“Or that’s how they keep your talent from becoming strong,” she muttered. “If you’re trying to limit a waveweaver’s talent, that sounds like a good way to do it. That said, it’s also a good way to teach control. If you can stop your talent from manifesting, you can also push your talent to the limits, but from my understanding of your situation, it wasn’t to help grow your talent.”
I shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Your Highness?” Kevin asked, and it amazed me he could convey so many questions in just speaking her title.
“Tell me why you reacted like you did first, Kevin.”
“Plastic explosives tend to contain small amounts of mineral oils and similar substances, which can be detected by sensitive waveweavers. It would detect to his senses as something like oil but not—something denser than oil. There are heavy crudes that can be detected in the same fashion, but none of those crudes should be here. Jack, how sensitive is your detection skill with waveweaving?”
“I can find a dead body in an avalanche,” I admitted. “I’m sent on recovery operations as often as I am on rescues.”
Recoveries could be just as dangerous as rescues, but I believed in the importance of securing closure for the families of those who’d fallen to nature’s fury.
“Your range?”
I considered his question and wondered how it applied to the odd substance I detected. “A thousand feet on a good day, but I’ll be useless for a day or two afterwards. That only works somewhere remote, though.”
“Anyone who says you don’t have a royal talent has no idea what they’re talking about,” the RPS agent muttered. “It would be worthwhile to confirm what he’s detecting, Your Highness. Nothing ruins someone’s day quite as much as explosives on a plane—or anywhere near planes and jet fuel. There is a chance he’s just sensing the jet fuel, but is that a risk we really want to take? If he can pinpoint the source, we can send in a dog for a confirmation.”
I’d been around enough aircraft to know how jet fuel felt to my waveweaving talent, and whatever was in that building, it wasn’t jet fuel.
Melody took hold of my wrist, muttered curses under her breath, and rubbed the silver band between her fingers until she reached the seam. After a few moments, she popped it open. “We’ll try removing one first. That should put you at a mid-rate talent access, Jack. I’d rather not unlock your entire talent in case you are flaring—and even this much might be dangerous.”
I breathed deeper, as though the removal of the bracelet had somehow cleared my lungs. Closing my eyes, I relaxed, taking my time to isolate the known sources of water and oil until I found the oddity that continued to brush against my senses. I pointed. “It’s over there.”
“Size?”
“Small enough I’m not sure why I detected it with the suppressor on,” I admitted, and after taking a few minutes to consider the strength of my reaction to it, I splayed my hands and formed a circle approximately the size of a basketball. “Maybe this large? It’s a smaller, concentrated source.”
“Thoughts, Melody?”
“Jack strained his talent working with fluids outside of the normal when he was on the tanker. It’s possible that when he exerted his talent, he unconsciously has continued searching for oil-like substances despite the suppressors. That can also happen during a standard flare, but that’s uncommon. Common flares are typically surges of power.” Melody frowned and eyed the second suppressor I wore. “How does your talent feel, Jack?”
“That substance is making me edgy. That’s what it feels like,” I muttered.
“One of the first things we learn in the RPS is to trust that edgy feeling.” Kevin lifted his hand and reported on the situation, also putting in a request for a bomb-sniffing dog and an earthweaver.
“An earthweaver?” I asked.
“The plastics in the explosives can be detected by earthweavers. A good one can defuse them by removing the blasting caps or otherwise disabling the explosive. It depends on the type of bomb, of course. I am no expert on the subject.”
“Yet you knew, from that vague description, there might be a bomb?”
“The wise royals tell us when something seems weird, and the wiser ones tell us how something seems weird. You are not the first strong waveweaver to have detected a bomb. Fortunately, the bomb is not located with our plane, which is already out on the tarmac and being checked over. But if there is a bomb here, it’s safer for everyone for it to be dealt with now. It won’t take long for a team to arrive.”
“And what if it is a bomb?” I asked.
Bombs were not under the purview of search and rescue—at least not until after they detonated.
“We clear the airfield, get rid of the device, do a thorough sweep of the place, and resume normal operations. There’ll be an investigation to determine how the device got here, too.” Kevin’s expression darkened. “This specific airfield has been under tight security, so if it is a device, there’s a possibility of it being an inside job. The direction you pointed leads me to believe someone infiltrated France’s staff. Our RPS provides security, pilot, and crew for our plane.”
Great. I’d heard of rogue RPS agents before; without fail, every kingdom had at least one incident, although the attempted assassination of Illinois’s heir had been the most recent—and troubling—of them all.
I looked Melody in the eyes and said, “Do you need to be rescued? Because seriously? I don’t know how you deal with this all the time.”
“I wouldn’t say I deal with it all the time.”
I raised a brow at that.
“Just most of it,” she admitted with a shrug. “You get used to it. If he thought we were in any danger, I’d be relocated roughly to a safe location.”
“Moving both of you at once would be a test of even my skills.” Kevin nodded towards an empty tarmac. “I’d be more comfortable if we stood over there for the duration.”
Melody obeyed. I hesitated, and Kevin gave me a companionable slap on the back and pushed until I went where he wanted me to go.
Sparrow mewed a protest.
On the tarmac, everything seemed normal enough, but I was aware of the moment someone led a brown and black dog into the building I’d pointed at. My doctor, while I was distracted watching what was going on, snapped the dampening bracelet around my wrist again.
Amused, I watched her fiddle with it to her satisfaction. The sense of the substance remained, although I appreciated a respite from ignoring the other sources of volatile fluids nearby. “I can tell you, with certainty, that substance isn’t jet fuel.”
“It’s gelignite,” Kevin announced. “It’s an explosive jelly, fortunately stable as far as explosives go, and the first plastic explosive to be developed. I suspect you’re detecting it because of its borderline properties.”
As I could fixate on Jell-O, and consume it with alarming enthusiasm, I didn’t argue with Kevin’s theory. “They found it already?”
“The bomb dogs are trained, and to them, the stuff stinks. I wouldn’t know if it stinks to us, as I would rather be over here than over there. There are RPS agents with better training in explosives.”
“What are you trained for?”
“I can handle most other threats without issue.”
“I have a sudden need to prove I’m not actually helpless,” I muttered.
Kevin cracked a grin at that. “You’re helpless until your doctor removes your suppressors.”
“And I only removed the one out of necessity. As you’re flaring rather than suffering from other symptoms, I will dig out a different set of suppressors from my bag once this situation has been dealt with. But, and I mean this, Mr. Alders, if you remove them without it being a life-or-death situation, we will have words.”
According to her tone, I would be in a life-or-death situation if I didn’t heed her warning. I stared at Kevin. “I think she’s more dangerous than the explosives.”
The RPS agent somehow forced his expression to som
ething closer to neutral, but I suspected he laughed at me. “You’re a smart gentleman, Mr. Alders.”
“I’m also rather amazed over how relaxed you both are about this.”
Melody shrugged. “Last week, it was a fertilizer bomb at one of the clinics.”
“The week before, it was a half-cocked idiot with a hunting rifle,” Kevin added.
Melody’s expression turned thoughtful, and she said, “Two weeks prior, an idiot with a lighter and a can of hair spray. Or was that three weeks ago?”
“Three weeks,” the RPS agent replied.
All right. I had vastly underestimated how much bullshit royals had to deal with in their lives. “Dare I ask what happened the week before?”
“My mother wanted to marry me off to a New Yorker.”
I considered the various degrees of threats the past few weeks had held for Melody, and I ranked the New Yorker as the most terrifying. “Are you sure you don’t need to be rescued, Melody? It’s sounding more and more like you need to be rescued. What happened prior to that? Please tell me nothing happened prior to that.”
“My mother wanted me to marry either a Californian, an elite from Texas, one of His Royal Majesty of Montana’s cousins, a Canadian, or someone I’d rather not think about right now.”
With those choices, no wonder she’d tossed the idea around of picking someone like me. Compared to them, I was likely an attractive candidate. “I know how to clean up after myself, and I understand how to hold a stable job. Beyond that, you’d be better off financially with the others, but I’m concerned about the ‘someone you’d rather not think about right now.’” I pointed in the direction of the hangar where I’d located the explosives with my talent. “When you say things like that, I feel things like this start to happen.”
“That’s always a possibility,” she admitted. “I prefer to blame all of my life’s inconveniences on my uncle, however.”
“While he sounds like a creep, isn’t that a dangerous way of thinking?”
Kevin’s smile, while grim, made me believe I had the right idea. “Emotional blinders are an issue in any investigation, Mr. Alders.”
“So, let me see if I understand this. There are six men, including a New Yorker, who have recently been rejected, and following these rejections, there have been various attempts to kill you, Melody?”
She shrugged. “That sounds about right. It’s normal. My mother is always trying to sell me off to some man. A single princess my age? In their eyes, it’s criminal. How could I possibly be happy without a man around? And, because my mother is my mother, only a prince will do. Obviously.”
“I only fit one of those requirements,” I reminded her. “If it makes you feel better, I will confirm that I am a man.”
“I’m in a rebellious phase right now,” she replied with a bright and cheery smile. “You’re also close to my age, which is a very important criteria. One of the men my mother was considering is thirty years older than me. He might see me naked and have a heart attack.”
Some things I didn’t want to know, and that was one of them. To drive the thought of Melody naked out of my mind, I concentrated on the minor puzzle of an adult woman going through a rebellious phase. How did an adult have a rebellious phase? Then again, I couldn’t talk.
I lived and breathed rebellion. I’d fled the Royal States so I could use my magic while doing a dangerous job. When my parents found out I’d fallen into a royal mess, they’d have words for me along with a possible disowning.
Worse, I’d issued them an invite to join me in the royal mess I’d fallen into.
Life in the near future would not be peaceful, quiet, or fun.
Sparrow mewed in her carrier, and she pawed at the mesh door of her fleece-lined prison. I adjusted the strap on my shoulder and gave the kitten my attention. “Soon, Sparrow. I have your harness and leash here. Once they clear us to get on the plane, you can get out of there, okay?”
According to Sparrow’s despairing cry, she didn’t find my offer to be at all acceptable.
“If she starts to stress, I can calm her down,” Melody promised.
“Doctor and cat whisperer. Is there anything you don’t do?”
“The dishes,” she replied in a solemn tone.
“It’s a good thing you’re a princess.” I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t even have a dishwasher. My apartment’s too small.”
Melody’s eyes widened. “You wash your dishes by hand?”
“As I like living dangerously sometimes, I don’t use dish gloves when I do it.”
“Risk evaluation, Kevin?” Melody asked, and she planted her hands on her hips. “Just how dangerous is dishwashing without gloves?”
“The only way to be certain of his safety would be to sequester him in a suite at the palace and allow the trained professionals to handle the dishwashing,” the agent replied, his expression and tone so neutral I burst into laughter.
“I think I can handle some pesky dishes without help or the use of gloves.”
Melody looked me in the eyes and asked, “But are you sure?”
“I’ve been doing it for years without serious mishap.”
“That implies you’ve had a mishap.”
“I live in France. I’ve lost a wineglass or three in a sink of dishes. When they break, it can get messy. I’ve only needed stitches once, and honestly, I stitched myself and just had the team medic double-check my work later. He gave me an antibiotic just to be safe, but when I stitch something, it stays stitched.”
“You stitched yourself?” Melody’s brows rose. “I can’t tell if I’m impressed or horrified. What did you use for painkillers?”
I mimicked her expression. “I used painkillers?”
Melody raised her hand, rubbed her temple, and sighed. “Kevin, please add a note to Mr. Alders’s file that he is a manly man and classifies as a danger to himself due to ego, pride, and an unfortunate knowledge of medical treatments.”
“I’ll mark into his file that he is skilled with first-aid treatments and should undergo additional training to make sure he’s on par with Maine’s first responders.”
“That’s not what I said!”
“But that’s what you’re getting,” the RPS agent replied. “You’ll get used to it, Mr. Alders. With one sole exception, Maine’s royal family takes their patients quite seriously.”
“I’d hope so. They wouldn’t be good doctors if they didn’t.”
“They tend to take a too personal interest in their patients.”
“Better than not taking enough of an interest,” I countered.
Kevin chuckled. “Unless you want to find yourself a potential candidate for becoming Her Highness’s husband, I would venture with care.”
“Kevin!” Melody protested.
“What? You gave me a direct order to be honest with you about situations that involve your wellbeing. This situation involves your wellbeing. I would like to remind you that the RPS has an active interest in protecting a royal line’s succession. You are a serious contender for Maine’s throne, and you’re notorious in your distrust of most men.” Kevin stared me in the eyes and said, “Don’t let Her Highness fool you, Mr. Alders. In most situations dealing with men, with limited exception, she’s prickly on a good day, and she generally treats men like they’re a threat to her wellbeing. She cares deeply for her patients, but it’s obvious to trained RPS agents when she doesn’t trust someone—and she rarely trusts men. Considering how royalty tends to operate, she is not wrong to be wary. But the RPS is responsible for ensuring the romantic interests of unattached members of the royal family go unobstructed. She cares about her patients, but she has a stern reputation of keeping her distance from men.”
She did? Nothing I’d seen indicated she had any misgivings about treating me. Nothing I’d ever heard of in rumor or news about the RPS indicated that they took an active interest in the love lives of their principals. I didn’t know what to think about his claim Melody treated me diffe
rently from most men—or why. “Since when?”
“Since the civil war in North Dakota, and since Illinois almost losing its heir due to obstructions. The RPS has also adopted new rulings in case of situations like theirs, where a probable bonding has happened. It also happened, in a way, to Montana’s line, although their obstructions were personal choice and necessity as much as it was society’s prejudices working against them.”
“I’m lost,” I confessed. “I’d heard someone had attempted to assassinate Illinois’s heir and that he was considering abdicating due to health reasons, but I hadn’t paid close attention. I heard there was an uprising in North Dakota, but I thought that was a matter of the heir overthrowing the king with her chosen consort. As for Montana, they worked for null rights. Or do you mean the attempt on Her Royal Majesty’s life?”
Even I had heard about the hired shooter who’d almost killed Montana’s queen.
“You’re out of the loop on politics, I see. I’ll begin with North Dakota. The heir, now the queen, bonded at an early age to her husband. Her father obstructed their bond and forced his parents to ship him off and essentially disown him. King Adam reached the breaking point, and civil war broke out as a result. Montana’s case was less of an obstruction and more of a case of making difficult choices for the good of everyone else. In Illinois, His Royal Highness abdicated due to obstructions with his bonded partner. The symptoms of a bonding were missed until following the incident. There have been other issues in other kingdoms recently making it clear that young royalty need to be given more consideration in their romantic pursuits.”
Melody huffed. “You’re being absurd, Kevin.”
“It’s not absurd if it’s the truth, Your Highness.” The RPS agent challenged Melody with his tone, and while the woman wrinkled her nose, she didn’t correct the man.
I considered the situation. We stood on the tarmac, waiting for a bomb squad to disarm and remove explosives from a nearby building with no apparent care in the world. Melody had taken the incident completely in stride, and her RPS agent didn’t seem concerned, either. Of the three of us, I likely worried more than they did—combined.
Bonds Page 9
