The Prince of Warwood and the Fall of the King (Book 2)

by J. Noel Clinton

  The day went quickly, and Xavier found himself going out of his way to see Maggie between classes. Unfortunately, this made him late for telepathy class, the one class he never wanted to be late for, and Spencer was ticked.

  “Where have you been?” he spat.

  “I’m just a couple of minutes late. What’s the big deal?” Xavier shrugged nonchalantly.

  Wrong answer, and definitely wrong attitude. Before Xavier could blink, Spencer was in his face. “Don’t get smug with me, young man! I don’t believe your father would agree that being late for class isn’t a big deal.”

  Xavier immediately cowered. “Yes, sir. You’re right. I’m sorry, sir.” Spencer relaxed, but his ill mood lingered throughout the lesson. As a result relentless, head-splitting mental exercises followed, and when the class period finally came to an end, Xavier made a vow to visit Maggie only when their classes were on the same floor and to never ever be late for telepathy class again.

  After school, Xavier found Maggie on the academy front steps waiting for him.

  “Hi! Can I walk you home?” he asked with a grin.

  “I’d love that,” she responded, smiling shyly back.

  When she looked up at him with those enormous gray eyes and pouty pink lips, Xavier couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and kissed her, inhaling the sweet aroma of her shampoo.

  “Prince Wells!” Sir Spencer snapped. “Unless Miss Applegate has stopped breathing and you’re attempting to resuscitate her, I highly suggest the two of you separate your mouths and head on home.” Several students around them giggled.

  Blushing, Xavier looked up at Spencer’s stern face, but noticed a twinkle in the headmaster’s eyes. “Yes, sir,” he muttered.

  He took Maggie’s bag and threw it over his shoulder along with his own, and taking her hand, he led her away from the school. As they walked, Xavier began plotting the best way to steal another kiss until Maggie broke their blissful silence.

  “Xavier?” she began, and immediately he noted the slight edge to her voice. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Would you promise me not to use telepathy on me again without asking me first? It really bothers me when you do it. I mean, it should be a girl’s right to decide which thoughts she wants to share and which thoughts she would like to keep private. It bothered me this morning to find you had been listening in on my thoughts and conversations. It’s embarrassing!” She looked at him hesitantly. “Please, promise me you won’t do it again.”

  He glanced down at her sheepishly and nodded. “Okay, I promise.”

  She eyed him suspiciously and pulled him to a stop. “Wait a minute. Other than before the dance and today, you haven’t used telepathy on me any other time; have you?”

  He gaped at her and replied, his answer unconvincing even to himself, “Ah, n…no. Of course not.”

  Maggie’s eyes flared with fiery anger. “Xavier! When? When did you do it?” she spat out.

  “I didn’t!” he protested.

  “Don’t lie to me! When did you do it, Xavier? Tell me! And, I’ll know if it’s not the truth! I’m a polygrapher; I can tell when someone lies to me,” she declared, glaring at him, her hands on her hips.

  Oh, God! There was no easy way out of this. He would have to tell her. Xavier tucked his head with guilt. “Okay, yes. I’ve done it another time without you knowing, but just once! It was during…our last…dance.”

  Maggie turned as white as his hair and looked at him, horrified. “Oh, God! Xavier! How could you? How could you? You heard all my thoughts during the entire dance?”

  He looked at her, nodded, and muttered, “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Maggie turned crimson. Then, without a word, she jerked her bag from his shoulder and stomped away from him.

  “Maggie! Maggie, wait!” he called, jogging to catch up with her retreating figure.

  “NO!” she snapped, turning on him so quickly he just about ran into her. “I don’t want to hear it, sire! What you did was unforgivable! I hate you, Xavier Wells! I hate you!”

  She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her. “Maggie, let me explain!”

  “Let go of me!” she shouted, tears dropping heavily over her eyelids and down her cheeks.

  It was distressing to see Maggie so angry and to know he was the reason there were tears on her pretty face. He didn’t know what to do. In all his talk of gentleman’s etiquette, his father had failed to mention what to do if you royally messed up and ticked a girl off.

  “Please, just listen to me! Don’t be upset. It was nothing! Boys have those kinds of thoughts all the time. I know I have…”

  Maggie slapped him across the face. “You’re such a jerk! Is that supposed to make me feel better, Xavier Wells? Is it? Well, it doesn’t. It doesn’t change the fact that you betrayed my trust. You humiliated me! Just…just leave me alone!” she screeched and ran off toward home. Xavier could only watch her go, rubbing his cheek despondently.

  Chapter 14

  The Date

  Xavier didn’t go home immediately; instead he wandered into the coliseum and sat, trying to figure out how he could have handled his fight with Maggie differently. His cheek still stung where she had slapped him, and he rubbed it absent-mindedly. Okay, so he shouldn’t have listened in on her during the dance. He had tried to apologize to her, but she just wouldn’t listen. Still no closer to a solution, Xavier stood and headed home. Surely his dad would give him some good advice on how to patch things up with Maggie.

  When he entered the residence, all thoughts of having a father-son heart-to-heart talk vanished. Catherine Stokes sat in the receiving room with a glass of wine in hand, laughing at a typically boisterous and entertaining Loren.

  “Great! This day just gets better and better!” he grumbled sarcastically, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Hey, Xavier!” Loren bellowed with an enormous smile. “How did your day go?”

  “Fine,” Xavier mumbled. “Where’s Father?”

  “Hello, Xavier,” Catherine greeted sweetly from the sofa.

  Xavier ignored her. “Loren, where’s my father?” he repeated testily.

  “Upstairs. Xavier, don’t you think you’re being a bit rude? Madam Stokes…”

  He didn’t wait for Loren to finish as he barreled up the stairs and into his father’s room. Jeremiah looked up, startled at his loud, sudden entrance.

  “Hello, son. You’re a bit late getting home today,” Jeremiah stated conversationally as he pulled a tailored dress shirt over his massive shoulders and began buttoning it.

  “What’s Catherine doing here?” Xavier snapped quietly.

  Jeremiah turned to face him, tucking the tails of the shirt into his pants. His brow arched as he peered down at him. “Don’t you mean Madam Stokes?” he corrected, fastening his pants and buckling his belt.

  “Whatever,” Xavier hissed. “Why is she here, Dad?”

  “We have a date,” Jeremiah answered unevenly, turning and grabbing his jacket before facing Xavier again. “And, this is not going to happen, Xavier. You seem to be in the mood to have one of your little rows with me, but it’s not going to happen right now. We’ll discuss this when I get home.”

  Jeremiah left the room, leaving Xavier with his disheveled feelings. This only made him more disgruntled and determined. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, Xavier ran after him and blocked his descent down the steps.

  “Father! She’s not honest! She’s up to something. Even Maggie sees that! Why can’t you?” he growled.

  “Xavier, I will not do this right now!” Jeremiah repeated firmly, anger flashing across his face as he stepped around him, but Xavier refused to relent.

  “I’m telling you! She’s evil! Why can’t you see it?” he yelled, jumping into his path again.

  “Xavier!” Jeremiah barked.

  “She’s a witch! In my dream, she smiles when they beat you! I’m telling you…”

  “THAT’S
ENOUGH!” Jeremiah boomed with such intensity, it hurt Xavier’s ears.

  Xavier felt tears burning in his eyes, and he bolted to his room, slamming the door behind him and screaming with frustration.

  Jeremiah sighed weightily and looked down at Catherine, who stood at the foot of the steps.

  “Catherine,” he muttered. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

  “Oh, Jeremy, it’s not your fault! You do so much for him. I don’t know why he hates me, but maybe if I talked to him it would help,” she suggested.

  Jeremiah hesitated.

  “What could it hurt?” she asked in a sing-song voice, smiling.

  “Okay,” Jeremiah muttered wearily and gestured up the steps toward the boy’s room. “Help yourself.”

  Xavier lay on his bed crying silently into his pillow. He wasn’t sure how his day could get any worse! Then, of course, it did; Catherine came into his room.

  “Xavier?” she cooed.

  He jerked upright. “What right do you have coming into my room? I didn’t invite you! Get out!” he growled.

  “Xavier, I only want to talk,” she continued sweetly, as she breezed across the room toward his night table, where she picked up his mother’s picture.

  “I don’t care!” he spat. “Get out of my room!”

  She looked at him calmly and laid down Julia’s smiling face. “I just want to assure you that I have no intention of trying to take your mother’s place. I just want to be…”

  “You have no right to even mention her to me!” Xavier said viciously, advancing on her.

  “Xavier, isn’t there something we could do to end all this…”

  “Haven’t you heard me? I don’t care! My hatred for you has nothing to do with my mother, and it won’t end until you’re out of my father’s life! I know you’re up to something, and when I find out what, I’m going to stop you.”

  Catherine stared down at him, her sweet face melting away into an ugly snarl. Suddenly her arm shot out and she grabbed him painfully by the hair, hauling him close to her. “Now, you listen to me,” she hissed, inches from his face. “I don’t care what you say or do, little boy. You won’t be able to stop me! Your father doesn’t believe you, and he won’t until it’s too late. The Son of the Dark will come! And when he does, if you’re still alive, you and your father will be his prisoners to do with as he wishes. Most likely he will kill you both, but it will not be instantaneous. Oh, no! It will be slow and painful. Jeremiah will be the first to die. Master will torture him until he begs for mercy, but he won’t receive it.” She smirked down at him. “Master will drag it out in the most excruciating, humiliating way possible. Then he will take your father’s life bit by bit, piece by piece, one body part at a time, and all you’ll be able to do is watch and listen to his agonizing screams and know that your fate will be the same!”

  “No!” Xavier screamed, heaving Catherine away from him. She stumbled across the room, slammed against the door, and fell onto her rump. Xavier raised his hand with an electro force spinning menacingly in his palm. “Get out, you evil witch! Stay away from my father! If you don’t, I’ll kill you! You hear me? I’ll kill you!”

  She staggered to her feet with a grin. “We’ll see about that,” she whispered. She opened the door and walked out. Xavier raced to the door to shut it behind her, but stopped at the sight of his father’s worried face. Jeremiah had heard the commotion and had been on his way up the stairs. Catherine stopped him before he reached the top landing.

  “I’m sorry, Jeremy,” she began tearfully, her voice quavering, “I think I’ve only made matters worse. There’s so much anger in that little body.”

  He had to hand it to the woman; she was very good at manipulating any situation to her benefit. His father was eating out of her hands!

  “Are you okay?” Jeremiah questioned, noting her trembling body. She wavered, and he reached out to steady her.

  “Oh, yes, yes. I’m fine,” she answered, smiling unconvincingly and patting his arm.

  “What did he do?” Jeremiah asked, his voice growing.

  “Nothing…” she told him, looking up at Jeremiah apprehensively. “Oh, there’s no sense lying to you, is there? You’ll just use telepathy to learn the truth.” She sighed and continued in a rush. “He gave me a little push. That’s all. I shouldn’t have provoked him …”

  Jeremiah stormed up the steps past Catherine and stampeded toward Xavier like a raging bull. Xavier stumbled backwards into his room.

  “Jeremy! Please, don’t,” Catherine called, racing after him. “He’s just a boy. He didn’t hurt me!”

  The king was nearly through the doorway when Catherine grabbed him. “Please! Let’s just go to dinner and give the both of you some time to cool down before you do or say something you’ll regret!”

  “Oh, I can guarantee he’ll have regrets when I’m through with him,” he growled predatorily, stepping toward Xavier, but again Catherine stopped him.

  “Jeremy, please,” she pleaded, giving Xavier a triumphant smile.

  Jeremiah visibly fought to rein in his rage. Finally, his body relaxed slightly, and he turned to Catherine. “You’re right. Let’s go to dinner.” Then, he whipped around to Xavier. “YOU! You are not to leave this room while I’m out. Your dinner will be brought up to you. There will be no friends, no television, no computer, and no music! Understood?”

  Xavier muttered, “Yeah.”

  “Excuse me?” his father challenged.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll deal with you when I get home!” he promised before closing the door. Then he took Catherine’s hand and led her down the steps to the front door where Loren waited.

  “Loren, Timmins will be my security tonight. I need for you to stay with Xavier,” he ordered, as he removed his and Catherine’s coats from the cloak closet.

  “Yes, sire,” Loren responded.

  “If he gives you any of his cheekiness tonight, you have my permission to blister his butt,” Jeremiah added, helping Catherine with her coat and then pulling on his own.

  “We’ll be fine, Jer. Don’t worry. You two have a good time,” he responded, opening the door for them.

  Moments after the residence door closed behind the king and Catherine, music blared from the boy’s room. Loren shook his head and headed for the stairs. The angry lyrics swarmed out of the room as he opened the door. The boy was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his face set and angry.

  “Oi, Xavier! Could you turn that nonsense down?” Loren hollered.

  When the boy didn’t respond, Loren marched over to the stereo and punched the power button. “Your father’s gone so this attention-seeking rebellion is futile,” he noted calmly.

  Xavier sat up. “Hey! I was listening to that!” he yelled, jumping to his feet.

  “Wait a minute there, mini-might. There’s no need to give me your attitude!” Loren corrected. “But, I believe your father said no friends, no television, no computer, and no music.”

  “So? What’s he going to do? Spank me twice?” Xavier spat, stalking over to the stereo, jabbing the power button, and returning to his vegetative state on the bed.

  Loren was taken aback by the boy’s blatant defiance and felt his own temper teetering. He grabbed the power cord and yanked it out of the wall.

  “What are you doing?” Xavier yelled, stomping over to him.

  “You know, I understand how you must be feeling with your father dating,” he began testily, “but you know Catherine…”

  “Shut up, Loren! You don’t know anything about it!” he blared. “You and Father are blind idiots!”

  “Xavier, that’s enough!” Loren growled. “Catherine is not a threat to you…”

  “Bull!” he yelled. “You know what, Loren? You don’t have a freaking clue what’s going on here. So just, sod off!”

  Loren grabbed him and hissed, “I’m only trying to talk to you, Xavier. Why do I get this attitude?” When Xavier rolled h
is eyes dismissively in response, Loren thought he would strangle the boy. “AND,” he added forcibly, “if you don’t cool your jets, your temper won’t be the only thing that’ll need cooling when I’m through with you.”

  “You wouldn’t! You’re not my father! You have no…”

  Loren’s actions interrupted Xavier’s ranting as he spun the boy, walloped his bottom, and spun him back to face him. “Attitude adjusted?” he growled.

  He looked up at the general smugly. “You’ve got to be kidding! That didn’t even hurt! Beck was right, you hit like an eighty-year old lady! “

  Definitely the wrong thing to say! Xavier didn’t realize how wrong until he saw Loren’s normally mischievous, glittering eyes turn into two icy orbs. He could almost feel the chill from them, and he gulped. Loren jerked him roughly around, pinned him against his left leg and hip, and struck his backside repeatedly. Oh no, it did hurt, and he quickly regretted uttering anything to the contrary.

  Finally, Loren released the sobbing boy and looked down at him sadly. “Attitude adjusted now?” he asked softly.

  Xavier glared up at the man accusingly. “I thought you were my friend!”

  “Xavier, I am! What kind of friend would let you go off your rocker like that without reigning you in?” he asked, reaching for him.

  Xavier jerked away from him, crying. “No! I don’t care! I don’t care. I hate you! I hate Father! I hate all of you!”

  “Xavier?” Loren consoled, stepping toward him.

  “NO! Please, just leave! Leave me alone. Please!” he pleaded, throwing himself onto his bed and howling into his pillow.

  As much as he wanted to comfort him, Loren obeyed the boy’s wishes and left the room.

  Chapter 15

  The Epidemic

  When Jeremiah returned from his date, Loren sat with his feet propped up next to the fire and a stiff drink in hand. Jeremiah smirked drily at Loren’s bereaved face.

  “That bad an evening, eh?” Jeremiah stated, throwing himself onto the sofa next to his friend.