Cold Flame

by Susan Copperfield

  “She’s the only she in the entire lobby, so yes. Her. She’s also the only person in the history of the exam to ace it. I found her, so you can’t have her.”

  “You already gave her to me for my research project.”

  “You can’t keep her.”

  “I disagree, Uncle.”

  Well, I could live with two royals arguing over me. It did nice things for my battered pride.

  “I will bring your father into it if I must. You might be the heir, but you don’t get to situate the refugee roster at your whim. Since I’m running the archive, I’m the one who gets to situate the refugee roster at my whim. And I’m not giving her to you.”

  It occurred to me, too late to do anything about it, that I had made more mistakes than I cared to admit. First, I should’ve deliberately failed out on day five or six; that would’ve put me in a better position to avoid drawing the wrong sort of attention to myself. Second, I hadn’t run away the instant I’d learned I’d be working for a royal. Royals attracted other royals, and it was only a matter of time before one of the royals realized Rachel Modesto and Rachel Ambrose were one and the same.

  To add to the complications, the third issue would shock and terrify my entire family.

  I wanted to kidnap a Californian prince. If he kept opening his mouth and saying nice things, essentially showering me with positive attention, I’d make a fool out of myself and try to take him back to New York with me.

  Or run away to Europe with him. Terry believed he didn’t want to rule California, so he might be interested in becoming a hermit with me.

  Maybe I’d dubbed him the lusty prince, but I was the reckless, lusty princess who wasn’t actually a princess anymore—for the moment. I’d become a princess again if my parents or their goons got hold of me.

  My life sucked, and I wanted a refund.

  Ethan scowled, and he glared at his uncle. “Why not?”

  “What would you do with her, Ethan?”

  I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t second his question, as I wanted to know what he wanted to do with me, too.

  Under no circumstances could I declare that I, a New York princess, had survived into my thirties still a virgin. I’d bring shame to the New York royal line if anyone found out, as we held a reputation of being among the sluttiest of royals.

  My family even believed I’d visited every kingdom in the Royal States for someone to sleep with, conveniently forgetting I usually found some way to stay home.

  “I’d figure something out.”

  “Ethan, that is not a reason to steal my employee.”

  “I think it’s a perfectly good reason. I’ll move her into the palace, which would resolve her housing issue, and I’ll even give her a suite so she can have plenty of space for her rats. I’ll loan her to you every now and then.”

  “Ethan.”

  “It’s a good idea.”

  “You can’t take her. First, the government wouldn’t approve of it, as she doesn’t have the appropriate security clearances. Second, she has refugee status. She’s barred from working in higher government. The archive is the highest she can go, so what you should do is find adequate work for her in the archive following the completion of her current contract.”

  Ethan looked me over, his eyes narrowing. “Obviously, the refugee system needs a complete overhaul to prevent this from happening again. We’ll start with that. A six-month contract, and We require only the best researchers available from the system.”

  I grimaced at the Royal We.

  “That’s a good start. I can do the filing today. What are you going to need her for after that?”

  “Diplomatic research into alterations to various royal families in the Royal States. Call that six months, because there’s been a lot of turnover lately—and a lot of new royal marriages.”

  “I could see it taking six months to do a comprehensive report on the current status of royals on a global level. It’s about time for a new edition of the royal records to be released.”

  I worried life in California had addled the pair of royals. Life in California had certainly addled me.

  “Research the consequences of low-caste men and women entering royal families,” I suggested. “I’m sure there are a few monarchs who make excellent examples of this available and would be willing to answer questions and provide health records of their children. Then you can do a comparative with traditional monarchies. That’s easily three months.”

  “Add it to the list,” Ethan ordered.

  My next suggestion would piss them both off, but I didn’t care. “A research venture into flameweavers being utilized for wildfire control and prevention. It would involve the development of a training program, countering prejudices against flameweavers in California, and expanding education for flameweavers in the kingdom to prevent the start of a wildfire. There would also need to be research done on the number of wildfires determined to have been caused by a flameweaver.”

  “You’re serious,” my boss spluttered.

  “Well, I am a flameweaver. I’ve definitely noticed the prejudices against flameweavers here. It’s no wonder you’re unable to utilize flameweavers to help control and mitigate the damage of wildfires; when you show heavy prejudices against a population of magic users, they do not refine their skills with their talent. This means they’re incapable of helping you when their talents could be invaluable. A good flameweaver can start a fire, yes. A better one can put out any fire.”

  Ethan smirked, but he said nothing, instead observing his uncle.

  With narrowed eyes, my boss prowled around me, looking me over from head to toe. His scrutiny might’ve bothered me another time, but I got the feeling he was really seeing me for the first time. “Continue.”

  I raised my hand. “I was planning on stretching my little flameweaving legs during the wildfire season this year. They keep moving me away from wildfire sites, so I couldn’t help.”

  Ethan’s gaze dipped to my legs, and I preened I’d worn a skirt, as slacks hid my only feminine charm. “Continue,” he ordered.

  Apparently, he liked my calves. I liked them, too; they curved in just the right way, and they would never betray me.

  I would have to reward my legs later with a nice massage and some lotion. They’d earned the pampering.

  Fire fighters used controlled fires to prevent larger fires later, although the tactic came with its risks. “If you had a good team of flameweavers, they can control burn a strip of forest to prevent the spread of an oncoming forest fire. Once the fire reaches the burned zone, it’s harder for it to jump to the next section of land. Airweavers and waveweavers can then use their talents to further restrain the wildfire. If you have flameweavers trained with effectively starting and extinguishing fires, you have a team of people who can prevent wildfires from spreading beyond these zones.”

  “How many flameweavers would we need on a team?” Ethan asked.

  “I have no idea. It would need to be researched, and you’d have to talk with kingdoms who use flameweavers to manage wildfires. I don’t know which kingdoms to suggest.”

  Not New York; we cheated, and unless the fire was particularly large, we just showed up and snuffed the damned thing out. I expected a large-scale Californian wildfire would challenge my talent.

  I could—and had—put out entire buildings in less than ten minutes. The risk of talent exertion existed, but I hadn’t found my limit; usually it only took me a few days of bedrest and taking it easy to recover from putting out a large-scale fire.

  “Let’s call that one a year. Six months theoretical research, three months for the training of flameweavers, and three months for practical application to see how the methods from our research worked. We’ll test them on new, small fires to see if the theories are sound, and if we get through the preliminaries, we can recruit and train for the larger fires.”

  Or he could kidnap a New Yorker, specifically me, and have me do whatever he wanted. I’d be an easy tar
get. He’d just have to wear jeans, talk sensibly, and demonstrate an enjoyment of books.

  “Wildfire season is starting. You can use me as a proof of concept,” I offered, and as I valued the little dignity I had left, I forced myself to look somewhere other than his jeans and chest.

  “Too dangerous.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Dangerous is telling a flameweaver she can’t do something.”

  “Rachel!” my boss snapped.

  “It’s fine, Uncle. She’s right, and it’s better she has enough backbone to tell me when I’m full of shit. I’m protesting strictly based on her current health situation.”

  “You’re the heir, and she should be respecting your position.”

  Ethan stared at his uncle, and he raised a brow. “She is respecting my position. She’s treating me like I’m a human being she has to work with for a long period of time, which means talking to me like I’m a human being rather than a prince on a podium. You know how I hate being spoken to like I’m a prince on a podium rather than a living, breathing human. If her ability to talk to me is beaten out of her, she’s not going to be able to do her job efficiently—and bad ideas may be used because they weren’t shot down from the start. She told me nothing but the truth. Telling a flameweaver what she can and can’t do is dangerous—for my hair. Could you imagine how my father would react if I returned home bald?”

  “I can remove all of your hair with my talent. Without burning you.”

  That caught their attention, and Ethan’s expression turned thoughtful. He shoved up the sleeve of his shirt, held out his arm, and gestured to the light coating of hair. “Demonstrate, please.”

  Lighting individual hairs on fire while buffering his skin with cooler air—and preventing the skin from burning—took skill, and I admired his courage. A single mistake from me could result in scars. Before my boss had a chance to stop me, I concentrated on the hairs. As it had been a long time since I’d been able to show off, I snapped my fingers when I did it and ignited all the hairs at once, using a pure, blue flame.

  Smiling at the pale ash left behind, I brushed the evidence off his skin. “Is that a sufficient demonstration?”

  Ethan examined his arm before shoving the sleeve back on his other arm. “I’m vain, so I need my arms to match.”

  I laughed and eliminated the hairs on his other arm. “It works on legs, too.”

  The lusty prince’s gaze dipped to my legs again. “I see.”

  My boss smacked Ethan upside the head. “Behave.”

  “I was!”

  “You’re about to panic your RPS agents having a flameweaver shave your arms for you.” My boss pointed across the lobby, where a pair of men in black suits fidgeted. “Also, stop sexually harassing my employee.”

  “I invited him to look at my legs, sir. I did say I shaved with my talent.” I held out my leg, turned, and showed off my perfect calf. “I do it every morning, and it takes me the snap of a finger to be smoothly shaved and ready to go.”

  Ethan didn’t even attempt to hide his interest in my calf. “Impeccable work, Rachel.”

  Yep. I liked positive attention from the lusty prince. “I’d invite you to touch to verify my claim, but I don’t think my boss would approve.”

  “I don’t approve.”

  Ethan crouched beside me, reached out, and trailed a finger from my knee to ankle. My face went from warm to ready to spontaneously combust. “You can disapprove all you want. Wow. You really weren’t kidding. Hey, Uncle?”

  “No.”

  “You should tell my mother she should hire a flameweaver to shave her legs. I’d pay to watch you tell my mother this.”

  My boss frowned, and he lifted his hand and chewed on his thumbnail. “How much are you paying?”

  “Ten bucks.”

  “Done. Have your phone out at dinner tonight.”

  Ethan snickered, hopped to his feet, and checked his phone. “Let’s get on the road. I’ll give Dr. Tomastani a call after we’re done at the pet store and warn her we’re on the way so she’s not taken by surprise when the entire entourage shows up.”

  “Sounds good. Come along, Rachel. Try not to lead my nephew into too much temptation. He’s bad enough on a good day.”

  He was? I could work with that. I’d already gotten him to touch my leg, which was as close as it got when it came to my skin and men.

  I anticipated needing to ask Terry a lot of questions, particularly about the appropriate kidnapping of a Californian prince for nefarious purposes.

  “I’m sure there won’t be any problems. He’s been perfectly polite,” I replied, careful to keep my tone neutral.

  My boss stared at me before turning his attention to Ethan. Then, his eyes widened. “Well, then. Ethan, continue to remain polite, or I will have to act. Am I understood?”

  Ethan frowned. “I’ll be… polite.”

  I wondered at his pause, decided I’d tested my luck enough for one day, and ignored anything that I might’ve read into his statement. I could think of a lot of things a polite prince could pull off with a willing woman in dire need of evicting herself from the pool of eligible virgins.

  I wondered if the medical exam would reveal mental instability and an unhealthy interest in the lusty prince. The way I figured, I’d find out soon enough, so I’d add it to my list of things to worry about when or if it happened.

  Nine

  You’re going to be busy.

  Any other day, the pet store wouldn’t have opened until ten in the morning, but a single phone call from the lusty prince’s uncle got the store owner, someone the royal family knew, to open their doors so I could go on a rampage. The first time I’d hesitated, Ethan had promised everything would be all right.

  The second time, he’d dragged me into the store behind the store’s owner, a grinning older woman named Nora.

  “It’s really all right,” she promised, joining Ethan in dragging me inside. “I was told you have rats?”

  “Yes. We’re picking up newborns after this and two old, wild females; they were in a colony together, so they’ll need a big habitat. I’d like glass with a good lid.”

  “She’ll need a stand, too,” Ethan announced.

  I would? I blinked, but before I could protest, Nora gestured to one section of the store.

  “Easily done. We have some good aquarium setups that’ll do. She’ll need a temporary cage until the stand can be installed and the tank delivered. I have some good ones meant for rat rescues. How many pets do you have, miss?”

  “Snookums and Flamingo are a little over two years old, and they’re Norway rats. They were born in my dresser, and the mother either killed or ate the other babies, so I raised them by hand.”

  “How often do you handle them?”

  “At least an hour a day, but usually several hours a day.”

  “Their habitat size?”

  I held my hands apart until I roughly estimated the size of their cage. “They have exercise wheels in it, and I bribe them to use them.”

  “You’ve trained them?”

  “Yes. They’re trained to stay in my pocket until I give them a treat. The longer they stay in my pocket, the better the treat they get.”

  “How many pinkies are you rescuing?”

  “Six, all female.”

  “You’re going to be busy.”

  “I have a little egg I put the pinkies in with air holes so they stay in my pocket or close to me for the first few days, and I keep them warm that way. Once they’re a little older, they’ll stay home and I’ll go to them over lunch to feed them. I’ll need to get extra—”

  “I will have a cage set up at the archive for the babies while they’re still nursing,” my boss announced.

  Well, that would work.

  “Any other pets in your household?” Nora asked.

  I shook my head.

  “She’s moving to a bigger place today,” Ethan announced.

  Royalty. I could always trust them to dive straight int
o the deep end and get carried away. “I am?”

  “I’ve decided you are, yes. Nora, what sort of pets make good companions for someone with rats?”

  “Beyond rats?”

  “Yes, beyond rats.”

  “I have a few kittens that are grouped with a litter of labbies.”

  “We’re taking the kittens and the labbies.”

  I bowed my head and recognized the truth: Ethan had lost his mind. If he’d ever had his mind in the first place. “Labbies are prone to cancer, Ethan.”

  “Yes, Miss Rachel is absolutely correct. These labbies aren’t meant to be pets. I was asked to condition them to be used to the presence of cats. While the cats won’t be lab animals or part of the testing, they’re being trained to be non-aggressive to rats as a proof of concept. The rats will be part of an inter-species study. I could sell you one or two of the more affectionate kittens, but the lab rats aren’t for sale, Your Highness.”

  Ethan pouted, and I needed to find more ways to make him pout. While he dealt with Nora, I got out my phone and informed Terry the crazy, lusty prince was trying to buy an entire pet shop. Worse, I had no idea how long it would take to escape. Then I dropped the bomb that the crazy, lusty prince had decided I was moving today.

  Terry’s reply, a smug reminder empaths often freaked out and went into overprotective mode, both worried me and made me smile.

  I’d never had anyone freak out over me before.

  Returning my phone to my pocket, I escaped to grab a cart and browse through the store, deciding I would ignore price tags for the first time since running away from home. I got a supply of new feeding blocks, discovered a treasure trove of chew toys Snookums and Flamingo would love, and sifted through the tunnel and wheel section, getting enough to make them a play palace for nights when I’d have to work with the new babies and couldn’t give them quite as much time.

  The store even carried teaser toys for rats, which were meant to stimulate them and reward them with seeds when they manipulated the toy just right.

  I got four of those, expecting my beautiful girls would destroy them in short order.