I’d been as much of the target as her. I’d made my stand. The inevitability of the family curse hung heavily on my shoulders, and it dictated where I drove.
What was the point of fighting against the inevitable I’d spent years struggling to ignore? I’d run out of reasons why. My family had been my reason to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
News of my abdication would cause the royal family trouble, but the kingdom would enjoy the stability Grégoire could provide. Unlike me, he was more aggressive about finding the perfect woman for him. I gave it one or two years before he settled down. His queen would unlock his ability to control his talent, and life would go on.
He had the extra years I didn’t to find someone. When the weight of his future crown came crashing down, he’d have every reason to do as the rest of our bloodline had. One day, if I lived long enough for it to matter, I might even feel guilty over leaving him to do my job.
I needed to stop being overly optimistic about the future I had left.
Every spring, I picked a new forest to occupy, although I’d avoided the larger ones, wary of venturing too deep into the woods to make it out on my own. My old rules no longer applied; becoming lost no longer factored into my choice. Of the forests within Illinois’s borders, Huron-Manistee provided everything I needed to disappear without a trace. Not even the royal family could search a million acres with much hope of success. If Christian told them my secret, they’d need more than luck to find a turkey, assuming I stayed off the radar and survived until the spring.
Living for that long would be a challenge, one I wasn’t certain I could overcome anymore.
The drive to Huron-Manistee took me five hours, and I parked in the public lot after paying ten dollars in penance at one of the automated machines to keep the vehicle there until nightfall without anyone paying it any attention. Sometime after dark, someone would run the tags and report my car’s presence. They might tow it for safe keeping, but my registration information would come up.
They’d know who owned the vehicle.
I didn’t have much time to venture into the park and lose myself among the trees.
If all went as I expected, the royal family would delay announcing my abdication for as long as possible in the hopes of a reversal, one I had no intention of signing.
They might get away with it for months if they opted to leave the forms on my desk. In theory, they might even find some loophole to stall the legalities.
I refused to waste my time on the details. With almost a million of acres to search, there’d be only one way for them to find me. I wished the royal family luck convincing Eva to help them after breaking her arm.
Eva had no reason to use her magic for their sake. She hadn’t wanted to interview for the RPS job in the first place. If her arm didn’t heal well, she’d lose everything she’d built through her hard work.
Guilt, as always, ate away at me. After a quick check of the trail map, I picked a spot as far off the beaten path as I could, and I walked.
The weather soured at nightfall, the temperature dropped, and the skies opened. Rain hammered the trail, transforming it into a muddy mess, one that promised hell to anyone foolish enough to remain outdoors. An hour and a half of hiking hadn’t put me far enough into the forest, but it would have to do.
There was no way I’d gone more than a few miles down the quiet trails. In the time I’d started my hike, I hadn’t run into anyone at all.
Sane hikers would’ve checked the weather and gone another day, I supposed.
A few miles would have to do to satisfy my sole criteria of becoming lost. If I went west, I’d hit Lake Michigan eventually. Heading east would take me outside of the park at some point, which wouldn’t work for my needs. If I found the lake, I’d follow it north before making the hike deeper into the forest.
If I’d done everything as everyone else wanted, I would’ve married Gail. The truth would’ve been exposed faster. Averett men didn’t divorce. Till death was a vow taken seriously, and when they gave their vow, death itself was defied. No, marrying Gail would’ve only led to my death a little faster.
If I couldn’t love her no matter how hard I’d tried, I had no hope of living a day beyond thirty.
I wondered if my family remembered that when they’d taken the spar a step too far.
My doubts chilled me almost as much as the downpour. Leaving the trail would likely be one of the last things I did. For a long time, I stood and thought about it. Lightning flashed across the sky, and the thunder boomed as though urging me to make a decision one way or the other.
Every day of my life, I’d tried to live up to their expectations only to fail time and time again. Even my species, something I had no control over, couldn’t meet anyone’s standards. The truth hurt, but I faced it as I should’ve long ago.
Had I been wise, I would’ve abdicated the instant I’d returned to being human after my first spring as a turkey. Prolonging the inevitable hadn’t done anyone any good.
In the end, the fault was with me and my cowardice. If I hadn’t kept the truth hidden, everyone would’ve been able to accept I’d never be what was needed.
Every year, I’d worked hard to make up for my failings. Had my father refused to believe me when I’d promised to abdicate? Christian had, and the RPS agent would hold himself responsible. He’d tried to tell my father.
My father hadn’t listened.
My parents had probably filled my great-grandpa’s ears with some twisted version of the truth meant to turn him against Eva—and ultimately against me. I just didn’t understand why.
Eva hadn’t done anything wrong.
Why had I wanted to stay human in the first place? As a beast, survival trumped all, and I’d learned how to cope with the solitude. As a man, the solitude chased me into crowded rooms. The fault remained mine.
I’d allowed myself to believe I had a future, and I’d tried too hard.
I was so tired of being human. I was so tired of living a half life, fearing when someone would learn the truth.
No matter what I did, I’d never be good enough to stand equal among predators. I’d always disappoint.
All things considered, it amazed me I hadn’t given up sooner. I shook my head and stepped off the beaten path, wondering how long I’d wander before I finally stopped.
When I couldn’t take another step, the storm still raged through the night, and I sat beneath a proud oak to listen to the drain drumming through the leaves.
Had I been taking better care of myself, if I hadn’t been fighting off the remnants of my yearly cold, things might’ve been different. The fever hit hard and fast, but I lacked the strength or will to do anything about it. Instead of seeking fresh water and buying myself a month of survival, assuming the cold didn’t kill me, I stared through the trees and waited for dawn. When the sun rose, the rain eased to chilly mist. Noon brought clear skies, but the sun couldn’t warm me, not when the fever made way for chills.
At some point, I went from thirsty to exhausted. The realization sank in—Eva had been right to line people up and start beating sense into them.
Had I been healthier, it would’ve taken a lot longer than twenty-four hours for me to reach the point where I understood if I closed my eyes I might not open them again. I found cold comfort in the fact I wouldn’t take anyone with me when I went. By my own words, I’d condemned myself to having nothing.
Had I done things properly, I would’ve filed the official paperwork, and citing medical malpractice I suspected would be easily verified, I would’ve been awarded a large enough settlement to buy me a few years of comfort before I slid into life as a null stripped of all rank and privilege, all evidence of my heritage erased.
In reality, the settlement wouldn’t have needed to last long, so I spared everyone the hassle. There’d be questions, but I’d pulled the cord as painlessly as I could.
I’d tried.
I was so tired of trying.
I h
adn’t needed their approval to pursue Eva, but I couldn’t win against betrayal and obstruction. Others could stand fast time and time again. Some could climb any mountain dumped in front of them. Some never found their limit, enduring despite the odds stacked against them.
Fighting year after year had worn me thin, and every summer I stayed sicker for longer. Had I listened to my body, I would’ve understood sooner I lived on borrowed time.
Maybe my weary heart and body knew best of all my time ran short.
With nothing left to do, I waited.
Chapter Ten
Nothing went right, not even death, but I appreciated the hallucination of Eva. I’d conjured her without a broken arm, safe and sound, perfectly grumpy, and spewing curses. Any other man would’ve flinched at her disapproving expression. When she noticed me watching her, she announced, “You’re a fucking idiot.”
I opened my mouth to discover that it and my throat were so parched it hurt to breathe. I nodded.
Appeasing the hallucination might keep her around a bit longer before she bludgeoned me back into the black void death was supposed to be.
“Well, at least you’re man enough to admit it. A broken arm isn’t that big of a deal. They heal. This? This is just stupidity. Are you trying to catch your death out here? And while I’m at it, it wouldn’t have hurt for you to eat something on route to your ill-planned camping trip, you feather-brained dunce. I’ve never seen one man create so much drama in my entire fucking life.”
By some miracle, I forced my tongue to cooperate with me. “You obviously haven’t met my family.”
“They’re fucking assholes. They’re sorry fucking assholes, but they’re still assholes. I’d be dramatic, too, if I had to put up with such a bunch of shit-brained, inconsiderate lowlife scum suckers!” She shot a glare over her shoulder. “Useless man whores, all of them.”
For some reason I couldn’t fathom, I felt the need to defend them. “They were only man whores before they got married.”
“If women can’t ditch the slut rep, neither can the prissy princesses pretending they’re men who are incapable of minding their own fucking business. Was it really necessary to hike ten miles into this wet hellhole? Because seriously, how the fuck did you even manage that when you’re in as shitty of a condition as you are? Then you have the fucking nerve to skip dinner?”
I should’ve known my subconscious would punish me for skipping dinner with Eva. “Please blame the royal family populated by fucking assholes.”
“The one’s only a minor asshole. The others can go fucking rot in hell. Apparently, they seem to believe I can convince you to negate your abdication and exit from their asshole family. Why the fuck would they think I’d encourage you to go back to that sort of shit? I told them they could go fuck themselves with a stick. They aren’t good at listening.”
As I wouldn’t want to hallucinate my family coming near me anytime soon, I came to the conclusion I’d failed to meet my end in the forest. I coughed, which sapped the little energy I had left. “They really aren’t.”
“They haven’t turned in your fancy piece of paper in the hopes you’d change your mind. Those RPS agents? Total dicks, dude. I ain’t ever seen so many pissed off dudes in suits before in my entire life. The lead dude in a suit is a master of the silent treatment. The ruler assholes can’t even take a shit without earning his disapproval. It’s pretty hilarious, actually. There’s so much drama in this family I’m surprised they haven’t choked on it yet.” Eva twisted around. “You all are worse than teenagers!”
“Don’t insult teenagers,” I chided. “They’re so much better than my family. I want to say I have the weirdest fucking hallucinations, but this isn’t a hallucination, is it?”
“I have some bad news for you. You’re not hallucinating. Unfortunately, neither am I. There’s a damned pack of wolves, a goddamned lion, and a runty, brain-dead cat back there all pissed their precious, superior noses couldn’t track you while I could. I’m not fucking talking to the grizzly right now. If he comes within ten feet of me, I swear I’ll shoot the mangy fucker.”
“I’m sorry he broke your arm.”
“Oh. That. Bad angle. He didn’t hit me that hard. No, I’m pissed the fuck off because he fucking licked me.”
“He what?”
“He licked me.”
“I’ll help you kill him,” I growled.
“You couldn’t kill an ant right now, you feather-brained dipshit.”
I needed to figure out how to get her to cuss at me all the time. For the rest of my life would be good, however long or short that was. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I’m right. Here’s what’s going to happen. The dudette in a suit is going to come over here and talk to you. You’re going to play nice and tell her you’ll put a thirty-day stay on your abandonment of the shit ship that’s your family. Then you’re going to take a nap for a while. I’ll settle with a nod if you’re not up for talking. Until you do, those furry busybody idiots and their dudes in suits can’t do jack shit. The dudette in a suit can because she was part of your detail.”
“Loopholes,” I grumbled.
“Lifesaving loopholes, dumbass. You’ve impressed upon the dudes in suits you were completely correct regarding the situation with your detail. The dudette in a suit is pretty pissed at the whole lot of fuckers.”
Dealing with Meredith seemed like a lot of work when I struggled to handle Eva alone. “Can’t I just tell you?”
“I’ll try to convince them you authorized it through me, but no promises. Fuck, they should be grateful. I’m surrounded by damned morons. I’d say stay, but you’re not going anywhere without an intervention. Look on the bright side. You won’t be conscious for the embarrassing part, which involves figuring out how the fuck we’re going to get you out of here.”
I hated she was right, and too tired to argue with her, I surrendered without a fight. I only meant to close my eyes for a moment, but exhaustion dragged me into darkness and refused to let me go.
The next time I wanted to avoid a confrontation, unconsciousness worked well. If Meredith had tried to talk to me, I remembered nothing of it. The details of leaving the forest and arriving at a hospital remained a mystery, and when coherency reluctantly returned, Meredith stood guard near the door.
An older woman in a doctor’s coat clucked her tongue at me, and I wondered what I’d done to earn her disapproval. After ten possibilities, I gave up trying to pinpoint a singular reason.
The only good thing about my situation was the fact I didn’t recognize her.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness. I’m Dr. Hampford, and I’m in charge of your care for the foreseeable future. You’ve been here for three days undergoing treatments for a mild concussion, pneumonia, a rather persistent cold virus, and malnutrition. If your lungs sound better in the morning, it’s possible I can authorize your discharge to a nearby hotel for the remainder of your recovery, which will take a minimum of one to two weeks. I’ve been informed you’re familiar with the routine.”
I croaked something she interpreted as an acknowledgement, nodded, and offered me a cup of water with a straw. “Drink slowly.”
The first few sips didn’t make it to my throat. Once I felt almost human again, I croaked, “Pneumonia sucks.”
“It certainly does. We had you on a ventilator for two days; your breathing was inconsistent, resulting in low blood-oxygen levels. From what I can tell, you’ve had viral pneumonia for at least a week prior to admission. Stress triggered and exposure worsened your condition. Instead of a fairly simple treatment, I’ve had to do extensive work to make sufficient progress to safely remove you from the ventilator so I could finish an otherwise basic procedure.”
The thought of trying to explain my yearly illnesses tired me.
Meredith cleared her throat.
“Go ahead, Agent Scarson. Now that your principal is coherent enough to verify your observations, I can consider them.”
“I watched a physical evaluation in a controlled environment, which was the triggering element of this dispute. Neglect from the royal physicians is probable. I’d be comfortable witnessing in court there was evidence of substantial physical strain prior to his concussion. In my short time with him, he’s had every critical marker of psychological strain. I acted in what I felt was his best interests at the time. I was unaware the situation was worse than I’d suspected.”
“I’m not faulting you for your choices, Agent Scarson. An abdication can be overturned, as can a willful familial severance. You had no reasonable way of knowing the severity of the situation, nor can you be held responsible. Others are the guilty party in this. That said, there are serious health issues that will need to be addressed. If these issues aren’t addressed to my satisfaction, I’ll block any and all attempts to officially reinstate my patient as the heir of Illinois.”
“Understood, Dr. Hampford.”
“Now, if you could convince His Highness to put in a year’s notice on a conditional abdication due to his health, the kingdom would be grateful. This will settle unrest issues and give His Highness time to handle his current situation. The paperwork involved would allow for a year extension of his notice if his general health improves. This also gives the royal family sufficient time to train a new heir should it be required.”
Meredith sighed. “Your Highness, Dr. Hampford is a royal physician employed by Montana for viral and contagious illnesses, brought here at my request. I cited concerns of deliberate intent to harm you. You shouldn’t have been in the condition you were, especially not when there’s evidence you’d been in the care of royal physicians.” Meredith scowled. “I took the liberty of barring visits from all members of the royal family until an evaluation has been done to determine if they were involved in your mistreatment.”
“As other agents are supporting this claim as well, the royal family has zero recourse. You’ll be left alone to recover in peace and quiet until you’re ready for a formal meeting with them,” Dr. Hampford added.
Huntress Page 11
