated by his impassioned speech.

  “An’ he said you’d pay me well.”

  Now that sounded like Auguste. Was there a chance he’d survived? Could he afford to dismiss it if there was even a whisper of that possibility? She’d forgiven him once. Would she if he didn’t make every effort to discover the truth? He couldn’t lie to her for shit. She’d see the guilt all over his face if he didn’t make sure.

  He had no cash on him. Cursing with quiet ferocity, he pulled one of the diamonds from his ear. Twitch stared, round-eyed, as it glittered in his callused palm.

  “That real?”

  “As real as my promise that you’ll be dead if you’re lying.”

  Work-worn fingers closed tight over his treasure. “I’ll meet you out back.”

  As he turned, Rico gripped his elbow tight. “I don’t think so. We’ll walk out the way you came in. Head for the bathrooms then duck out front.”

  Rico tried to catch his brothers’ attention but they were caught up in Tibideaux’s rhetoric, not looking his way. Just as well. If he was being played for a fool, no sense in all of them going down for it. And because he wasn’t as careless as he once had been, he took a moment to turn on the GPS on his phone. Just in case.

  * * * * *

  A cab took them to where he’d parked his car and from there, Rico followed Twitch’s directions. A bad feeling just kept sinking deeper as he recognized the route they’d taken the morning they’d found Poteet. Was Donny using Auguste to trap him this time? And him more the fool for stepping right into it?

  The same abandoned town. The same smell of rot and death. He pulled in-between two ramshackle buildings and cut the motor.

  “Where is he?”

  “On the next block. An old flop house, on the second floor. I was in the room next door. The rain drove me inside while I was on my patrol. I only meant to wait it out. I heard dem come in and saw dey was carrying poor ole Preacher all wrapped up and bloody. So, I hid, and when I gots the chance, I snuck in to see him. He tole me to find you, that you’d come for him ʹcuz you owed him.”

  Rico winced at that. “How many guards?”

  “Jus’ one. Not like Preach be any threat to dem, all stove up like he is.”

  “Where are the rest of them?”

  “They be at a church end of the street. Only building in decent shape, and nothing in it to steal.”

  “Any idea how many of them there are?”

  “I only seen a couple at a time go in and out, but inside, there might be more.” When Rico opened the driver’s door, Twitch grabbed his arm. “I ain’t no hero. I ain’t going with you.”

  “Then sit tight. If I’m not back in ten minutes, you drive back into the city, find my brothers, give them that earring and tell them what you told me. They’ll give you what it’s worth and more.”

  He looked unconvinced. “What if they think I took that sparkler off you when you was dead?”

  “Tell them the Prince of Fools sent you. They’ll believe you. Wait ten. If I can get to Gus, I should be back by then. If I’m not, they probably have me, or I’m dead and my brothers will want to avenge me. And if you’re thinking of just running, one of us will find you, and you’ll wish you’d been smarter.”

  With that, Rico slipped out of the vehicle and started sprinting down the street, blending with the shadows. He listened, but didn’t hear his engine roar to life the second he was out of sight. That was something anyway.

  No visible signs of life outside or within the boarding house. Rico crouched behind a heap of roadside trash that would never be collected. Caution stilled his need to rush in. Instead, he took a moment, perhaps the last he’d have to place a call. Right to voice mail.

  “Col, I may be about to do something really stupid, but if I don’t make it, spin it as heroic, would you?” He smiled, thinking of his brother’s reaction, and that relaxed his dangerous tension. He quickly described where he was, not mentioning Auguste because he wasn’t sure if that was just fiction, adding that Twitch would be bringing his earring for trade. “See Amber gets it and that she’s taken care of in case I’m not able to protect them. And if the bastard doesn’t show, hunt him down for me, would you? I could use your help if you’re not doing anything and want to play hero with me.”

  The record function beeped, warning it had reached its limit. Rico put his phone on vibrate so a return call wouldn’t give him away.

  The area around the house seemed undisturbed, but if Trackers were there, he wouldn’t feel them until they were on top of him. No sense giving them the heads up. Burying his hands in whatever creature putrefied in the street drain, he rubbed filthy palms over his clothes, hair and even face to disguise his scent with that of rotting offal, choking back the urge to retch while surveying the building.

  Moving quick and silent, he gained access to the second story via a listing covered porch, pushing out a ripped screen to slip into a dark upper hall. He quieted his breaths, timing them to match the moan of the wind leaking in through countless holes as he moved from door to door in a light-footed trot.

  He found Auguste in a ramshackle front room lying on a blood-soaked mattress on the floor, his head wrapped in heavily crusted towels. After checking for possible threats, Rico knelt and touched fingertips to his throat. Even before he found a beat, Gus’s low moan was proof of life.

  “What’s . . . that smell?”

  Rico laughed softly. “So now you’re picky about who rescues you?”

  “Terriot?” He panted slightly, struggling to form the words. “Ammy . . . Evie . . .”

  “Are fine. They’re safe. I’m here to get you out.”

  A surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist. “No. This . . . this is what I deserve . . . after what I did.”

  “We all make mistakes. Yours were just real shitty ones.”

  “I need you to tell Amber.”

  Rico’s vision adjusted to the darkness, enabling him to see Gus’s colorless face. His eye on the side of the head injury was blown and sightless. The other regarded him desperately as he asked, “Tell her what?”

  “Our folks. What I did.”

  Rico braced himself, leaning closer to hear the hoarse whisper. “What did you do?”

  “When he broke Evie’s arm, I went after him. He told . . . told me our mother hadn’t run off. He killed her. And he laughed. Said he’d do the same . . . to Ammy if she got in his way again. I shot him dead, the bastard.”

  Rico was silent for a long, stunned moment then murmured, “Good for you.”


  “Left . . . for their sake. But couldn’t stay away . . . my family.”

  “Yeah.” Rico’s tone softened. “I get that.”

  His bloody hand gripped Rico’s arm, his breaths laboring as he struggled to speak. “You . . . take care of them.”

  “I will. And I’ll take care of you because you’re part of them.”

  “No.”

  “Shhhh.” Rico glanced about anxiously, to see if Gus’s cry had been overheard but the house was silent except for his tortured breathing.

  “Go. Get out. It’s a trap for you.”

  “I know. They’re gonna regret catching me. I’ll be back.”

  A shaky hand gripped his arm. “Tell them . . . sorry. Tell them . . . I love them.”

  Rico pressed his hand. “I will. Be here when I get back.”

  He rose and cautiously made his way through the house. He didn’t want to spring that trap, not yet. Not until he found Donny.

  * * * * *

  Crouched where he could study the church from a safe vantage point, Rico waited. Morning was a lifetime away. No movement, no lights, but he could feel them in the way the hair stirred on his arms. He took time he wasn’t sure Auguste had to detail the entrances and exits, because if he died, no one would save Amber’s idiot brother who’d done one heroic thing that made the bastard worth saving.

  A cold, slashing rain swept through the ugly remnants of the town, unable to cleanse it. But it did strip away the lengths he’d gone through to protect his presence.

  Instinct more than awareness had Rico lunging to one side, rolling across his shoulders and up to his feet to face a grinning threat.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’m here.”

  “The lone wolf out for revenge.” Donny shook his head. “How did you get put back together?”

  “Clean living. And the need to personally rip out your lungs.”

  Donny chuckled. “This isn’t personal. You should have remembered that and come with an army.”

  “How do you know I didn’t?”

  Donny betrayed a moment’s hesitation then his confident smile returned. “Because I know you, Terriot. Despite all your rah-rah about working together, you’ve always gone your own way, haven’t you, with no one to back your reckless plays?”

  “I don’t need anyone else to take you down.”

  “There’s your mistake. I don’t have anything to prove to you.” He made a gesture, and a row of silent, black-garbed figures lined the street behind him. Tension rippled through Rico’s stance even though it didn’t break as they confronted one another.

  “Where’s your bluster now?” Donny spit on the puddled ground. “You might as well lie down and roll over.”

  Rico shook his head. “I don’t do tricks. What are you doing here in this city? You can’t kill us all.”

  A feral grin. “Yes, we can. But why would we while you still have uses? You need to be controlled to be useful. That’s why we’re here, to put a leash and muzzle on all your kind.”

  “How’d that work out with LaRoche, with Savoie?”

  Lip curling, Donny sneered, “We have something better in store for you now. Something like a chemical bullet to the brain that short-circuits all individual will so it complies absolutely to our own. Making you the perfect Stepford labor force to do with as we choose.”

  The idea so terrified, Rico couldn’t force a swallow. Was it possible? He managed to growl, “I don’t believe you. If you could do that, where’s your proof?”

  “Soon they’ll be patrolling your streets, not to protect, but to govern and contain them. Consider me and Poe as proof.”

  They were going to use the Patrol as an army against their own kind. And he’d been working to train them! Rico refused to betray how those cold plans alarmed him. Looking in Donny’s dead eyes, he saw the truth of every word spoken. Finally, he said, “My family will never submit.”

  “I know.” Those two words quickened a cold terror in Rico’s belly that spread outward when Donny added, “That’s why you’ll all be killed, right down to the last prince and pup.”

  “Not if I stop you.” Rico took an aggressive step forward. The line behind Donny bristled to attention.

  “You? Alone?”

  A slow, sharp-toothed grin. “I’m not alone. And you won’t live long enough to see the rest of your pals die.” When the traitor hesitated, Rico laughed low, with a goading ferociousness. “Let’s do this, you and me. That’s the only way you’ll ever know.”

  “Know what?”

  “Who’s better.” He gave his wide shoulders a limbering roll, muscles bunching and bulking up, nails lengthening as his eyes flashed silver then blood red. And without warning, he lunged, taking Donny to the ground.

  As Donny struggled to keep Rico’s snapping teeth from his throat, the line of Trackers started to break to come to his assistance. He pounded a fist into Rico’s nose to set him on his heels, yelling at the others, “Stay back! He’s mine!”

  Licking the gush of blood from his face and hand, Rico backed up slowly, regaining his feet as the sunrise crested the row of dilapidated buildings, catching the brilliance of his single diamond, turning the red of his hair and eyes to flame. He smiled, waiting for his opponent to stand before coming at him again.

  This time, instead of engaging directly, Rico feinted left, wrapping his right arm about Donny’s neck while dropping abruptly to his left knee, dragging a surprised Donny off balance and slamming him downward across that right knee Poe had mashed to bits, snapping his enemy’s spine with crack as loud as a shot.

  Rico released his hold slowly, letting the limp body fall to the dirty street as he drawled, “I didn’t teach you everything, you son of a bitch.”

  He looked to the silent group of his enemies who stood braced and ready, expecting his attack. Maybe the old Rico would have thrown himself into that unwinnable fight, but this one had more to lose than his life. So, he did the unexpected. He ran.

  The cat and mouse went on for close to a nerve-wracking hour, leading them away from where Gus lay. Rico managed to separate four from the group and take them out, one by one, leaving him winded, cold, and bleeding from several non-fatal wounds when he rounded a corner, and smack into a solid figure. Before he could leap back, strong hands gripped his arms, holding him fast.

  “Yo, Red!”

  His knees gave in relief as he slumped against the familiar form.

  “You all right? What the hell is that stink?”

  Rico managed a weak grin. “Glad to see you, too. How’d you find me?”

  “Some skeezy dude driving your car. Here.” Colin replaced the diamond in his ear.

  Rico cast a quick look about the surrounding shadows obscured by the now near downpour, making a painful discovery. “You alone?” Had the group he’d started to think of as friends elected to sit this one out?

  “Looks like, for now.”

  They weren’t coming to take a stand beside him. That truth wounded. He’d expected . . . more. But perhaps knowledge of Donny and Poe’s defection had shaken them from their faith in him as a leader, making them back away, leaving their fight to him and his brothers.

  Relying on Colin’s strength while regaining his own, Rico placed a call to Lake Tahoe. Hearing Amber and Evie’s voices steadied him, bringing home the reason for all he risked, and after he briefly filled Cale in on what he’d discovered, he readied to tell Amber about Auguste when shots sent him and Colin running for better cover.

  Amber, Evie. He had to get back to them. But two Terriots against a dozen or more assassins . . .

  “Did I miss anything?” Both brothers jumped to find Turow suddenly just there beside them.

  Colin grinned. “Waiting on you to get the party started.”

  Behind Turow, stood Philo Tibideaux, T-Ray Roux and countless members of the Patrol. T-Ray’s teeth flashed white and pointy as the early light threaded through dreary rain. “Think we’d let you have all the fun?
We’re here to dance. Turn us in the right direction.”

  Rico had never felt such a degree of personal pride watching those he’d trained boldly race into battle against a highly skilled enemy. The fighting surged up close and brutally vicious along the streets and dirty alleys of the forgotten town, so intense, Rico lost track of how many fell before him or of who had his back. But when the rain stopped and the skies broke clear, the enemy was gone, both living and dead. Just gone.

  After checking to make sure his brothers were safe, as promised with all pieces and parts intact, Rico left the securing of the perimeter to Tibideaux while he jogged back to the boarding house and his other obligation.

  To find Amber’s brother had disappeared as well.

  Chapter 28

  The Terriots weren’t inhospitable. Not exactly. At least, not openly enough to be called rude.

  The royal family gathered in the hall for lunch—their king and queen, three of the remaining seven princes with their mates, along with the widow of one of the four deceased brothers. The Terriot males shared the same ruggedly attractive looks, with red hair in shades from deep russet to fireball, and the arrogant flash of diamonds in their ears, while their females were varied. Only Kendra, Sylvia and now Mia wore one of their mate’s exquisite ear studs. The males regarded their visitors with interest and curiosity, the females with guarded suspicion. Not a comfortable atmosphere for the newcomers singled out as their brothers’ unconventional choices. To be watched rather than openly welcomed.

  Evie and Colin’s sisters were the only young people at the awkward gathering. They clustered around Amber and Mia. Sylvia surprised them by staying by their sides. Because, she explained, she’d once worn that stigma of dangerous as boldly as Mia.

  “Guests,” Mia muttered over breakfast, her dark eyes fileting the other females the way her knife and fork did her steak. “As if my mate wasn’t their equal.”

  Sylvia chuckled. “You’ll find there are various degrees of equal here. Ignore them. Only one opinion is important.”