Other than the quiet chew down that tragic night had afforded me courtesy of Elder Jacobs, then later, a much more held-in-check-rage one from Cain for the next three days, in which, he had rescheduled just as many meetings as Elder Jacobs had for them to rotate shifts, caring for me during King Hall hours. The Prodigies then taking over during the evenings while I recovered, it also afforded me a wonderful—not really—invite to King White’s house for a weekly dinner—by way of an actual old stationery letter in the mail—with the other Kings, Elders, and Prodigies. Honestly, I was surprised the Kings hadn’t paid me an actual personal visit sooner. In my opinion, the Kings had been either patiently waiting to see where our friendships were heading, which they found out when Fergus started offing MIA agents without giving a reason fast enough or had even more spies watching us than we knew about and were still searching into my background, trying to find something, anything, but nothing had come up, but whichever it was, I would find out in a few minutes.
Knocking on the door to the brick-fronted mansion, I smoothed down the simple black satin top and black flowing, casual skirt I had purchased, clutching my purse’s strap casually over my shoulder, and waited as a butler opened the door, showing me inside to a formal living room where everyone appeared to already be, except for King Samson and Nelson, both of whom hadn’t appeared to arrive yet.
I halted to a stop when an adorable little boy of about two ran at me, black hair flying about his tiny head, and he grabbed onto my skirt, yanking it a bit, just in case he hadn’t caught my attention. He stared up at me with big dark eyes, asking, “Wa’s you name?”
My brows lifted at the cutie, and I squatted even as I saw King Townsend, Elder Merrick, and Kincaid walking toward me, getting down on his level, holding out my hand to him, stating softly, “I’m Sadie.”
His slightly clammy tiny hand landed in mine, shaking it vigorously. “Sadie.” I nodded, and he grinned adorably, and then pointed at himself, stating proudly, “Dominic.”
I stared. Frozen for the barest moment, realizing this was Kincaid’s son. Queen Ruckler’s mate. The one who had passed away when he was only a Prodigy. My heart tore instantly, seeing such innocence in front of me, knowing he was going to die. A first for me in this time in the past.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t alter time. Elder Farrar didn’t even have to tell me that before, the rule a must. I couldn’t warn anyone to save a life when the death was supposed to have happened. So, my voice was a little choked as I smiled a great big smile at this adorable child, and shook his tiny hand just as vigorously as he had mine, stating, “It’s truly a pleasure, Dominic.”
His grin turned shy, his appearance a bit bashful, peering up at his dad, now standing next to us. “Like her, Dad.” He pulled his hand out of mine, placing it on my cheek, still staring way up at his father with innocent eyes. “Pretty.”
My grin was a bit tearful at his precious son, realizing I probably resembled Queen Ruckler with my hair red as it was, and smaller features, seeing her mate had really been perfect for her even at a young age.
Kincaid made a choking noise, even as Elder Merrick and King Townsend chuckled softly, the King placing a hand down, helping me to stand graciously from my squat while Kincaid swooped down, lifting his son high into the air, making him squeal a bit in laughter, the sound sweet in the refined, hushed room of quiet talking, and he growled up at his son, his wolf entering his tone a bit, “Just wait, Dom,” more tickling in the air, earning more laughter, “one day you’ll meet a beautiful Shifter who will take your breath away.”
Dominic grinned at his dad as I saw a different side to Kincaid while he tucked his son in against his side on his hip, holding him in an unbreakable, safe embrace. Fergus came to stand next to me, tossing an arm over my shoulder, and placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head, a very brotherly-sisterly action after someone was hurt, but I watched Dominic place his head on his dad’s shoulder, his thumb tapping against his dad’s chest as he watched Fergus and I. His dark eyes narrowed a bit, and showing true courageousness, he jabbed a finger at Fergus’s face, stating sternly, “Be-have wi’s her.”
All five of us started chuckling at his protectiveness shining through, and Fi came by, squeezing my shoulder in hello before taking Dominic, murmuring, “Let’s go, little man, before you start telling Fergus how to brush his teeth next.”
Dominic’s forehead crinkled. “Brush teeth.” He stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Icky.”
“But, you still have to do it,” Fi murmured quietly, walking toward another room, a dark one, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Kincaid had the smallest contented smile on his face, staring at the closed door. “She’s going to try to get him to take a nap.” A slight shake of his head. “I doubt it’ll happen right now.”
King Townsend dipped his head toward me, asking, “Are you all right, Ms. Farrow?”
I nodded instantly, making my body relax inside Fergus’s hold. “Yes.”
Hopefully, that came out the truth, since I wasn’t even sure. And, of course, the King would notice my reaction to Dominic, keeping an eagle eye on the babe, even when the father had been distracted by…being a father.
“Kincaid,” I moved the focus off me, “he is absolutely precious.”
His chest puffed a bit, giving me a real, proud smile. “Thank you, Sadie.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured.
King Townsend hummed quietly, sipping from his whiskey, eyes evaluating me over his glass, flicking to Fergus, then back to me, and he asked bluntly, “I wonder if anyone has ever asked if you want children, Ms. Farrow. I’m guessing by your reaction to Kincaid’s, you would like a few at some point in time.”
My lips curved, and realizing it was a bit sad. “I do want children eventually.”
And Kincaid would lose his…
Fergus, being Fergus, tried to lighten the mood, stating dramatically, “Oh, Sadie, dear.” A deep contented sigh, making me chuckle as I glanced up at him, batting my eyelashes furiously, our own personal brand against King Townsend. He whispered, “I can help you with that, since I adore children, too.”
My grin lifted even further as King Townsend choked on his drink.
I went languid against him, realizing I was still stiff.
Fergus chuckled quietly, his voice still dramatic. “But, dear, we first need to practice your cooking skills a bit more.” A pause with a thoughtful expression. “And have sex. Since we’ve never done that.”
I turned my face against his chest, cracking up.
King Townsend walked away, still choking.
Kincaid held his hand out to Fergus. “Pay up. I told you it would be my King to interrogate her first.”
Fergus released me with a squeeze while he dug for his wallet, muttering under his breath.
I wiped my eyes calmly, and peered up to the silent Elder, who was watching the two Prodigies with amusement. “Good evening, Elder Merrick.”
He dipped his head to me, and from my low vantage point, I caught him ogling my cleavage before he lifted his head. “Good evening, Ms. Farrow. I trust you’re feeling better?”
I nodded once. “Yes, I’m feeling much better.” I cocked my head. “Do you believe this evening will be as interesting as what,” I tilted my head to happy Kincaid and grumbling Fergus, “they think?”
“Possibly.” A shrugged shoulder. “Or it could turn out to just be a nice meal.”
“Ms. Farrow, how are you this evening?” King White’s voice broke into our quiet conversation.
My lips twitched as I ducked my head, because—I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again—a meal was never just a meal with Royals. “I’m well, thank you, King White. And how are you this evening?”
His red head of hair dipped cordially. “I’m doing wonderful this evening, Ms. Farrow.” Brown eyes up to Fergus—are you kidding me?—before darting to mine. “I thought it time we invite you here, since you’ve been demanding so much of my Prodigy’s attention at your apartment.”
My lips curved slightly, getting a real good feeling for how this evening was going to go, deciding it was definitely the latter of the two they had been doing, not biding their time at all.
Cool words from Fergus. “Demanding isn’t the correct form of expression I would use.”
The King’s eyes flittered to mine. “What would you call it, Ms. Farrow?”
My eyebrows rose a bit. “That would be simple, King White. I would call it camaraderie.”
Fergus grinned, and I watched as King White’s brows lifted a bit at me while he stated steadily, “I believe tonight will definitely be stimulating.” Then, he glanced to Fergus, jerking his head in the other Kings direction. “We have a few business policies to discuss before dinner is served.” A head nod toward me. “Excuse us, Ms. Farrow.”
Once Fergus left, and seeing Elder Merrick and Kincaid had begun talking quietly, I moved around behind them. I kept my grin at bay as Elder Merrick snuck his hand behind his back while he was speaking, fingers brushing out, running along mine softly, our fingertips lingering against each other’s, utterly hidden, until they separated in tender secret.
I didn’t look back, moving to the large bar on the side of the room where Venclaire stood, fixing myself a small glass of vodka straight up, my brows pinching as I slowed my actions while I glanced to Venclaire. He was standing very still, his eyes unfocused out the picturesque window, which would normally inspire someone to smile at the subtle splendor, but his blue eyes…they were distant as he held his drink without sipping, his gaze appearing…haunted and agonized. Instantly worried, I placed a hand on his arm, not giving any indication I felt it when he jolted in surprise at the contact, his gaze slamming down to mine while I whispered, “Are you okay?”
His face…it changed…completely blanking to the man I had gotten to know, and he smiled charmingly, patting my hand—covertly removing it—as he stated calmly, “Of course.” I nodded instantly, sipping from my drink, following his lead, this obviously not a subject he wanted to touch on since he played it off so well, the façade completely well scripted, and executed…normally. “How’s your evening going?”
“Wonderful.” I filled him in, since it would be odd if he hadn’t heard in this room.
He cheered me good naturally, our glasses clinking softly. “Congrats, although, you’ll need more of those drinks to deal with their onslaught. It’s unfair, really. Four against one.”
“Maybe, but don’t let them know I’m on to them,” I whispered conspiratorially, and then glanced about the room. “Aren’t King Samson and Nelson joining us?”
A quiet chuckle. “Ah, what you have missed thus far.” He tilted his head, giving us more privacy, stating very quietly, “King Samson tries to keep relations with other factions to a minimum. As do most others, but he’s a bit more strict on this. That’s not to say he doesn’t have a good relationship with the other three Kings, definitely a decent working relationship, but he’s undeniably not friends with them. And it reflects on Nelson’s attitude at times since he is his mentor.” His head tilted back up. “But, they’ll be here before dinner begins since the whole reason the Prodigies are brought together for the last year of their schooling is to create a bond with one another.”
My mouth widened in an “O” for a moment, not able to really say anything, because it could affect the future, but hell…
“You may want to wipe that look off your face in a hurry,” he stated quietly, turning to refill his drink, glancing at me with blue eyes, keeping his tone very quiet and soft. “Even if you don’t agree, it is how this world works for our longevity…and social acceptance.”
I quickly blanked my expression, knowing differently about the longevity part. “Kincaid’s view on this is?”
“Kincaid just tries to make the peace, since he’s scary enough as it is being able to rip a person’s head off with the flick of his pinkie.”
Sipping casually from my glass, glancing to where Fergus and King White stood just separated from the Kings, even as they spoke, the different factions keeping, at least, an arm span of space away from each other, something…I honestly hadn’t put together by now, so my voice was soft as I asked, “And Fergus’s view on this is?”
He hummed quietly, tapping on his drink. “I believe Fergus’s thoughts on this fact to be similarly accurate to our Laws. I once overheard a conversation he had with a student at King Hall, and he seemed honest in his cause when he told the individual it would only bring heartbreak if a child was ever born to only be killed, the relationship doomed by this fact from the beginning of anything truly lasting.” He sipped at his drink. Heavily. “I don’t believe him malicious in his actions, or thoughts. I truly have faith he doesn’t want others hurt by one of our more brutal Laws.” He finished the drink in one gulp. “And, his advice was accurate, even if a bit off based; the individual’s relationship was doomed.”
Oh…my.
I downed my own drink in silent commiseration for Venclaire, because while he hid it well ordinarily…he still wasn’t hiding shit right now, not by anyone with a trained eye in this conversation. “How about another drink?” I filled my own with vodka, and then lifted the whiskey in his direction, wiggling it a bit. “One more, maybe?”
“Sounds perfect.” He smiled gracefully, holding out his glass steadily. “Make it a double, please.”
Dinner with the Kings, Elders, Prodigies, and Fi…was so much fun.
It you were into sadistic torture of quick thinking and twisted words to ring true at the polite questioning. Interrogations were thrown my way, an obviously planned event between all four Kings, since I had no background whatsoever, and they had stewed long enough on Elder Farrar’s threat, wanting answers of their own to protect what was theirs.
And then, the real fun began during cocktails when Fi left for the King Shifter’s home with Dominic, her attempt for him to sleep in a different environment unsuccessful, and since it now was actually his normal bedtime—Kincaid had told me—Dominic was a bit cranky, so she headed home with their son.
It began when I started to feel light-headed during a conversation with King Bridges. My brows puckered a bit, trying to pay attention to him, focusing on his mouth. His words seemed to become even slower, though, and when I started to tilt toward him, Venclaire grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Couch,” I mumbled. “I need to sit.”
Venclaire instantly led me to the couch, setting our drinks aside, kneeling in front of me, asking, “What’s the matter?” He blinked a few times, rubbing his forehead as I rested like dead weight on the couch. “Are you still not feeling well from the other night?”
And then, he blinked real slow, appearing confused, his brows furrowing, and almost fell on his side, barely catching himself on one arm.
“Venclaire!” I shouted, but I couldn’t…move…when I tried to help him. “Oh, shit.” My gaze flew around the room, which wasn’t a great idea, making me even dizzier, seeing the other Prodigies falling to their knees in a blur, their drinks falling from their hands. “We’ve been drugged.”
“What?” Venclaire growled loudly, but it sounded slurred.
“What the fuck is going on?” Elder Merrick asked harshly, lifting one of the fallen drinks, sniffing at the glass as he glared at King Townsend.
Dry words from Elder Jacobs. “Would someone please care to explain why the Prodigies and Ms. Farrow have all,” he waved a bored hand, even though his dark eyes were sharp, “plummeted about the carpeting like dropped sticks?”
A wave of all magical factions powers slammed through the room—guess the Kings didn’t want to explain, but all I felt directly was a potent dose of fire Elemental power aimed at me, and it rocked me at full power, keeping me pressed to the couch. The fiery touch commanding, Fergus grunting and falling on his side a few feet in front of me, and I blinked seeing the Kings each moving peacefully to a cabinet, ignoring the silent glares they were receiving from the two Elders, who both appeared to be waiting for them to make just the wrong move before they dropped them, both miens barely hanging onto their threads of respect, not wanting to over command them if it wasn’t needed. King White opened the cabinet…the thing lined with silver, and they each pulled a pair of black gloves out silently, slipping them on, and lifting silver handcuffs from the depths of the cabinet.
Oh, holy shit.
Just as Elder Merrick started growling low in his chest, his voice decidedly ticked off, his positioning protectively in front of Kincaid, Elder Jacobs in front of Fergus spoke in a very soft tone, which was scary in itself. “You four have exactly two seconds to start talking.”
King White instantly stated, “We managed to fingerprint Ms. Farrow while she was recovering in jail. Not only does she not have a background,” his head teetered back and forth, “she also doesn’t exist according to any database. So, we’re done fucking around. It’s time questions were answered, and the Prodigies are going to sit back and listen mutely.” He bent next to Fergus. “And learn something about trusting so damn easily.”
King White swiftly slapped the silver cuffs on Fergus, then a second pair on me, making me grit my teeth as the icy burn coated me from the inside out. Like a shot of pure dry ice shut down any chance of me using my powers, not positive I could have with the drug in my system like it was anyway, but I kept my gaze firmly away from Elder Merrick, since I would have been glaring at him when he and Elder Jacobs went mute, stepping back to stand at a wall quietly, letting the Kings do their thing.
“What. The. Hell?” Fergus slurred on a shout from the ground, sounding entirely pissed, the other Prodigies voicing their complaints loudly, too, as they were silvered.
“Calm down,” King White murmured, bending to lift Fergus to a sitting position, and then he shouted, his head flying back when Fergus swung his head back in a quick jerk, slamming the back of his head into King White’s face. “Shit!” He shook his head swiftly, blood running down his nose, but it quickly cut off, healing, his grip not loosening on a clearly furious Fergus. “I’m not going to hurt you, dammit!”
“Get her out of those cuffs!” Fergus growled before a slew of inventive curses aimed at the Kings starting flying out of his mouth on a slur.
King Bridges actually chuckled at the furious expression King Samson wore at one of the particularly artistic insults toward him as they started dragging their drugged and silvered Prodigies to lean against a wall next to each other.
“Shut up,” King White muttered under his breath, starting to drag Caleb next to the other Prodigies. “Before you piss one of them off too badly.”
Instant slurred order. “Get. Her. Out. Of. Those. Cuffs!”
“Not after we’ve gone through this much trouble to get her in them,” King White muttered, placing Fergus gently on the wall, then growled another curse when Fergus started shouting at all of them, many different variations of ways he would kill them if they hurt me…to the point where King White gagged him with one of his gloves and the curtain ties he grabbed. “Be quiet before they charge your ass.”
King Samson murmured very dryly, “It’s tempting.”
And, Fergus flipped him off.
“Fergus!” I barked loudly, shaking my head against the ringing in my ears that caused. “I like you living, so do as he says.” My forehead sweating from the silver, I turned my eyes to King White. “He’s only protecting you.”
“Very nicely deduced.” King White removed his other glove, straightening to stare at me directly across the intimate room we were in, the Prodigies about ten yards away from me. “And seeing as you’re extremely intelligent and smooth with your dialect,” he waved his arms wide, “here we are.”
“I didn’t lie,” I mumbled. “You asked. I answered.”
King Townsend waved a finger. “You still never answered a question directly.” A wave at the silent, glaring Prodigies. “And you, your powers unknown to us, a woman with no background or history, except for activity with a criminal stopping by your apartment late at night and trained fighting skills against Law enforcement—we saw a video of that, by the way, a woman who does not exist in this world, you’ve managed to worm your way into their lives to the point each one trusts you completely.”
I sighed heavily. “I have no malicious intent toward any of them or any of you.”
King Townsend murmured, “Truth.” He nodded once. “I think you understand where this conversation is going, Ms. Farrow, so why don’t you start at the beginning.”
I chuckled quietly, eyeing them as I slurred, “Peace Kings, my ass.”
All four of their lips lifted slightly, and King White stated simply, “We brought peace to a world terrified from war.” A shrugged shoulder. “How we did so, is moot at this point, everyone much better off than how things were.”
I grunted. “I’m not really up for giving my life story.” I blinked slowly. “It’s really a dreadful and depressing one to most.”
“We’ll ask, then, and you answer without the elaboration of warped prettiness.” King White inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Your parents. Who are they?”
“I don’t know. I was raised in foster homes, none of those people’s names worth remembering.”
King Townsend nodded once.
“What are you since we can’t feel your power?” King Bridges asked bluntly, his arms crossed, leaning back against the bar.
Keeping it simple. “I’m not a Com. I’m Elemental.”
Another nod from the Shifter.
King White ordered, “Elaborate.”
My lips pinched, but I exhaled heavily, seeing no real way around this unless I wanted my throat slit, since I had no doubt one of them would do it in the dark of night if I didn’t pass this little test, stating, “I’m a spirit Elemental.”
All four stared at me for long moments, clear shock radiating on their faces, then three of their heads jerked to King Townsend, and he nodded once absently.
King White muttered a curse, running a hand over his face, peering at me with brown eyes as he held his hand over his mouth for, at least, a full minute. Not saying a word in the shocked silence before he dropped his hand, face blank, but he wasn’t a fool, not missing a damn thing, turning his attention to the Elders, asking them gruffly, “Did you know she’s a spirit?”
And, they both only stared at him calmly—no shock, their eyes both hooded. Apparently, they were going to let him run this little show, but they weren’t about to help.
“That would be a yes,” King Bridges murmured, actually appearing a bit amused—must have been listening to their heartbeats, his gaze coming back to me. “Why can’t we feel your powers? Is that a spirit thing?”
“No,” I stated calmly. “I don’t know how it happened, but I’m protected from others feeling my powers from a distance.”
A nod from the Shifter.
“Where are you from?” King White asked quietly, studying me closely, definitely a different light in his gaze now that he knew what I was.
“All over,” I slurred, blinking slowly to keep them in focus. “All over this fucking world.”
Instantly, King Samson’s head tilted oddly, and his eyes started glowing, and they all waited until he murmured in a dreamy tone, “World…Distance…Years…Dates…” My heart rate shot off like a cannon even with the drugs in my system, sweat beginning to trickle down my temples. King Bridges eyes flicked to me, then back to the Mage, whose head cocked the other way. “Lost…Scared…Alone,” his eyes glowed brighter, “Soul mates…Crossed…Love…Dates…Time,” he stuttered, voice airy, “Time…Time…Time…” He jerked, his entire body glowing dimly. “This isn’t her…time.” A wave of a hand as he stared off at only something he could see. “She’s from the…distance.” Another head cocking. “The future.”
I kept my face perfectly blank, scared to do anything else as he lurched, his glowing stopping, his gaze positively frantic as he asked me hurriedly, “You haven’t done anything to disrupt the future, have you?”
I stayed silent.
Somewhere I heard a door shut as the employees of the home worked in the hushed quiet.
“Answer me!” King Samson shouted at the top of his lungs, and started stomping toward me.
“Wait!” King White bellowed, slamming a hand on his chest stopping him in mid-motion, then stated more quietly, and slowly, at his furious expression, “You could be wrong.” He stared at him steadily. “And she is not yours to deal with.”
A finger jabbed in my direction. “I am not wrong, and only a Mage can travel through time, unless you know some secret about the elusive spirit Elementals I don’t.” He shook his head. “And even at that, no Mage can travel back in time. Something. Is. Wrong!”
Yes, something was very wrong if they kept up with this line of questioning, but I didn’t know what to do, unsure of what was safe to say.
“Are you from the future?” King Townsend asked bluntly, his wolf riding his tone, appearing confused as hell to even be asking the question.
My eyes tilted back to King Samson…staring at the man who had already done the damage…feeling a nice simmering anger for him in my belly, but I pulled my attention back to King Townsend, saying the only thing I could, “Yes.”
He muttered on a whisper, “Truth.”
“Jesus,” King Bridges mumbled in horrified wonder.
“I fucking told you!” King Samson barked, slapping King White’s hand away, pointing his finger at me again, ordering gruffly, “Keep your mouth shut. Don’t answer another damn question until we get this figured out.”
My lips pinched, and I stared at my lap, still unable to really move from whatever they had drugged me with as the Kings moved to the Elders, who joined the discussion this time, in a corner talking heatedly with one another. I couldn’t control my breathing anymore…my emotions anymore. Because, I honestly didn’t give a shit about any other ramifications, except for the obvious. My friends, the Prodigies, all of them sitting across from me, utterly mute, and still. And my lover, the man who I had learned his real smile, his real laugh, his serious mien, his brutal devotion for his people, the one man in my romantic life, the one who made my heart swell and my stomach turn at varying degrees. All of whom I had tried to keep this damning information from, it being something…one might definitely not look past.
Gut dropping to the bottom of hell, my chest heaved as slow tears began to trickle down my cheeks, joining the sweat on my face, while my chest burned in fear of losing the Prodigies or Elder Merrick, the few right things in my life, but more importantly, of having hurt them. Bit by bit, I lifted my teary gaze across the room. All four stared at me from under hooded gazes, expressions wiped clean of any emotion. I sucked in a shaky breath, mumbling on a sob, “I’m sorry. All of you, I’m so sorry!” I blinked through the tears, mumbling through a choke, “I’m so sorry to anyone here.” I couldn’t say his name aloud, and I hated it.
“Be quiet!” King Samson shouted at me, his tone clearly furious and stressed.
My mouth slammed shut, and I quickly dropped my tearful gaze back to my lap, away from their expressions of nothing, the tears cooled as they dripped down onto my shirt, little splotches of darker black appearing on the material while my heart churned, burning inside my chest. Minutes passed in my heartache, hearing nothing but my heartbeat inside my ears. The sound of desolation, the churning impact of hurting those I cared for, the real ramifications now a reality of being with someone from the past settling heavy on me, because I knew it might not be something I could forgive if the situations were reversed if any of them had hidden this big bad truth from me, not to mention…it was dangerous.
I blinked through the tears, seeing King Samson’s face in front of mine, the Kings having moved back at some point, the Elders back against their places on the wall, both of them rubbing their faces, and King Samson’s expression had altered, and he watched me with quiet eyes, asking softly, “Are you alone here?”
My voice was a mere croak. “Now I am. Thanks to you.” And, thanks to me.
His lips pinched, and he straightened, saying bluntly, “You never should have entered into any type of a relationship in your situation.”
“I should have told the truth,” I ground out. “But Elder Farrar told me not to say anything that could affect the future, so I kept my mouth shut.”
Every single King, and Elder, even after the big shock I had given them, stood frozen for a moment, and King Samson asked slowly, “Elder Farrar,” he pointed at the floor, “from this time?” He watched me warily, warning me. “Be careful what you say.”
“Yes, Elder Farrar from this time. You all know I know him. When I first came back to this time, not of my own free will, I went in search for him to take me back. When I found him, he told me he couldn’t. Only Elder Harcourt could, but Elder Harcourt is even more fucking elusive than spirit Elementals. He’s, apparently, only found when he wants to be.”
King Samson nodded absently.
“Anyway, Elder Farrar stated that he believed I was meant to be here. In this time, otherwise, Elder Harcourt would have found me, known I wasn’t supposed to be here, and taken me back.” My jaw clenched. “So, I was stuck here. I can admit I was depressed for a while, but I got over it before I blew my brains out. I started living again, finding something I never expected to find or experienced before.” A damn tear trickled down my cheek. “And now, it’s all fucking ruined.” I glared at King Samson. “Thank you for that.”
“Truth to all,” King Townsend stated in wonder, staring at me a bit dazed like all the Kings were.
No one said a word for long moments, so I stared between them, nowhere near in control of myself right now, chest burning, my lungs working in overtime as my heart pumped way too quickly.
King White finally broke the silence, asking King Samson, “Is what she said accurate? Can only Elder Harcourt take her back to her time?”
“Yes,” King Samson stated slowly, running his hands through his golden hair. “Elder Farrar would be next in line,” he shook his head, “but he’s not powerful enough yet. Not old enough.” He paused, his gaze flying to me, his mouth opening, eyes widening.
Instantly, I interjected, knowing what he was going to ask. “No, living here a hundred years until he’s old enough would not help me.”
He blinked, and then held up a quick hand. “Don’t answer questions like that. We shouldn’t know the answers.” Eyes to the ceiling as he ran his hands through his hair again. “And Elder Farrar,” a pause, “I have no clue how you really found him, by the by,” a throat clearing, then he was back on track, “he was correct. Elder Harcourt would have found you if you weren’t supposed to be here.” A shake of his head, golden gaze to me. “Tell me this much, because it may help. Did a Mage, in a completely unheard of act, bring you back?”
My lips pinched. “Yes.”
King Samson teetered a hand. “The truth, but not completely.”
King Samson appeared pensive for a moment, and then waved a hand absently at the Shifter King. “It doesn’t matter.” Eyes on me. “Can you seek out this same individual, or individuals, to take you back?”
“No, he went back without me when a bullet stopped—”
I stared wide-eyed at the hand over my mouth, King Samson having moved damn quickly, and he stated slowly, “Too much information. Keep it simple.”
“Okay,” I mumbled against his breaking hand. When he lowered it, I stated honestly, “I’m okay being here now.” I paused, my chest aching fiercely. “Or, I was before. But, either way, I’ve come to grips with being here in this time.” Another pause as I peered down at the cuffs I still wore, and back up to the Kings. “Now that you know why I have no past, or why I don’t exist, what type of Mystical I am, and I’m not here with any damn malicious intent toward any of you, can you get me and the Prodigies out of these freaking cuffs?”
The Kings concurred, but King White ordered gruffly before moving to do so, “Everyone stays. Don’t even think about leaving because we’re not through talking.”
Hell, I still couldn’t move, and it wasn’t because of the cuffs, so I had no clue how anyone was going to move with the drugs in their system…until I saw each Prodigy slowly stand as the cuffs were removed from their wrists, Fergus yanking the gag from his mouth, tossing it on the ground before cracking his back to lean back against the wall, arms crossed, ankles spread, green curls dangling down around his hooded eyes, hiding his gaze, and expression further as he stared at me across the room…exactly as each of the Prodigies did. Dark gaze, golden gaze, blue gaze, all three hooded and cold on me. King White removed my cuffs last, and I instantly felt my Core flare to life…but dammit, I still couldn’t move, and I asked quickly, “What the hell did you drug us with?”
“Just a mild sedative,” King Bridges muttered, waving an absent hand as he began pacing.
Instant. “For a Mystical or a Com?”
Everyone stopped to look at me, King Bridges eyebrows puckered, and he stated slowly, “A Mystical, of course.”
“Of course,” I muttered under my breath, and tried pushing a bit of my power…and nothing.
Tried again…and nothing, the drug overpowering my system, not having been exercising the use of my power unless it happened in bed with Cain, my body already drained from the broken bones, and such.
“Is there an issue?” King White asked calmly as he threw the handcuffs into the silvered cabinet.
My voice was bland, blasé, even if a little raw, tears still choking me. “I’ll be fine.”
King Bridges forehead crinkled. “I gave her an even smaller dosage than the other four because of her weight.”
“I’ll be fine, so please move along in whatever you’re going to say, because, as everyone here I’m sure knows, mum’s the word for a spirit Elemental,” I stated coolly, keeping the answer relatively simple.
And…everyone in this room was breaking my heart all over again as they peered at me…like a stranger from under hooded lids…everyone, absolutely everyone.
So, sitting frozen on the couch for the next hour while I slowly started to move bits of my body, trying not to burst into tears as they continued staring at me as they were, the Kings talked endlessly about the perils of knowing the future, trying to change the future, the temptation to know the future, and ordering each of the Prodigies to never tell another soul I was from the future. Then the danger my life could be in with the information I had inside my brain, to the point, the Kings then stalled, going into a discussion themselves about spelling me to forget the future, but since it wasn’t a Law, and when I kindly interrupted, threatening to make them forget they even knew this information—in a roundabout way—they instantly moved past that issues when King Samson said I was telling the truth, and continued on in their long discussion of the threat that was…me.
At the end, when each of them ran out of things to say and dismissed us, the Kings probably sporting a few new wrinkles from their impassioned speeches, I stood on shaking legs, gripping the arm of the couch carefully, making sure I could stand alone, because that was what I was, alone. I lifted my black purse with the pink skull on it, placing it over my shoulder, and walked calmly, and carefully, from the mansion to my car. No one stopping me as I went.