Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5) (26 page)

“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!”

“Yes, ladies and gentleman.”
The funky Mage reporter came back onscreen, the mud wrestling video finished.
“You’ve guessed correctly. The castrator would be none other than your next Queen Elemental.”
His brows waggled.
“And I have it on good authority for those of you who are wondering, she did, indeed, spend the night with my good friend the announcer.”
He winked.

A commercial came on.

Ever so slowly, King Collins raised a hand and turned off the television.

The only noise in the room was his continually ringing phone. Until he put a hand into his pocket, turning it off. He was not looking at me.

Realizing my hand was still over my mouth, I quickly dropped it and cleared my throat.

I tried to meet this head-on by placing the blame directly on him. “They never would have known it was me if you hadn’t called this morning announcing who you were and who I was.” I flicked a finger at the black screen. “You couldn’t tell there, but my hair was spelled black, and I used a different name.”

“Yes.” King Zeller cleared his throat. “So we heard.”

I waved an irritated hand at him but kept my attention on my King. “Another name.”

King Collins began rubbing his forehead. Staring at the ground, he asked in a very soft voice, “Are there any other videos from last night I need to be aware of?”

I waved a pointed finger at the screen. “I didn’t even know that one was out there.”

Slow, quiet words. “Is. There. More?”

My lips pinched. “Not that I know of.”

More rubbing of his forehead. “I heard multiple voices this morning over the line.” Rubbing of forehead. “How many eyewitness accounts might there be of your time
after
the illegal contest?”

I blinked. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

Brown, cool eyes flicked to me for the first time, holding my gaze. “How many fucking people am I going to have to shut up over this?”

I exhaled on a bittersweet laugh. “Oh, God.” I held my stomach as I chuckled. “Fuck.” I shook my head, staring him right in the eyes. “Staying here with you is a test to my damn patience.”

I continued chuckling and stood, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward. My tone changed as I growled, “Did it ever fucking occur to you to ask me if anything actually happened, instead of automatically assuming I did as that report alluded to, or what you thought you overheard this morning?” My fingers gripped the table, curling because I wanted to hit him so badly. “One day you will apologize to me for every fucking assumption and lack of trust you’ve had for me so far. And you’d better fucking pray I accept it, because right now, especially after yesterday, you’d be the last one I’d save in a fight.”

My mouth snapped shut as I realized what I had just said to a man I respected.

His jaw clenched and he jerked forward, grabbing my bicep and yanking me harshly away from the table. A furious zap of his power jolted through my body, a tiny cry emitting past my lips before I bit it down. I gritted my teeth through the pain while he continued pulling me from the room. His icy power fluctuated through my body. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, jerking me to a halt next to him when a tiger rounded the corner.

Tristan’s teeth were bared. A low, bone-chilling growl reverberated in his throat as he deliberately crouched, his eyes intent on King Collins.

Through gritted teeth, I choked, “Tristan, no.” His eyes flicked to me then quickly back to King Collins. “My fault.” I sucked in a harsh breath, my arms trembling from King Collins’s alarming power. “This is due.”

Tristan continued growling, not really caring what I had to say.

The One’s overly lazy drawl drifted from the table. “Tristan, stand down.”

Tristan moved to the side, sitting proudly, his growl cutting off.

But his teeth were still bared at my King.

King Collins jerked forward, continuing to yank me from the room. He didn’t let up on the power he was pushing, silently telling me just how furious he was.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sandpaper would have rubbed less than my tone. “How kind of you to invite me.”

Brown eyes flicked to me, narrowing. King Collins returned his attention to where we were walking through the Elemental section. “I didn’t have to, Prodigy. Remember that.”

I barely withheld my snort. I had been ‘grounded’ for two days for my filmed stunt on television. “And how wrong would that be? After all, I gave you every single avenue available to make this happen.” We were currently on our way to a conference room where the Royals and all the spirit Elementals were. It was time for the One to obtain the whereabouts of Philip Masterson and Jacob Angel.

“Do you want to go back to your room?” he asked, his tone clipped in irritation. “Are you going to continue to be disrespectful toward me?”

“If you don’t speak, probably not,” I mumbled. His eyes flared, and I quickly held up my hands. “Sorry. That just tumbled out. Smart-ass, you know? I’ll be the good little Prodigy while I’m
released
from my room.” That I could easily escape from it, I left unmentioned.

He grumbled under his breath. Eventually, his steps smoothed out and he walked at a steadier pace that was less like speed walking. “Just so you know, the One’s not in a very good mood today. Last night he received a phone call that apparently upset him.” His hands waved wildly. “I’m sure you felt it, because the whole damn Manor shook. It frightened the staff and the Shifter drifters.”

“Is that why you came to get me for this?”

“I make the rules here, not him. I came for you because you deserve to be here.”

I nudged his arm. “You like me, don’t you?”

“Quiet, smart-ass,” he muttered, but he placed an arm around my shoulder. “I should never talk ill about the dead, but between you and my last Prodigy,” a rough squeeze of my shoulder, “I choose you.”

My smile was genuine. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He kissed my forehead before we turned the corner, his arm instantly dropping when we came into view of the glass paneled conference room. The whole group was inside. He tilted his head toward the end of the room. “Elder Farrar did a good job disguising him, don’t you think?”

My brows puckered in confusion as I peered in that direction. “Christ, he’s going to create a mob.” I picked up my pace, marching into the room and waggling a finger in the One’s direction. My incredulous eyes were on Elder Farrar. “Are you kidding? You call that a damn disguise?” I waved a huge hand at the One’s ‘hidden’ form. “All that says is: Fuck me now and ask my name later.” I threw my arms wide. “What the hell are you thinking?” My eyes narrowed, a thought coming to mind. “Are you trying to get him killed?”

Silence followed my furious outburst.

“Is that what this look says?” the One drawled to Reese standing next to him.

“I wouldn’t know,” Reese deadpanned. “You’re not my type.”

Elder Farrar’s lips twitched. “Ms Jules, there’s certainly nothing wrong with his look—”

I instantly waved a hand, cutting him off. “Bullshit.” I jammed a finger in the One’s direction. “Make him old. Make him look like a Com. Or even an unremarkable woman. But for God’s sake, don’t give him black hair, more tattoos, and dress him in fucking thousand-dollar jeans and a black leather jacket.” I stared at the Elder like he was crazy, because he was acting like a moron right now. “Women and men will flock to him. He won’t be able to blend in and do what’s needed. I guaran-fucking-tee it.”

“Maybe she’s right,” Queen Ruckler murmured absently, staring at the One. He looked like every woman’s naughty fantasy. Her head cocked, her professional gaze running over him from head to toe. “I saw the staff eyeing him, and it sure as hell wasn’t to ask if he needed more towels.”

I crossed my arms, my point proven.

The One cleared his throat. “Actually, one very kind earth Elemental did ask if I needed extra towels.”

Dry words from Queen Ruckler. “Yes, I overheard.” Red brows quirked. “Right before she asked if she could use one after she had joined you in the shower.”

I choked, pounding on my chest, then I waggled my finger at the One again. My attention homed in on the Elder Mage. “Try a middle-aged Com. One that looks like he’s on a bender. There were always plenty of those around the casinos.”

Elder Farrar’s lips trembled, and his head tilted toward the One. “That’s the look he needs.”

I blinked. “I’m confused, because that’s the get-me-fucked-then-shot look.”

Another head tilt toward the One. “That’s the look he needs.”

I might have been setting a trend with my slow blinking. “You’re stating it like it’s a fact.” Not to mention that he was repeating himself.

Again he said with calm words, “That’s the look he needs.”

I stared for a long moment. Then another. Another crept on by. “Oh.” I nodded curtly, not a hundred percent sure what the hell I was feeling, but I was pretty clear I was a mess of emotions. “Right.” Another curt nod. “I understand.” I moved fluidly, keeping my muscles loose as I sat on the closest seat.

“Well, I certainly don’t understand,” Queen Ruckler stated slowly, her blue eyes on me. “What did he just communicate to you that apparently only you understood, since I happen to agree with you about the disguise.”

Arms still crossed lightly, I shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. “The One is about ready to go on a
special
voyage to one of the swankier establishments of the Bossman’s.” My head teetered in thought, but I just shrugged and went with the blunt truth. “The ones that cater to high-end prostitution societies. The prostitutes are so talented, you not only need to have the cash to afford them, but you also have to look good. Because they pick you, not the other way around.”

Queen Ruckler picked up my previous habit of slow blinking. “That is interesting.” Another blink. “Do you already know where this establishment is?”

I gritted my teeth. “I know where most of them are, along with the rest of his businesses. But I don’t know which exact one it is. There’s too many to even guess at.” I jerked my head in the One’s direction. “As long as he’s got cash on him, he’ll be able to maneuver the area fine, appearing as he does.”

“He’s got enough in his wallet,” Elder Farrar stated evenly, glancing at the One. “Inside jacket pocket, by the way.” Mrs Damon began rummaging through her purse, and Elder Farrar’s lips really trembled. He glanced at the One again. “There’s also a small bottle of hand sanitizer in there.”

Mrs Damon glanced up from her digging, her wide eyes going to Elder Farrar. “That was very thoughtful of you.” A prim nod of her head as she zipped up her purse. “Thank you.”