Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore Book 5)

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Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore Book 5) Page 20

by Scarlett Dawn


  He stared at me steadily, not scowling, then he cracked each of his thumbs. “If you think we’re done with this conversation, you’re fucking wrong.” He peered to King Collins. “But if you have a name, then the Primal Diamond can transport you to wherever you ask so you’ll be able to find them.”

  I jerked my head to King Collins. “If you think I’m placing that diamond in anyone else’s hands, you’re crazy. It’ll be me who goes.” When his eyes started to constrict, I shrugged a shoulder. “Simple recon. Flash in, flash out.”

  The One instantly countered, “If that diamond gets in the wrong hands…”

  I snorted, glancing back at him. “I thought we clarified that even the One can’t touch…” I left the sentence unfinished, letting everyone extrapolate that the diamond couldn’t be taken from me. My gaze flew back to King Collins. “I did all the work on this, and like I said, simple recon. It’s my damn diamond. I deserve to do this. Not to mention, Jacob Angel hurt me in ways I can’t even describe.”

  The One’s retort was immediate. “Jacob Angel hurting her is the exact reason she should not be doing this. She will not be thinking clearly if she has to confront him.”

  “I will blow his head off if he’s directly in front on me.”

  “And what if she encounters both Philip Masterson and Jacob Angel? What if they’re together? Or worse yet, what if she ends up getting speared to a goddamn wall again?”

  My head snapped to him. “That was fucking cheap. I didn’t even have my powers then.” I paused. “And you’re using the memories you took from me today. Somehow that doesn’t seem right when you were looking because of him.”

  His lips went crooked. “What was it you said about criminals owning what they take?”

  I snorted. “Whatever, Sock Man.” Eyes back to my King, I pleaded with my gaze. I asked the one question bound to tie him up. “You trust me, don’t you?” I waited a moment then bent forward, whispering, “I’ll tell Queen Cooper what you don’t want her to know.”

  I sat back and rested comfortably. Done. Pow. I kicked ass.

  The One still debated, “Trust has nothing to do with it. It’s about sending the most experienced against a man who started MCWWII.”

  I only cocked a brow. I was pretty sure I heard King Zeller snickering next to my King, having heard with Vampire ears of what I had threatened.

  King Collins rubbed his forehead. He peered up under his hand to Elder Merrick and asked, “Has he been telling the truth the whole time?”

  “Truth to all.” Elder Merrick nodded.

  I sucked a breath, realizing my King was about to vote against me.

  I indicated, “I guarantee I’ve had the most recent battle experience. If push comes to shove, I can take care of myself.” I lifted my hand and started listing my experience. “I broke out of jail, and I can’t even begin to tell you how many people I shot accurately that day trying not to kill them. I stole the wallet of King Zeller—the fast-ass Vampire King—from under his nose without him realizing it. I eluded the four Rulers for three months. I took down MSA agents and helped bury them in a wall. And I shouldn’t even have to mention that you saw my skills in Colorado.” I threw my hands up. “Not bad for a supposedly peaceful existence.”

  When no one said anything, the One asked, “No one can beat that?”

  “She said recent experience,” Elder Merrick grunted, shaking his head. “I haven’t had that much action in two years.” He blinked. “Maybe three.”

  “Fine,” the One drawled, leaning back on his chair. I turned a victorious smile on him…until he flicked a flagrant hand, stating, “I can’t go into detail, but I’ve fought and killed more than that in the past month.” He paused. “And it was all done within spirit Laws. Plus, I give you my word, I will do as you order on the mission should you task me with it.” He then pointed to Brann, his gaze still on me and his lips slowly curving. “Mr Johnson, if you would, please?”

  Brann growled, “Truth to all.”

  My jaw instantly clenched.

  Merrick muttered, “Can I get in on that action?”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I muttered, glaring first at the abnormally chatty Elder Shifter feening for a killing and then to my King. “If I hand it over to him, he’ll keep it. And he won’t even tell us its real power.” My lips pinched. “It’s mine.”

  King Collins peered up to the One. “Will you tell us its true power? Will you give it back to her?”

  “No, it’s mine,” the One drawled, his head tilting lazily back on his chair. “I will tell you the Primal Diamond can be used for malicious purposes, but I have no intention whatsoever of using it as such. The Mage who found it and gifted it to me is a good man, and he wouldn’t have left it in my hands if he believed me foolhardy enough to use it as such. Furthermore,” he shrugged a shoulder, “I’m the One.”

  Elder Merrick instantly stated, “Truth to all.”

  Well, hell.

  My nostrils flared, and I glared at King Collins. “He. Hid. It. In. A. Sock.”

  King Collins sighed heavily, glancing at the One. “A sock? Really?”

  The One countered, “The only reason I believe she even made it into my room alive is because of the protection over her.”

  My lips twitched. “You’re wrong.” I glanced to King Collins. “It’s your choice.”

  He rubbed his forehead again. “No, it’s not just my choice.” He inhaled and sat back on his chair, glancing at the group. “Elders, Rulers, Prodigies, we’re going to take a vote.” A glance to me. “You’re not allowed, so keep your hand down.” Back to everyone else. “All in favor of the One using the Primal Diamond to search out Philip Masterson and Jacob Angel, raise their hand now.”

  Brann, Aria, London, King Zeller, and Elder Farrar didn’t raise their hands.

  The rest did, including my King.

  I fumed silently, a haze clouding my vision. I kept my eyes on the table where my hands sat palms down, and I didn’t show any outwardly emotion. There was no need for King Collins to ask the other way. I had lost.

  In my peripheral, I saw King Collins glance down to me. He ordered softly, “You need to hand it over, Caro.”

  “Right,” I murmured calmly. “I understand.” I scooted my chair back, consumed with the betrayal of those around me who had raised their hands. Not to mention that it scared me not to have it. It was my real escape if I needed it. And now for the sake of, yes, possibly the world, I was handing it over. Handing over my life for the better good.

  It fucking sucked.

  I went to the corner where a small bar and sink were and opened my palm, using the tiniest smidgen of my power so I didn’t have to retrieve the diamond the hard way. I proceeded to clean the Primal Diamond in the sink and dry it, carrying it in my fist. When I held my fist out to the One, he opened his palm. I let it drop onto his hand.

  Everyone at the table leaned forward. The One bent his head down.

  All stared.

  He muttered, “It’s…” He glanced up to my face, gazing for a long moment, and then back down. “It’s your nose ring.”

  “Yes, I had it spelled to size by an old Mage at a jewelry shop.”

  His attention tilted up to me as his fist closed over the Primal Diamond. “You lied about where you hid it.”

  I nodded once and gestured at the table. “And no one, not even the Shifters at this table, realized it.” My eyes roamed his nose. “I hope you didn’t twist your words too, since I’m fairly sure you now hold what could be the destruction of the world in your hand. They trust you over me, after meeting you for only a few hours, even after I saved their asses and have been nothing but faithful to them.” I flicked a finger at his palm. “Not to mention, you now hold my life in your hands. You probably don’t understand that, but it’s the truth.”

  Roselle captured my regard. “Ms Jules, this is one of the exact reasons—”

  I held up my right hand, stopping her. “I know.”

  I tur
ned, and when I trekked by Elder Farrar, I stopped and squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you for keeping your hand down to make the vote a little closer.” I kissed his cheek lightly as he patted my hand on his shoulder. I moved out of the room, ignoring King Collins stuttering at me to stop. I needed a little solace after giving them everything they needed on a fucking platter, including, quite possibly, my very existence in this world.

  And getting nothing in return but crushed disappointment.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Solace by definition can mean an abundance of variations depending on your outlook in life. My source of solace, more than likely, was heavily extreme in most individuals’ eyes. When I woke to the sound of many different snores and a cell phone ringing somewhere, I groaned and tried to go back to sleep, still content with my choice of solace and most definitely still drunk from the night before.

  The phone stopped ringing and a male grumbled, “Fuck off. We only went to sleep an hour ago.”

  Peaceful quiet.

  Until the cell phone started ringing again.

  “Jesus Christ,” another male voice groused. “Turn the damn thing off.”

  “I already answered it,” the first male voice griped. Then he hissed, “Didn’t you hear me the first time? I. Said. Fuck. Off.” An extended pause. “Sure you are, and I’m the President of the United States saying go fuck yourself.”

  Adored quiet.

  I groaned when the damn thing went off again and there was a resounding chorus of voices shouting a complaint, but this time when the male answered, he snarled, “Look, dickhead, I don’t give a shit—” He shut up. Snorted. “Are you shitting me? There’s no one even here with the name Caro and your constant calling is—”

  “Wait!” I cut him off, lifting my head from the bare male stomach of the air Elemental I was using as a pillow. I leaned over the guy, gazing down at the floor. “Just give me the damn phone and I’ll take care of it.”

  The fire Elemental tossed it up. “Here ya go, babe.”

  I barely caught it before my head fell back onto hot flesh.

  I held the phone to my ear, muttering, “You need to quit calling, buddy.”

  Over the line, King Collins detailed with extreme slowness, “Get your ass home, now.” There was a definite bite to his tone, probably having to do with the fact I had snuck out last night before dinner.

  I chuckled quietly, digging my feet under the covers and under the earth Elemental on the other side of me. “I’m a little drunk for that, but your request is interesting. Let me think on it while I sleep some more.”

  “Sugar, hang the phone up,” the air Elemental murmured, petting my hair. “And you’re pulling the blanket off my feet.”

  “Her damn feet are like ice,” the female earth Elemental muttered. “Let her have the blanket.”

  “I won’t ask again,” King Collins said quietly with intent. “I want you home, now. Other guests have arrived and I want you here.”

  I chuckled again, slurring, “Fine.”

  “Good.” More slow words. “Lunch is in an hour. I expect you there.”

  Turning the phone off, I wasn’t sure if his demand was even possible.

  I lifted my head. “Where the hell am I, anyway?”

  I was ten minutes late. I raced down the hallway of the Mage’s section of the Manor, burping quietly and banging into a wall, after paying off a Mage on the street to spell my hair from black to my normal white and hot pink. Said hair was still damp from my hurried shower in my room, and unfortunately I was still a bit tipsy as I slowed my pace. I inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to steady myself, then I turned into the kitchen for lunch.

  I stopped dead in my tracks at what I saw.

  The guests.

  The One’s parents.

  Oh dear God, I did not want to deal with them right now.

  Unless I wanted to pivot on my heel—with everyone’s heads turned in my direction—and leave the room, I really didn’t think I had an option. I held down another burp and smiled pleasantly to them, dipping my head. “Hello, Mr and Mrs Damon.” My brows lifted. “I didn’t know you two were coming.”

  Mr Damon’s gaze had already made a sweep of my person from head to toe, which included my favorite pair of holey jeans, a morbidly graphic, long-sleeved black shirt, and black boots. “Yes, well…” His head tilted toward Mrs Damon. “She can be very insistent.”

  I wasn’t about to touch that comment.

  Mrs Damon glanced at my wet hair. “Ms Jules, have you just now woken up?”

  I waved a hand, heading toward the lunch buffet. “I needed a shower after my…workout. I’ve been up for a while now.”

  “Were you exercising outside?” London asked, squinting at me. He pointed at his throat, and then at mine. “Because I think you have mud on your neck.”

  I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe at my skin, cursing the quick shower. “I may have hit a bit of mud.”

  My King distracted them, asking Mr Damon questions about Jacob Angel.

  I bumped the counter with my left hip as I rounded it to fill up my plate, but I was fairly sure no one noticed. I brushed my hair out of my face and moved with grace the rest of the way to the table, sitting between King Collins and Brann. I couldn’t hold back the next burp, so I did it discreetly behind my glass of water, but I saw Brann sniff the air as he ate. His food stalled to his mouth before his fork continued to its destination. I knew he had smelled the vodka.

  Amber eyes flicked to me, crinkling with obvious humor.

  That was when the phones of the Rulers and Elders started blowing up. Every single one of them rang almost simultaneously.

  I put down my fork when King Collins answered his phone like the rest of the Royals.

  All eyes landed on me.

  I froze, then I leaned toward Brann.

  From the expressions flittering over their faces, whomever the Royals were speaking with wasn’t giving them good news.

  King Collins jerked from his chair, standing. Glaring at me, he hit a button on the wide-screen television on the wall. He asked into his phone, “What station?”

  The other Royals were ending their calls, every single Mystical silent.

  King Collins barked, “I’ll call you back, dammit.” He snapped his phone shut. When it rang again he ignored it…and again the next time it rang. My King found the channel he wanted and stood back from the screen, his arms crossed. His eyes were steady on the television like everyone else’s. The news report was already midstream.

  “…hearing it here first, ladies and gentleman, with the Tipsy Slider,” the funky Mage news anchor announced. “Are you ready?” He paused, his eyes half-lidded. “From just last night, here is your next Queen Elemental.” He winked. “And I think you’ll like,” a slow drawl, “her dirty side.”

  “Aw, shit,” I muttered, a hand going to my mouth.

  “Who wants to challenge the castrator next?” an air Elemental announcer shouted from the sidelines into a microphone, throwing an arm out to the woman in the middle of the mud wrestling ring. Mud was up to her knees, and her brown, muddy head tilted back as she took a long chug straight from the bottle of vodka she held. She appeared to be wearing nothing under the mud covering her entire body, except for the barely visible bra and panties that did little to hide her assets. “Come on, people! One more! She just needs one more to break the record!” He leaned over the rope, holding out the microphone, and asked, “Why do you call yourself the castrator?”

  The woman grinned. “That should be obvious.”

  King Collins cursed as my voice echoed inside the room. Because yes, the woman on the screen was me.

  “Could I change it to lover?” The announcer asked.

  “Maybe later,” I slurred drunkenly, leaning back on the ropes and grabbing the mike with my free hand. I hollered into it, “C’mon, bitches! I want to break the damn record.” My grin was sloppy. “But please, don’t get in the ring if you cry easily. I promise not to be gentle.�
��

  More cursing from King Collins.

  The announcer took the mike back, stating, “Well, there you go, straight from the castrator’s mouth,” a glance down at me, “whom I hope to be seeing later tonight.” He turned his eyes back to the audience. “One more woman is all we need.”

  “I’ll do it,” a female’s voice shouted from the sidelines, “I’ll take the cocky bitch down!”

  Onscreen, I pumped a fist into the air, shouting, “Fuck yes.” I took another swig of my vodka before I held it out to the announcer to take as a Shifter woman came to the sidelines, efficiently undressing to her underwear. I evaluated her before saying to the announcer, “Put all I’ve made on this last fight. Down in less than a minute.”

  “You sure?” he asked, his voice muffled because he put the mike behind his back. “You’ve already fought nineteen others, and she looks pissed.”

  “Her hands are shaking,” I muttered, wobbling a bit in the mud. “She’s going down.”

  “As you wish,” he stated, leaning over the ropes to me even as the Shifter got into the mud. He flat out smacked my ass. “Good luck.”

  “Luck is for pussies.” I rolled a finger. “Let’s get this started.”

  Without warning, a bell rang, and the Shifter flew at me.

  I watched my onscreen self drop, disappearing beneath the mud as the Shifter flew over where I had been and hit the slopping brown stuff hard on her side. Mud splattered onto the screaming spectators on the sidelines, the roars of the crowd loud. I hadn’t re-emerged from under the mud, but when she jumped to her feet growling, her eyes flew wide and she screamed bloody murder right before her hands flew out. She fell back, going under the mud.

  I re-emerged, lying on her back, my legs wrapped around her waist and one of my arms tight around her throat. She took me on a death roll through the mud, trying to get me off…right before she went still, less than thirty seconds later. Her face pointed upward, her eyes closed and her mouth opened. I quickly shoved her aside, sitting up and rubbing the mud from my eyes. Like the kind Samaritan I was, I checked her pulse before standing and pumping a fist at the screaming crowd. Everyone chanted, “Castrator, castrator, castrator, castrator!”

 

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