I expected drama and fireworks if that was the case. “This sounds like a disaster in the making.”
“No. She did her fair share of running and hiding. She’ll understand. Just expect her to be particularly blunt about coming out of hiding. Once you come out of the shadows, it’s almost impossible to return. It’s better to make the most of your situation. But, I think you’ll find your place in the Royal States without much of a challenge. Expect offers. I recommend against accepting any to start with. Use Jack as an excuse. By the time he’s finished recovering, you’ll have had time to understand the dynamics of elite and royal society.” The king chuckled, and his attention drifted to the door.
Dinner arrived without fanfare, and I was relieved by the lack of table rituals. I expected one of my co-workers had revealed my love of seared, rare steak. The lobster, served on a bed of rice with enough garlic butter to sink a battleship, also demanded my immediate attention.
“A life lesson, ladies,” the king announced. “Don’t come in the way of a hungry man and his steak, and your brother is one hungry man.”
“He was born hungry,” my mother announced. “Mind your manners, Jack.”
I always minded my manners, but as I didn’t want to antagonize my mother further, I obeyed the rules she’d hammered into me from an early age: a gentleman didn’t choke down his food like some starved stray. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied to appease her before focusing my attention to the steaming heaven on my plate.
There’d be time enough later for talk.
Chapter Eleven
Somehow, Melody talked me into meeting her cats in her suite, which was right down the hall from mine. I wondered at that, but a large steak, lobster, and all the clam chowder I could eat did me in. I lacked the energy or will to resist her. Sparrow rode on my shoulder, purring her furry little head off.
At Melody’s invitation, I sat on a comfortable armchair in her sitting room while she greeted her cats, all of them Maine coons who demanded attention in loud meows. Sparrow took over my lap and watched the other cats with her ears pinned back.
The next thing I knew, I had a crick in my neck, I was covered in cats, and Sparrow pawed at my nose from her perch on the top of my head. Someone had neglected to inform the five other Maine coons they didn’t actually fit on my lap. One, a black and white tuxedo, slept on top, sprawled out with its head dangling off the chair’s arm.
Sparrow captured my nose with her front paws, and I deemed it a miracle she opted against digging her sharp little claws into my flesh.
“Good morning, Jack,” Melody announced, and she strode across the sitting room wearing an uncomfortably gauzy nightgown while toweling her damp hair dry. “You refused to budge, and as the cats liked using you as a bed, I decided you could stay the night. I brought in a change of clothes for you, and you’re welcome to use my bathroom. Father decided we’re headed to Montana right after the ball game tonight. Sparrow is coming with us, as is Cattus Horribilus.”
“Cattus Horribilus?”
Melody pointed at the black and white cat sprawled every which way over my lap and the other cats. “That one is Cattus Horribilus, or Mr. Asshole for short. The rest of the jerks get to stay home, and they’ll probably throw a party.”
“What is your cat’s name, really?”
“His name is Cat.” Melody grimaced. “I made the mistake of letting my little sister name him, and she named him Cat. I had to do something with it, so whenever she’s not around, he’s Cattus Horribilus or Mr. Asshole. When my little sister’s around, I call him Cat, but then all five of them come running. They will also respond to ‘Hey, you!’ and other things, as half the time I don’t remember their names anyway.”
All five seemed perfectly content to use me as a bed, and they ignored their owner in favor of sleep. I also bet she knew exactly what their names were and was yanking my chain for the fun of it.
“Will Mr. Asshole maul me if I pet him?”
“Nope, but he might sink his claws into your very soul and make you his slave. Misery is the calico, and she will also make you her slave given a chance. Marauder is the orange one, and he steals food from everyone else if allowed, so he has to be locked in the bathroom at dinner time, or he’ll get fat. Pretty Baby is the silver tabby, and Mooch is the white one.”
As I was of the opinion all cats came with the innate ability to claim human souls, I took my chances and stroked the oversized feline. Mr. Asshole mewed, rolled over, grabbed my hand in his front paws, and smooshed his face into my palm.
The other four slept on without a care in the world.
“Is this how he gets away with using the other cats as a bed? I find it’s a convincing argument,” I confessed.
“Basically. He’s a lover, and he cried the entire time I was gone, so I can’t leave him behind this time. Dad’s probably going to get tired of them whining after a night or two and pack the other four assholes up and send them to Montana on a second flight. He thinks we’ll be gone for more than a few days. I wasn’t supposed to be gone for more than three nights when in England, which is why they stayed home. We try to take our babies with us whenever we can. They’re used to traveling. In the meantime, they’ll serve as cat ambassadors for your family. They saw them yesterday and fell in love. I’m thinking we’ll give them each a kitten from the current litters. I might ask Antoinette to come visit and help place them with kittens.”
“Would you?” I asked.
“Sure. She’d love it, and it’d be a good way to get her out of France for a while. Want me to invite your pilot friend, too? Last I talked to Antoinette, I was concerned she might be taking him home with her. I bet they could be here before your family leaves for Montana, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were invited to join us.”
My brows rose at that. “You mean Louis?”
“Yes, him. He seems like the adventurous sort.”
“He’d probably like it, especially if Antoinette has been keeping him company.”
“I have it on good authority Antoinette is keeping him company.” Melody grinned, wrapped her hair in the towel, and strode over, rescuing me from her cats. She started with the enslaving Misery, who purred the instant the princess touched her. Once freed of all cats except Sparrow, Melody pointed at an open door behind me. “Bathroom is through my bedroom, and I put your clothes on the vanity. Take Sparrow in with you. There’s a food and water dish for her beside your clothes, and she knows how to get into the cabinet with the litter box. Take your time. I recommend a soak, but I don’t recommend falling asleep in the tub, as I’ll come retrieve you myself in half an hour if I must. We need to get ready to go to the game. As part of my quest to teach you the joys of baseball, we’re going to the stadium early.”
Peeling my kitten off my head, I cradled her before mumbling a thanks and retreating into the relative safety of the princess’s bedroom on route for the bathroom. I expected neat and tidy but got a showcase of discarded clothes and lingerie, which I did my best to ignore.
She liked the color black too much for my own good.
The bathroom did a good job of distracting me from the issue of having ventured through Melody’s private space while dodging her discarded clothes; my apartment in France could fit inside, and I had a choice of a shower or a jet tub. The vanity had two sets of sinks, and as promised, bowls for Sparrow and a change of clothes waited.
As I didn’t own a jersey for any sport, nor did I own much in the way of shorts, someone had gone clothing shopping on my behalf. Laughing and shaking my head, I set Sparrow on the tiles, put the bowls on the floor, read the instructions on the can of wet food, and fed my kitten and gave her water before closing the bathroom door and making good use of the jet tub.
I expected it would be a long time until I got to use one again once I escaped the insanity of royal life and everyone realized I wasn’t suited for high society.
I’d just do my best to make certain life was safe and comfortable for her before bailing back
overseas and doing the job I did well. I hoped Sparrow wouldn’t mind being left at home, and I feared I’d have to get a second cat to make certain she wasn’t alone too often.
Day by day, life was becoming even more complicated, and I wasn’t sure what I thought about that.
Once satisfied Sparrow was content to eat her breakfast, I indulged in a soak, and if anyone asked why I added bubbles, I would claim it was an accident due to washing my hair and using too much shampoo. Amusingly, the bubbles, the shampoo, and the soaps all proudly proclaimed they were safe for pets.
Were we humans the pets, or did the manufacturers dare claim the cats were the pets?
Judging from how I’d woken up, I was the pet of six cats, five of which belonged to Melody. Mr. Asshole was cute enough I might have to negotiate for visitation rights, and I’d only pet him once.
Life really had become complicated.
The jets did a good job of soothing my sore, aching muscles. However, Sparrow deciding to climb onto the ledge and join me in the water hadn’t been a part of my plans. Instead of acting like death surely was on its way to pay a personal visit, my kitten swam through the bubbles without a care in the world.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be in the tub with me,” I said.
As expected, Sparrow ignored me. Once she figured out where I was beneath the bubbles, she climbed onto my chest, purred, and stretched out, all but her head and front paws submerged in the water. I moved the bubbles so the soap wouldn’t get in her eyes, and I stroked her as a reward for her good behavior.
I’d have to try to convince her taking a bath with me wasn’t good behavior, but as I emerged without any scratches, I couldn’t complain. Had the soaps not been suitable for animals, I might’ve been more concerned.
Sparrow’s company ensured I didn’t soak for as long as I wanted, and to make certain she wouldn’t get sick, I took care to make sure her fur was rinsed out in the shower, which she enjoyed playing in as much as she liked swimming in the tub. Somehow, I’d been given a defective kitten, but I didn’t know how to break the news to Antoinette. Perhaps Melody would be able to guide me.
Fortunately, there were two towels in the bathroom, which let me dry my kitten before I sighed and changed into the clothes of a baseball fan.
Someone knocked, and a moment later, Melody asked, “Everything okay?”
I eyed Sparrow, who despite my best efforts, still dripped on the tiles. “How does one dry a kitten?”
Melody cracked open the door, caught sight of my kitten on the floor, and laughed. “What on Earth happened?”
“Well, I got into the tub, and Sparrow decided the only place for her was in the tub with me, and then I took a shower to make sure all of the soap was out, and she wanted to play in the water. Do you think Antoinette is going to be heartbroken when I tell her Sparrow’s defective? Cats don’t like water.”
“There’s a reason I have animal-friendly soaps in my bathroom. If I don’t block the door from opening, Mr. Asshole opens the door so Misery, Mooch, and Marauder can join me in the tub or shower. I’ll make sure to get you a list of shampoos and soaps that are safe for cats. If she’s already trying to join you, you’ll never escape. Showers will be safer, because all you’ll have to do then is dodge cats. But bath time? Bath time is sacred, and they want to take their baths leisurely.”
I foresaw yet another disaster on the horizon. “Where’d you get your cats? They seem to be defective, too, and you should have a stern conversation with the breeder.”
Melody giggled. “Dad bred them. I’m not allowed to have any more cats until Mr. Asshole passes away.”
I frowned. “Is something wrong with Mr. Asshole?”
“He’s twenty-two.”
My eyes widened. “Isn’t that really old for a cat? He doesn’t look anywhere near that old.”
“He’s loved, spoiled, and given everything he wants without question. He has hyperthyroidism, diabetes, and kidney failure, so he’s losing weight. You can’t tell because of his thick fur, but he probably won’t be with us much longer. But that’s okay. He’s had a great, long life. But that’s why he gets to come almost everywhere with me. He likes to travel. If I’d known I’d be spending extra time in France, I would’ve taken him overseas with me. I want to be with him when he dies.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She smiled, stepped into the bathroom, grabbed one of the discarded towels, and wrapped Sparrow in it. My kitten protested in mews, and I grinned, reached over, and scratched behind her ears.
“Don’t be sorry, Jack. I’m not. He’s given me the best years of his life, so it’s my job now to make sure he has a nice end to his. When he’s no longer a happy cat, I’ll let him go. Marauder is the next oldest at sixteen, but I don’t think he’ll see older than eighteen. He’s diabetic and in the starting stages of kidney failure. Dad might not let Marauder come with us to Montana, but we’ll see. It depends on if Dad thinks he can handle the flight. But we’re able to treat our babies just like our human patients, so part of my routine is to make sure they’re comfortable. Dad usually handles the really touchy work, like Marauder’s diabetes management, which is harder than Mr. Asshole’s. He has more experience. I’m better at trauma care, though.”
That caught my attention. “You are? Why?”
“Dad’s good at organs. I’m better at blood. That means I can manage bleeding and some of the serious issues in trauma situations. A lot of time, people will bleed out during an emergency because we just can’t repair things fast enough. I can, in a pinch, replace someone’s heart during an operation. Dad can’t do that.”
My brows shot up. “You can control the blood flow throughout the entire body without the help of a beating heart?”
“I can encourage blood-oxygen exchange, too. Dad thinks I have a minor airweaving talent, which helps a lot. But I don’t lose patients from blood loss on the table. I can’t stop critical organ failure, though, so if there’s a major catastrophic injury in the brain, I just can’t do much to stop death. Dad’s better at stuff like that. But, if someone’s shot in the heart? I’m the best in the family for things like that. I can even make blood completely bypass the heart during operations.” Melody toweled my kitten off, and when she was only damp rather than sopping, she released the beast. “I still have a lot to learn compared to Dad.”
Sparrow bolted out of the bathroom and vanished from sight. I sighed, hoping she wouldn’t ruin something of Melody’s, like one of her many garments strewn across her floor. As Melody didn’t seem concerned, I did my best to ignore that my kitten had bolted for the other room. “That’s an incredible achievement. You must save a lot of lives with that skill.”
“Yeah. I’m popular in the ER. I figure the way I work is least likely to forge a bond because I’m not working with the major organs, not like everyone else in my family does. The way I guess it, the more important the organ, the higher the chance of bonding.”
“Is that why you’re concerned you’re bonded with me? You did more work than blood flow management?”
“You, sir, were a mess from head to toe. But yes, that’s why you’re a bond risk. My father keeps acting smug, and he’s reminding me that we’re stuck until we’re confirmed we’re not bonded. I’m all right with being bonded to someone like you. I’m a lot like my brother that way. I can accept the consequences of such a bond knowing you’re risking your life doing something meaningful. That’s why we do what we do. We want to make a difference. So do you.”
I wondered which one of us she was trying to convince with her argument. “It’s okay. I try to be as careful as possible with my job. If I die, I can’t go on to help someone else. But that tanker…”
The environmental consequences of that shipwreck would’ve haunted me for a long time if I hadn’t done anything to stop it. However, everything about the situation bothered me.
Why had the ship been where it had been? Had the shipwreck happened as planned?
Nobody
put explosives on a ship without intending for it to explode. But why France? Had France been truly an accident?
I regarded Melody with furrowed brows. “I had a question about that tanker, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Ask away, but I’m not sure what I will be able to tell you about it.”
“Where would it have come to port?”
“Boston.”
Ah. From my understanding, Boston’s harbor was a major shipping thoroughfare for much of the Royal States, handling imports for interior kingdoms as much as it did for itself. Some went through New York, but tariffs tended to be higher—and dealings with New York were more cutthroat in nature.
A ship of that size detonating in Boston’s harbor would’ve been an unprecedented disaster for Maine.
“The tanker bothers me,” I complained, shaking my head and wondering why I’d bothered bringing up the subject in the first place.
I couldn’t do anything about it.
For some reason, I was beginning to understand she likely couldn’t do anything about it, either.
“It bothers everyone. My father was close friends with the captain.”
Shit. “I’m sorry.”
“So is he, but at least his family will get closure. It meant a lot to Dad you were able to retrieve his body and confirm he’d been murdered before the France disaster. The current theory is that the ship was hijacked. Had it been going by the real route, the tanker never would’ve been near France in the first place.” Melody sighed and shrugged. “The crew is still being questioned, but a few of the individuals left during the chaos.”
Of course they had. How better to hide the crime and culprit than to flee during the rescue? “Do you know what would have happened if it hadn’t been discovered the ship had likely been hijacked?”
“It would have created a diplomatic nightmare between France and Maine until Dad was able to pull the chart logs for the ship; we register every route with an international trade federation in case something like this happens. But if the bodies hadn’t been removed before the explosion, we may never have learned the officers had been murdered. That made a huge difference.”
Bonds Page 15
