Cold Flame

by Susan Copperfield

  “I see this will be a challenge.”

  “You only have yourself to blame for this, Terry. You wanted a challenge.”

  “That I did.”

  Three

  It was the little things in life.

  Two weeks after foolishly agreeing to attend a Royal wedding, I waited until the last minute to slip in through the back door and find a place in the back. I wore a blouse, blazer, and skirt because no one would believe I’d ever wear such a thing to a wedding when diamond and pearl encrusted gowns could be bought for a mere fortune.

  I wanted to put a bag over my head. I’d even gotten one for that purpose, but Terry had confiscated it. To play along with my act, such as it was, he’d worn a blue suit instead of a black one.

  He was the one who needed a trip to the thrift store for clothes. A week into our trip to Illinois, where we shared a room with two beds each night, I’d checked every one of his bags. Suits and everything needed to wear one well filled them all, along with a selection of books. Books amused him for exactly one hour before bed, and if I wanted to get back at him for any reason, I’d turn the light off in the room a minute early.

  It was the little things in life.

  “A bag over my head would make this thing so much better,” I whispered to Terry. As I’d planned, nobody paid me any attention; approximately half of the guests were RPS agents or dressed like them. If I’d worn a pin like the on-duty agents, no one would have given me a second look.

  Terry had wanted to wear his pin, but I’d threatened to melt it into slag if it made an appearance at the wedding.

  For the first time since he’d picked me up off the side of the road, I’d gotten my way. His pin remained safely in his pocket despite his on-duty status.

  “I told you the blazer was the best choice.”

  “Unless there’s some sort of incident and someone expects me to act like I know what I’m doing.”

  “You do. Just light whatever is causing the problem on fire and blame your brother.”

  Ian, the freak of a bastard, had somehow gotten a seat in the second row with the important guests. In my opinion, Illinois would’ve been wise to toss the troublemaker into the back. I wondered if those stuck sitting with him would survive through the entire wedding unscathed. “I’ll do that anyway. For the record, I might be able to name one or two people here.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “I’m really not. When I was allowed to handle official business, which was rarely, I talked to most people over the phone.” I pointed at my face. “This ugly mug isn’t suitable for public appearances.”

  “You’re not ugly.”

  “After we’re done here, I’m taking you to an eye doctor. You obviously need a pair of glasses.”

  “If someone put you in a ball gown and expected a porcelain doll, you would be correct. You’re casually beautiful; you don’t require makeup, and it’s not your fault your family only values traditional beauty. You’re fine. Stop working yourself up over nothing. You’re dressed professionally, you’re not ugly, and no, for the last time today, you don’t need to apply layers of product to your face in an attempt to make it disappear. And anyway, if you applied layers of product to your face in an attempt to make it disappear, everyone would recognize you since they’ve only seen you with your face cleverly concealed with foundation and various junk.”

  The truth stung. “My best disguise is no disguise?”

  “Precisely. You could walk to the altar, ask everyone to guess who you were, and not even your brother would likely recognize you.”

  “I’d light my brother on fire if he didn’t recognize me. He’s seen me without makeup. The bastard liked barging in on me before I’d have a chance to shower.”

  “Or he could have been checking in on you because you grew up in a hostile family environment, and his way of protecting you may very well have been being the first to start annoying you and hanging around to keep other hostiles away.”

  I liked that Terry viewed my family as a bunch of hostiles. His honesty refreshed me. “Stop humanizing my brother. It’s creepy. I still want to toss him off a bridge and light him on fire.”

  “You really don’t. Empath,” he reminded me.

  My traitorous emotions kept getting me into trouble with the RPS agent. “Next, you’re going to call me out if I find a man interesting.”

  “There are some good candidates in this room, if you are interested in observing the selection of handsome men who might appreciate you approaching them.”

  That both disturbed and intrigued me. “And you can tell which ones are actually interested?”

  “I’m a rather sensitive generalized empath, so yes. There is a gentleman with brown hair in the second row, three seats over from your brother, who did a double take when we came in. His emotions approximately translated to lust at first sight. While that’s not really an appropriate foundation for a long-term relationship, it is proof you do not need any makeup to attract men. Interestingly, he has made a point to avoid drawing attention to you. He seems to be the jealous kind, may be interested in marking you as his territory, and doesn’t want anyone to know he’s interested. He won’t approach you at the wedding, and he’ll be very disappointed when he doesn’t find you at the reception.”

  “How do you even know that?”

  “I know his type. He’s a strategist; he’ll set traps and wait for the woman interesting to him to chase him. Why would he do that? It’s to make it easier for him to catch her. It’s all about the long game for him. He’s also unaccustomed to reacting to women in such a physical fashion, as his interest in you surprised even him.” Terry smirked, and his gaze slid to the first row. “His Royal Majesty of Montana noted your arrival, and he is quite pleased you attended; he only knows it’s you because he recognized me. He’s curious, but he won’t bother you, as that would draw too much attention to you.”

  “That must be the most annoying talent. How can you deal with knowing how everyone is feeling?”

  “I’m fortunate. While my empathy is generalized, I have enough control I can mostly ignore it unless I’m actively scanning someone. I start scanning anyone who notices you to determine if they’re a risk. I scanned His Royal Majesty to check and make certain everything seems all right. It does.”

  “And that brown-haired gentleman?”

  “He’s only a risk should you enter his territory and do intellectual things to catch his attention. He’s currently waging a war with himself. I suspect he views his physical interest in you as inappropriate.”

  Men. “So, if I wanted to take him home with me, I’d have to do what? He’s not bad looking.”

  By not bad looking, I actually meant I no longer had any desire to remain a virgin, and he’d be a fantastic crash course about the prowess of men in bed.

  Yep, I was a New Yorker to the core.

  “Discuss something scientific with him. That would get his attention if you wanted it. But I feel I should warn you, that while he is almost as reclusive as you are and wishes he could remain that way, he’s rather Royal.”

  Uh oh. I recognized that intonation. “An heir?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Well, shit. It’s been years since I’ve bothered with politics, Terry. You’re going to have to help me out here. What kingdom is going to have a hot king in the future?”

  “You’re better off not knowing.”

  Secrets sucked, especially when the secrets were being kept from me for my own good. “Why would you say that?”

  “It would ruin your current plans, as he is the type to chase after something until he’s satisfied it wouldn’t work.”

  “That makes no sense to me.”

  “He’s an unconfirmed but probable leech, and he is looking for forever. The RPS is keeping a close eye on him. Leeches are becoming more common among young royalty; I’m of the opinion it’s a defensive talent development, although the sheer number of developing leeches in your age group and y
ounger royalty is rather alarming.”

  “Defensive? What do you mean?” When I’d grown up, empathic leeches were considered to be inconvenient unless someone with other promising talents entered the family line. Nobody minded as much when the leech was also something else, but they still got a bad rep—especially in New York.

  “People who do not want to be treated as a commodity are more likely to develop leeching talents. Take His Royal Majesty of Montana.”

  I understood; my sister had treated him like a piece of steak she was owed, a belief that had ultimately led to her downfall. “I can understand that.”

  “That’s part of what makes you a candidate for developing a leeching talent. A pair of leeches with similar beliefs will form very strong bonds—the killing kind.”

  “The what kind?”

  “Killing kind. It’s becoming more common now, but a very strong bond can’t even be broken by death. If one dies, the other dies. His Royal Highness of Illinois has this sort of relationship with his bride. His Royal Majesty of Montana does not have that level of bond with his wife that we know of, but it’s possible. We believe his parents were bonded to such a degree, but it can’t be confirmed; the accident that took their lives would’ve killed them both regardless of His Royal Majesty’s leeching talent.”

  I’d been young when the monarchs had died, leaving their unfortunately young son as the new Monster of Montana. I remembered pitying him as a child.

  I no longer pitied him.

  “Who else?”

  “If the lovebirds from Alaska aren’t bonded, the RPS as a whole will go sit in the corner feeling ashamed for misjudging their behavior. They act bonded, particularly His Royal Majesty. He gets rather upset if he’s not in the same building as his wife. She tries to go to dig sites, and he follows her within twelve hours because he ‘has a bad feeling.’ That bad feeling is likely his leeching talent unhappy she’s not close to him.”

  “He’s the leech?”

  “Probably. Her Royal Majesty of Alaska is an earthweaver on par with His Royal Majesty of Canada.”

  “He used to really scare me as a child,” I confessed, careful to whisper into Terry’s ear. “I thought he was going to kidnap me and bury me in a mountain because he hates spoiled princesses.”

  “He’s not all that scary, I promise you.”

  “He doesn’t scare me now. My talent is as much of a monster as his.”

  “That’d be an interesting fight nobody wants to have happen. He has the talent to move mountains. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have the power to melt his mountains.”

  “I’ve never tried to melt a mountain before.”

  “Please don’t,” Terry begged. “I’ll do almost anything you want, but please don’t.”

  “You’re no fun, Terry,” I teased. “Get me out of this damned wedding unscathed, and I’ll consider that payment for not melting any mountains down on purpose.”

  “The ‘on purpose’ part of that promise terrifies me.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a New Yorker. We go big or we go home.”

  The groom rode a brown horse, and I wondered when Prince Kelvin had lost his fucking mind. The Prince Kelvin I remembered never would have done anything as gaudy as get married while riding a horse. That was something I expected from the royalty of Texas or Montana, not Illinois.

  Since that wasn’t bad enough, the poor horse had to put up with several large cats, a pack of wolves, and a grizzly bear. The animal seemed resigned to the insanity.

  Leaning towards Terry, I whispered, “What is even going on here?”

  “The lynx is His Royal Majesty of Illinois. The lion is one of the former monarchs. The bear is also one of the former monarchs. I believe they lost a bet and must attend His Royal Highness’s vows in their animal forms. The wolves are His Highness’s uncles.”

  “That poor horse.”

  “Don’t feel too sorry for the horse. He’s been trained to stomp on any members of the royal family that get into his space. The horse only tolerates his rider, the bride, and the Montana trainers. His Royal Majesty of Montana doesn’t even test his luck with that horse.”

  “Is this a wedding or a disaster?”

  “Can I answer both?”

  “Sure.”

  “The bride was supposed to be riding her horse, but she’s been barred due to pregnancy. Exactly nobody is surprised, and the entire originally planned ceremony had to be scrapped. There was concern she was pregnant shortly after engagement, but that turned out to be a false alarm. Then the not-so-false alarm happened, and nobody in the Royal States was surprised by this development. There’s a general belief that young royalty view pregnancy prior to marriage as trendy.”

  “Or they just decide to screw without using birth control.”

  I’d never taken birth control in my life, as my prospects were so few and far between there was no point in taking it. If I ever met someone who tolerated me, maybe.

  Until then, I’d remain an unlucky virgin, one who was a little too interested in a lusty prince.

  Terry snickered. “That, too.”

  “Which supports your claim of trendy.”

  “In the RPS, we prefer to think of it as unwavering dedication prior to marriage.”

  I fought my urge to laugh. “That’s brilliant. If I lose my mind and join that insanity, can I steal that as my excuse?”

  “By all means.”

  “And the lusty prince up there is really single?”

  “While I’m not the kind to tell a woman what she can and can’t do, pursuing the, as you say, lusty prince, would not be a wise choice.”

  “It’s his fault for getting all lusty without meeting my special brand of crazy first. I’m basically over the hill. Call me oddly desperate.”

  “I see we’re going to have to work on this.”

  “We?”

  “You need all the help you can get.”

  Wow. I’d somehow gotten the feistiest RPS agent in the Royal States. “I feel outclassed. Maybe you should go take over New York. You’d do the entire kingdom a favor.”

  “I’d be a terrible Royal. Anyway, there’s too much damned paperwork. Just try to enjoy the wedding.”

  I already questioned why I had agreed to attend in the first place. The longer I stayed, the more likely someone would recognize me—or the lusty prince would come investigate me.

  Terry was probably right about everything. The last thing I needed was a prince, lusty or not.

  After the wedding, I fully intended on living a normal life, one where only Terry and I remembered I’d come from a life of power, wealth, and prestige. I would concentrate on the exams to enter California. Only the best scores would do—assuming I got lucky on the testing material and didn’t end up with an obscure category I hadn’t studied much.

  I frowned. “You said he liked science. What type of science?”

  “I’m going to keep that information a secret for the sake of my sanity. If you want to find out which sciences he likes, you’re going to have to locate him on your own and ask him.”

  “How about a clue? Should I go for physics? Chemistry? Biology?”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  Not only did I have the feistiest of RPS agents, he had a mean streak, too. Before I could come up with a proper retort, music began to play, the cue for the wedding guests to simmer down and watch a royal couple get hitched. I appreciated the phrasing more than usual with the presence of at least one horse.

  The bridal progression consisted of an entire flock of children, several women, and a wolverine, who strolled along with one of the maids and crowded her legs as though worried she might try to make an escape. The bride was accompanied by Nevada’s king, a man I recognized only because he visited New York at least once a month. He’d aged a lot from what I remembered, but I’d gotten used to that; I’d been out of the loop for years, and I’d already begun withdrawing from public life even before my sister had snapped and ruined everyth
ing.

  I focused on the bride, a dark-haired woman with a tendency to fidget and toy with her bouquet. She wore a blue dress, didn’t look all that pregnant to me, and led a gray horse with black spots all over its rump. The horse kept trying to steal the flowers, resulting in an ongoing feud between animal and bride. I resorted to biting my knuckle to keep from giggling at the horse’s antics.

  The more effort the horse put into stealing the flowers, the happier the bride seemed.

  Terry leaned closer. “With two horses, most of the royal family shifted into their animal forms, and the groom’s tendency to transform whenever anything upsets his bride, this will be more of a circus than a wedding. Don’t feel a need to hold back. Go ahead and giggle.”

  “He transforms whenever she’s upset?”

  “While early enough in her pregnancy, Her Royal Highness is quite prone to outbursts. I’ve been told life has been interesting for the RPS in Illinois lately. There’s a betting pool going on.”

  “When have you had time to get in on a betting pool?”

  “We have a group chat I check on my phone. All attending agents, on or off duty, have access to the chat in case there’s an incident. The Illinois RPS warned us all not to be alarmed should the groom shift.”

  “What does he shift into? There’re so many different types of animals here. Even wolves.” The lion kept baring his teeth at the wolves, and the wolves bared their teeth back.

  The groom kept glaring at the mismatched group, but they ignored him.

  “A rather large turkey.”

  My eyes widened. “A turkey?”

  “A turkey. Take a guess what his favorite food happens to be.”

  I could guess, and it made it even harder to keep from laughing. “Turkey?”

  “Turkey.”

  When the bride reached the front of the church, Prince Kelvin dismounted, handed the reins of his horse over to the lion, who led the animal to the sidelines, where someone else took over handling the animal.

  The bride didn’t seem inclined to hand over her reins to anyone, but after Prince Kelvin raised a brow at her and struggled to keep from grinning too much, he coaxed her into letting him lead the spotted horse away.