by Shaila Patel
“Just playing my part too, yeah?”
“Let me look at you.” I moved around the table to where he was sitting and grabbed a piece of toast. “Dear merciful God in heaven. How are you letting your puppies breathe with jeans that tight?”
“The future Whelan line is in no danger. Rest assured.”
“Didn’t realize you could look like such a distinguished gentlemen,” he said. He took a slurp of his tea and winked.
I sat next to him and made myself a plate, noticing his narrowed eyes.
“What now?” I asked.
“Are you itching for a fight, or are you meaning to protect someone?”
“Yes.” I was being fiercely vague, but then thought the better of it. “I’ll be needing some itch cream on the way back if I don’t get my fight. Which Elder did they send after us?”
He studied me over the rim of his cup. “Claire Brennan.”
My mind flashed back to the signing ceremony. “Why in all that’s holy and right would she come here for this?”
He shrugged. “She wouldn’t say a word yesterday, except to ask when you’d be showing your face. Brought an entourage with her, she did.”
“How many?”
“Seven.”
“For a two-day trip? Jaysus.”
“Sure look it, she didn’t become an Elder by having mush for brains. Don’t you underestimate her. She’s the eldest of that lot too.”
I frowned. “How long has she been an Elder?”
“Seventy-five years, or so the rumor goes. The records from the time before she was appointed have gone missing, they have. It’s said she was only in her seventies when she became an Elder. The youngest ever.”
Damn.
What did someone of her stature find so interesting about me? Or was this only about the Elders’ library and Aunt Finola?
More importantly … would she be a threat to Lucky?
We went down to the main restaurant early so I could work my magic. Da had reserved the main dining room for our group. He kept himself out in the lobby, and I sauntered over to the waitstaff. I couldn’t just be paying them to act—I needed them to be genuinely charmed by me.
In a move that would’ve made Ciarán proud, I scoped out the shyest-looking girl and started with her, explaining how I wanted to make this lunch for my dear old great-grandmother an extra special one. I smiled, flirted, and laid it on like jam on bread. When I sensed the other two waitresses drawn to me out of curiosity, I turned to them and winked. They came over, and soon I had all three hovering while I worked my Irish charm. A simple projection to make them happy wouldn’t work, nor would it last. Gagliardi wouldn’t be fooled by that trick. The staff needed to be generating the emotion themselves.
“So, you’ll be looking out for me then?” I flashed a smile. Giggles and smiles went round in unison, and then I set my sights on the male waiters.
The two of them were having a chat with the bus boy, and I took out a wad of cash.
“Gentlemen, can I ask a favor?” They saw the money, and I had their undivided attention. “Your uh … gorgeous coworkers over there.” I glanced in the girls’ direction, and they smiled. “Well, they’ve agreed to take pure good care of us during lunch. As eager as they are, I don’t want them feeling overwhelmed.”
Step one was complete. The men knew I had the ladies’ attention.
“Would you be able to help out more than usual—keep things running smooth? I’m needing this to be perfect.” I flicked out a fifty for each, the same as I’d given the ladies.
Step two worked like I’d hoped. I was sensing that they considered themselves beholden to me, and Gagliardi would surely pick up on that—and not much more.
Ciarán would be right proud of me.
I left to meet Da. He was talking to three middle-aged women in gray dresses, who had to be part of Brennan’s entourage. Smoothing my tie, I walked over to them. One of the ladies watched me, betraying nothing on her face or in her mind. She could have been a bloody robot. Impressive. I was guarding my feelings, but as tired as I’d been, my concentration was shaky. Could she be reading me? I escaped to the restrooms to wash my face and find a bit of peace.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering what could happen at this meeting. Was this just about power to Gagliardi, or was he a Soul Seeker bent on destruction? What if he found out about Lucky? Would he threaten her? Hurt her? I imagined him touching her, and a rage surged and overpowered my concentration. My hands curled into fists.
I’ll not be this weak.
Taking several deep breaths, I pushed out all thoughts except one—Lucky. My heart rate calmed. For her sake, I had to control my emotions. Bringing her into our world and not being able to protect her was not an option. One final deep breath and I was back in control.
I slapped on a bit of the Whelan arrogance and joined Da outside. The robot lady was watching me again. Unnerving as it was, I couldn’t be distracted by her. If I could be thrown off so easily, what chance did I have in front of our VIP guests? She was drawn into a conversation with Da, and I snatched the opportunity to study her. It helped me focus, as if staring at her replaced my distractions with a dull, gray vacuum. The musculature of her right cheek changed. Was that a smile? What if this was a trap? I’d remain guarded.
Drago Gagliardi and Elder Brennan got off the lift and headed toward us. Four officers from the Empath Gendarmerie followed and surrounded our group at a discreet distance.
Gagliardi was definitely the Mediterranean man from the signing-ceremony. A chiseled nose, pencil-thin lips, and that grotesque mole on his left cheek stood out before anything else. He was slightly shorter than Brennan, and his steps were short and quick around her. He reminded me of a mousy servant chasing after his master.
She, on the other hand, seemed as regal as ever. She walked with her finely carved cane, the same as I’d seen back in Ireland, but stood tall and proud in a light-blue skirt suit that matched her shrewd eyes. Her steps were elegant and fearless, and I had a hard time believing she was over 140 years old. Maybe the rumors were just hype.
Gagliardi was the first to meet my eyes. His were piercing and looked bloody chilled and determined, reminding me of a kid ready to take a dare to prove himself. My lips curled at the idea of a challenge, and my confidence bubbled to the surface. The robot lady moved slightly. Confidence could be seen as cockiness, and I was needing to rein it in so I’d remain a blank slate like her. Elder Brennan was studying me, her lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed.
The four of us shook hands. Gagliardi gave me a cursory head bow in deference to my royalty, but I didn’t have to be an empath to feel the disdain in his stiff demeanor.
“Elder Brennan would like to begin the meeting,” one of her assistants said.
The hostess led the six of us to our table and sat the rest of Brennan’s entourage and Gagliardi’s team nearby. With dark wood floors and brown and neutral furnishings, the restaurant looked like a well-dressed wallflower. Two tables with sparkling glassware and bright white dishes had been pushed together for us. A waiter held out a chair for Brennan across from her assistant, who’d be sitting at my right. Da was at my left, facing Gagliardi, while the robot lady sat across from me.
After some time with our menus, a waitress stepped up to take our order. The assistant ordered for Brennan, which freed the Elder to watch me. I assumed she’d be waiting until later to bust through my defenses—if she’d been planning on it. She’d all but admitted to going easy on me during the test. Would she do the same now?
When it was my turn to say what I wanted, I glanced up at the waitress. “Colleen, is it? A fine Irish name. What do you have a taste for?”
The color rose to her cheeks. “My favorite is the lobster Cobb salad.”
“Then how could I say no to that?”
She smiled and made her way around the table.
A male waiter came next, stood by Gagliardi’s e
nd of the table, but addressed me, asking if anyone wanted refills on the drinks we were handed not five minutes ago. The effect was marvelous. Judging by Gagliardi’s raised eyebrow, the waiter’s deference to me had caught his attention.
“So, Drago,” Da said. “How’s the wife and the little ones?” His familiarity with Gagliardi was more than disrespectful, but Da must have had that planned for sure.
Gagliardi put down his water glass. “They are fine. And Moira?” He said Mum’s name like he enjoyed rolling the sound of it off his tongue. I swallowed back bile and noticed Da twisting the napkin in his lap. Gagliardi’s Italian accent had that typical singsong lilt of his countrymen, but his unnatural pauses between words seemed calculating.
“Well enough,” Da said. “Her research keeps her busy. Did you know she’s studying the empathic abilities of dogs and their owners? Fascinating stuff. We can talk more about it later if you’d care to. It’s simply incredible.” Da hammed it up as if they were old pals. He shook out his napkin and tucked it into his T-shirt. It would’ve been embarrassing had it not been so damned funny.
Gagliardi sneered. “Sì. Fascinating.”
I’d been watching Gagliardi, studying his facial expressions, looking for tells. He soon turned his attention to me. “So, Prince Liam, how do you like moving so much? Is it not tiring to you?”
“I’m with my family, and I get to travel. There’s nothing tiring about it.”
“You do not miss your brother?”
“I’d have missed Ciarán at home just the same. He’s been at Trinity these past few years.”
“But to have to make so many new friends.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. The action seemed an afterthought, like he was following some instruction manual on how to appear sympathetic.
If this fishing expedition was the best Gagliardi had to rattle me, he’d have to work harder.
“But I’ve been blessed to have made so many, haven’t I now?” I put out my arm and rested my hand on the back of Da’s chair.
He patted my shoulder. “Blessed you are, son.”
Now was a good time to show Gagliardi I wasn’t intimidated by him or the Elders.
“Elder Brennan, I hope your flight was pleasant. I apologize for not being here yesterday.”
Her assistant opened her mouth to speak, but Brennan lifted her hand.
“It was. Thank you for asking, Prince Liam.”
I tipped my head. She was studying me again, and her stare was hard. I glanced at the robot lady to remember to keep focus.
Gagliardi cleared his throat. “Patrick, you know why we are here today, no?”
“The vision about my boy, yeah? He’d just turned six when I had the most glorious dream of him and his future wife. At six, mind you!”
Our food arrived, and Da babbled on with his story. He told the truth, or a version near enough to it, but he was offering such mind-numbing details, it was useless. Gagliardi asked questions along the way, but never got meaningful answers. I wondered if our guests could sense Da was holding something back, or if they’d bought into the whole professor a-touch-gone-in-the-head act.
Gagliardi finished his food and put his fork down. “Prince Liam, it has taken all this time but you have not met this girl. Frustrating, no? Do you believe in your father’s sight?”
“I believe in fate and faith, il signor Gagliardi.” I raised my glass to him.
“How can a young boy such as yourself be tempted by fairy tales?”
“Fairy tales themselves don’t tempt me, but the quest for the grain of truth they hold does. If God has ordained I be joined as a soulmated empath, then not even the Devil himself could keep me from her.” I stared him down, hoping the bastardo got my veiled threat.
He cocked his head ever so slightly, assessing me. Yeah, he understands me perfectly. A small voice in my head warned me not to piss him off, but it was too tempting. I’d not be letting him get the upper hand by goading me into it though.
“What will you do if you meet her?” Gagliardi asked.
I ignored him and faced Brennan. “I’d present her to you, Elder Brennan, and the other Elders, of course.”
Brennan turned to me without betraying any emotion.
Gagliardi shifted in his seat. “Would you not present her to the Council first?” His tone was hard.
“Elder Brennan’s presence here would indicate their interest supersedes yours. Or do you disagree?” I asked.
Da squirmed in his seat.
“No, no.” Gagliardi waved his hand dismissively. “It is my wish to remind someone as young as yourself we have a protocol to honor, no? As a royal, you should know this.”
I sat back, placing my forearm on the table’s edge. Feigning a casual indifference wasn’t easy when I wanted to schkelp that feckin’ smirk off Gagliardi’s face.
“I’d be more than flattered if the Council chose to send you all this way out of concern for my, um … youth. But this attention would suggest something else. Someone must think I’m a threat.” I paused for effect. “Do you think someone as young as myself could be a threat, signore?”
“That depends. Do you choose to be?” A subtle tension knotted his forehead.
My disgust was right at the surface. I looked at robot lady to regroup. She had already been staring at me, as if she were waiting to be at my service. Da wiped his palms up and down his lap.
Colleen and another waitress interrupted us to ask if we cared for coffee and dessert, followed by an eager busboy who cleared the table. Gagliardi ordered an espresso, as did Da, who rarely drank the stuff. Why was he being so deferential? Ah, right. Aunt Finola. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to relax.
When the waitstaff left, Brennan raised her hand. We all snapped our heads in her direction. “I am here to find out if you’ve located her. That is all. Have you, Mr. Whelan?” She was looking at Da.
“No, we have not.” He sounded dejected. “I hate that you troubled yourself by coming so far, but seeing as you’re here, would it be possible to ask about my sister, Finola? She’s being brought in for questioning again, and I fear it might be because of her enthusiasm in helping us. Ever the romantic, she is.”
Enough of this bollocks. I turned to Gagliardi. “What my father’s saying is that we’re not wanting my aunt subjected to what seems to be a witch hunt.”
“Well … ” Da said. “I–I’d not be using those words e–exactly. I know she—”
Gagliardi leaned toward me. “If the Council and I find out she accessed the library to help you and your father—”
“What if she did?” I asked. “She’s not allowed to help me find the one thing the Council and our community would celebrate me finding? Or is it that she’s reminded you of something you and the Council fear?”
His fingers twitched around his napkin. “We are not afraid of anything.”
“Then we have that in common, il signor Gagliardi.”
We were staring at each other when the coffees and Brennan’s dessert came. Her assistant had ordered her a pecan pie. Da opened his mouth to speak, but Brennan lifted her hand again. She didn’t say anything, and I assumed she wanted to enjoy her dessert in peace. I’d have smiled if my blood hadn’t been boiling.
When Brennan finished her pie, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked at the three of us, finishing with Da. “Mr. Whelan, I’ll be looking into the matter of your sister on a condition of my choosing. Is that acceptable?”
“I’d be grateful. Thank you.”
What the feckin’ hell? What if Brennan found out about Lucky and asked Da to hand her over after we joined? Was he truly gone off?
The robot lady glanced at me. Her eyebrows moved together by a fraction. Apparently she wasn’t impressed with how I’d been schooling my facial features. I opened my mouth to protest when Brennan glared at me. It was enough to stop me.
“Drago,” Brennan said. “I wish to have all matters regarding Finola Whelan b
rought to me. Is that understood?” Her gaze bored into him.
“Sì, Elder Brennan.” Gagliardi’s jaw popped. Even though it meant we’d owe Brennan something, it was satisfying to know she’d pissed off Gagliardi.
Brennan turned to her assistant, who nodded and left the restaurant.
“Thank you, again, Elder Brennan,” Da said.
“You’re welcome. Make no mention of it again.”
He raised his espresso cup in the air to both her and Gagliardi, and drank it down in one shot.
The assistant returned and gave Brennan a small nod. She got up from the table with the help of her cane. We all stood with her.
“Prince Liam,” Brennan said. “I am in need of your assistance.”
“Me?” I asked. Da slapped my back and pushed me toward her. “Uh, certainly. I’ll be more than happy.” Was I going to end up regretting this?
I walked around to her side. She held out her forearm to wrap around mine. I glanced back at Gagliardi. His dark eyes looked like they were on fire, and Da’s beamed with pride. He began telling Gagliardi about Mum’s supposed research on dogs while Brennan’s assistant led us out.
“You remind me of someone I knew long ago,” Brennan said.
“I’m hoping there’s a good memory in there.”
Her face seemed serene, and a hint of a smile graced her lips. Her change in demeanor from lunch surprised me.
We strolled past the front desk and down a long hallway, where a hotel employee held open a mahogany door to a small meeting room. A gendarme had followed us and stood a few feet away.
Brennan turned to her assistant. “That will be all.” The assistant bowed and left.
Once the door was closed behind the two of us, she released me and rested her cane on the back of a leather executive chair. She peered into my eyes and pointed a gloved finger at me. “You made good use of Aileen.”
“Who would that be?”
