King Cave (56 page)

“You’re trespassing,” a man’s deep rumble came from the balcony. The Com woman smirked, but was smart enough to keep her hands in the air. “Leave now and I won’t shoot you.” His voice held the bite of a lion Shifter.

Bingo.

I snorted, a little delirious from fatigue. I definitely should have gotten more sleep before entering this house. “I’m your Queen. You’d better not shoot.” I paused. “Or threaten me again since it’s against the Law, but I’ll let that one slide since you’re living in plain view in a city full of Coms.”
Idiot.
I didn’t say that, but it was definitely implied.

Full on silence, then he replied, “I don’t have a Queen.” He didn’t mention a King.

I sighed. The no fanfare and no party of my crowning didn’t help this issue, even though I had appreciated not being made a spectacle of. “I’m Queen Ruckler. Sent to find the next Prodigy.” I growled low, letting my wolf take voice, the Com woman’s eyes flying wide at hearing the evidence I was, in fact, Mystical. I was done playing nice. I was about ready to drop in exhaustion. “Get your ass down here where I can see you.” I let my command unleash.

I heard him grunt, then a tawny-haired brute of a man appeared in the corner of my eye, where he had trekked halfway down the stairs, jerking from the command. He looked thirty-five in Com years, so he had been around for the last war. He knew better than to hide in a place this filled with Coms. I growled in irritation, but he still had the gun in his hand, so I didn’t make any sudden movements.

My eyes flashed. “Set the gun down gently.”

He did so, even if fighting my command, his eyes narrowed, his hate at being manipulated clear.

“Tell the Com to turn the fuck around so I can disarm her.”

“Do it, Mac,” he stated instantly. “She’s telling the
truth
. She’s not here to harm us.”

Beautifully, the Com turned and placed her hands on the door. I moved swiftly, disarming her. Not only did she have a gun at the back of her waistband, but she also had one strapped to her leg. I grunted in approval, even if she wasn’t using silver bullets, thinking her only attack would come from Coms when everyone knew the Beasts were out there. “Are you going to behave, Mac?”

Instantly, she nodded.

“Aloud, Mac.” I smacked the back of her head. “Are you going to behave?”

Instant. “Yes.”

Only partial
truth
.

I heard the owner sigh even as I quickly debated my option…then I hit her over the head with the butt end of her own gun. I caught her falling form one-armed, my gun instantly altering to the owner. “She was a loose end I don’t have time for.”

His jaw was clenched. “She’s loyal, so please don’t kill her.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Laying her on the floor, I listened to her heartbeat and felt her head. She had a bit of a goose egg already starting, but she was fine. I sighed, straightening, and rested back against the door, not holstering my weapon because there were other lingering Com scents in the house. “You have a son?” It was a simply asked question, no command in my tone.

He rolled his shoulders, crossing his arms while assessing me. “You don’t look like Lily Ruckler.” His head cocked at my duffle. “And you’ve got a live lion in that bag.”

My shoulders slumped. I was done playing this game. I took my fake glasses off and pulled the hoodie I was wearing down. I pointed at my brown hair. “It’s spelled.” I unzipped my bag and pulled Bonnie out from where she had been hiding the majority of the time in the cab. “This is Bonnie. My Vizoac.” Hooking her under one arm so I still had my shooting hand free, I explained at his wide gaze as he scented the air. “She’s also spelled to look different.”

I jostled her. “Speak, Bonnie.” She growled, sounding very much like a lion even though it came out of a poodle’s mouth. I jostled her again. “Good girl.” I cracked my neck. “Now, do you have a son?”

He blinked. “Twins. A son and a daughter.”

“Perfect,” I grumbled. That meant possibly two brats to cart along on our trip. “Let’s see them.”

He nodded, gesturing up the stairs, his eyes traveling over my face. “I’m so sorry for—”

“Look, I’m exhausted.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear apologies. All I want to do is my job, and then get us all the fuck out of this Com-infested city.” I eyed him as we walked down a thin hallway. “What the hell are you thinking, living here with kids?”

He had stiffened when I had said ‘get us all out’, and now he straightened even more. “I made it through the last war living in a damn sewer. I won’t live like that again.”
King Cave isn’t a sewer, but it isn’t this place, and he sure as hell will be living there.
“I have Coms that I trust bring food and supplies in and out.”

“There’s stubborn,” I stated. “Then there’s stupid stubborn. Do you know which category I would place you in?”

He chuckled, relaxing a little. “I can imagine.” He opened a door at the end of the hallway. “They’re both in here, taking naps.”

Before entering, I sniffed the air and listened. All I heard were two tiny heartbeats, steady breathing, and the ticking of a clock. But I scented… “The room’s spelled.” My gaze slammed to his.

Cautiously, he nodded. “If you mean them no harm, you can pass.”

My nostrils flared, and I nodded, smelling only
truth
on him. I carefully stepped through the doorway, not getting killed with the spell, which was probably how it was concocted. The lion Shifter followed me in, and I realized I hadn’t asked his name, so I did in a whisper.

“Lynn Johnson.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Johnson. I only wish it was during better times.”

He nodded, and then gestured to the left where a tiny female slept on her stomach, her hair orange. “That’s Brenna.” A hand to the right where a not-so-tiny male — compared to the female — slept on his back, his hair a wild, curly black. “And that’s Brann.”

“They’re twins?” I asked in disbelief, studying their size difference. When Lynn nodded, I grunted, staring at the boy. “He’s gonna be big.”

Lynn smiled proudly. “He’s already a little rascal.”

Wonderful.
My future may include training a ‘rascal’. “Let’s see if he’s the Prodigy.”

I set Bonnie on the floor with a swift order to be quiet and still, fishing for the die in my pocket. I didn’t miss how Lynn held his breath, watching me closely. I wasn’t sure if he wanted this for his son or not by his expression.

Oh, well, because if it was Brann, it was destined.

I fisted the die, and pulled it out, beginning to slowly open my fingers.

My phone rang, blaring in my other pocket. “Sorry.” I fumbled for it as the kids twitched in their sleep. I grabbed it and quickly hit a button, putting it up to my ear and whispering, “Hello?”

“Are you alright? You didn’t call and it has been over a half-hour,” Ezra rumbled.

On speakerphone.

“Shit,” I muttered, yanking the phone away from my ear.

A pause, then Ezra boomed, “Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

I fumbled with the phone, Ezra’s voice encompassing the entire room as he ranted in a rising shout, “What’s happening? I knew I should have come with you. All those goddamn Elder fucks probably don’t know shit about the spell—”

I found the button and his voice cut off for a second before I held the phone up to my ear. Hearing him work himself into a tizzy, I interjected, saying, “I’m fine.” I was pretty sure he didn’t hear me because he kept going on. And on. “Ezra.” And on. “
Ezra!
”

He shut up, and I said, “I’m fine. I need to call you back, though.”

Silence, then a clipped, “You aren’t lying?”

“No. Scout’s honor.”

He snorted. “Just call me.” He hung up.

Rolling my shoulders, I studied my phone, trying to figure out how to put it on vibrate.

“Ezra…” Lynn murmured into the silence, his kids miraculously still sound asleep. “As in, Ezra Zeller, the Prodigy Vampire?”

I nodded, finding what I was looking for. “Well actually, Ezra Zeller, as in, King Zeller now.” I pocketed my phone. Time to see if Brann was the brat I wanted. “Okay, let’s do this.” I glanced at him, ready to gauge his reaction as I again held out my hand with the fisted die.

And froze.

He was giving me a peculiar look.

“What?”

He blinked. “Did he call you sweetheart,” a pause, “in the middle of his outburst?”

I blinked this time and couldn’t come up with anything adequate in my addled, sleep-deprived mind. “Yeah. I think he did.” I shrugged. “I called him an arrogant asshole a few hours ago.”

“Okay.” He smiled, which made him even more handsome. “I get it.” Approvingly, he nodded with grand motions.

I wasn’t sure what he really got, but he wasn’t fussing, so I went with it. I raised my eyebrows and nodded, like him, smiling. Then I jerked my head at Brann. “How about we do this?”

His eyes instantly hooded.

Ah. I caught it this time.

He wasn’t thrilled.

Too bad.

Slowly, I uncurled my fingers, but the die was only white like before the spell had been cast. “Shit.” God, I was definitely off my game. “Mr Johnson, I’m going to need you to take your daughter and drive around the block.” My gaze met his, and I saw his nostrils flare. “The spell doesn’t work if any other Mystical is nearby, but hopefully if you’re a block away, it will.” My lips pinched when I could tell he hated the idea. “Look, I’m not here to hurt you or your family. I’m here to find the Prodigy and protect him.”

It took five more minutes to convince him, even though he was scenting my
truth
the entire time. Protective he was, and I didn’t disagree with his reasoning, so I didn’t push my will on him, convincing him civilly, since I may have to deal with him in the future. I even helpfully carried the unconscious Com out to his car while he carried Brenna’s peacefully slumbering form. That wasn’t completely selfless, because I really didn’t want the Com waking to find me alone in the bedroom with the boy. I had a feeling that after being knocked out, she would shoot first and ask her questions later.

Finally hearing his car pull away, Bonnie and I sat in the middle of the twins’ bedroom, the white die in my opened palm. Waiting. A minute later, the die sparked to life, glowing an even brighter black, which pulsed in my hand. I jerked forward, the die literally pulling me toward the bed with the boy. I crawled, luckily already on my knees because the thing suddenly weighed a ton, and my hand hit the mattress. I watched in fascination as the black spark of knowledge beaded out of the die, leaving it white as before, and raised high into the air, floating above the boy’s forehead.

It dropped, landing like a blot of ink before disappearing against his skin altogether.

The boy didn’t even notice, still snoozing peacefully.

I grinned, even as I felt the Prodigy ring and the Queen ring splitting, separating into two rings, and my eyes turned to Bonnie. “It’s him.” I tossed my die into the air, catching it with satisfaction at finding my mark. “Stay here and protect him while I wait downstairs for Mr Johnson.” I stood, pocketing the white die, Bonnie nimbly jumping onto the edge of the bed. “Don’t hurt him if he wakes and tries to pet you.”

“I found him,” I said over the phone to Ezra. I chewed on my thumbnail, standing in the foyer and waiting for Mr Johnson to return, not really wanting to say the next part, but needing to, so when he met them he didn’t react…oddly. It was only now hitting me as the adrenaline from the possibility of danger left my system. I was even feeling an ache inside my chest. “His name’s Brann Johnson.”

“And?” Ezra asked slowly. “I can tell something’s wrong.”

I sighed, rubbing at my chest. “He’s a twin. A boy and a girl. The girl’s name is Brenna.” My breath hitched. “They’re really cute. Brenna’s small with orange hair and Brann’s large with black hair.” A too-close representation of what our twins could have looked like.

I heard him inhale deeply — the licks just kept on coming — and he stayed silent.

“I just…” I cleared my throat, trying to reign in my emotions. “I just wanted to prepare you.” Rubbing my forehead, I sighed, pushing over our past. “At least we can get out of this fucking city tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?”

I blinked. “Yes.” My forehead furrowed. “Is that a problem?”

He sighed. “No.” A pause. “I think I’m going to take a walk. When will you be here?”

I heard the car pulling up. “A walk?” Visions of what his dad had done on his walk bombarded me. “Ezra…” I said softly. “Your dad already took care of your mother’s
burial wishes
.”

Dry words. “Sweetheart, Dad told me what he did, so you don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

“And you’re still going
walking
?” I asked hurriedly, hearing the key jingle in the lock.

“I’m not using the term walking as metaphor for doing something heinous.”

The door opened, and I held up a finger to Mr Johnson as he stepped inside and opened his mouth. “Alright. We’ll probably be there in a few hours.” I turned, whispering, “Be careful out there.”