by Jaymin Eve
House of Royale
Secret Keepers Series #4
Jaymin Eve
Contents
Stay in Touch
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Bonus Scene
Bonus Scene
Bonus Scene
Bonus Scene
Acknowledgments
Jaymin Eve
House of Royale: Secret Keepers Series
Copyright © Jaymin Eve 2018
All rights reserved
First published in 2018
Eve, Jaymin
House of Royale: Secret Keepers Series
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover: Tamara Kokic
Editing: Hot Tree Editing and Lee from Ocean’s Edits
Stay in Touch
Stay in touch with Jaymin: www.facebook.com/JayminEve.Author
Website: www.jaymineve.com
Mailing list: http://eepurl.com/bQw8Kf
For Family.
Those you’re born with, and especially those who come into your life when you need them most.
1
“Avalon! Are you okay?”
I could have cried at the sound of Dr. Spinner’s concerned voice. It was such a welcome relief after walking almost ten miles to get across the island. Doc was seventy-eight years old, retired, and living alone on the edge of Lanai. He was also one of the only friends I had, and I really needed a friend right now. And a medical practitioner, apparently.
Pulling himself up from the rocker he sat in for most of the day, he waited for me to hobble up the three front steps to the small porch. “I had a bit of a run-in with some … rocks,” I told him. The bleeding had mostly stopped at this point, but red lines still trailed along my skin.
He squinted at where I was holding my arm, his expression giving away nothing. I couldn’t tell if he believed my story or not, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that it was actually a stream of bullets that had cut me up. “Could you have a look and stitch me if needed?”
Doc didn’t ask any more questions. He was very good at minding his own business, and somehow still getting all the information from me. Psychology—or more accurately, reverse psychology—would have been a good career option for him if he hadn’t gone into medicine.
I followed him into his home, which looked exactly the same as the last time I was there. It was an old plantation house that had seen better days, simply furnished, but had an amazing view—ocean as far as the eye could see from every room. Doc never spoke much about his past, but I knew he’d lost his wife and daughter in a boating accident and now he just sought peace and quiet, waiting out his days until he’d be reunited with them.
I wasn’t sure why he’d taken a liking to me, but he’d patched up my hand years ago when a shark had mistaken me for the fish dinner it had been aiming for, and ever since then it’d felt like he was looking out for me.
“Come into the back room, that’s where my kit is,” he told me, shuffling forward.
The worn wood floors creaked as we crossed them. Doc waited until I was seated before he started to prod at my left bicep. I was almost certain the bullets had just grazed me, but I was already trying to think of what I was going to say if he discovered one buried in there. “This doesn’t look like rocks,” he murmured.
“I was in the water,” I explained. “Figured it was rocks, but it could have been anything.”
Like a stream of bullets.
“Right,” he murmured again, still prodding me.
It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t complain. I was used to pain, always getting scraped up and knocked around by the ocean. That’s the price I paid for getting to ride the tides and waves of the beautiful sea. I would literally rather be dead than not glide with the ocean creatures. Of course, this injury could not be attributed to anything except wrong place, wrong time. They’d been shooting at that girl I’d found hiding under the rock ledge, and I’d gotten hit in the process.
No regrets in saving her though. I had special abilities in the water, far beyond anyone else I’d ever seen; it was my duty to help when I could. I’d saved more people from the ocean than I could count.
“You will need some stitches,” he finally said after prodding, cleaning, and muttering over my injury some more. “Hold still, I’ll give you a shot to numb it.”
I shook my head. “No. No drugs. You know I react badly to man-made pharmaceuticals. I’m just going to have to tough it out.”
His brow furrowed, just slightly, which was the only indication that he was unhappy. The thing I loved the most about this old guy was the way he took everything in his stride. All the weird, fucked-up happenings in the world … he just kept on trucking.
I closed my eyes as he inserted the small curved needle, mentally going to the ocean. It helped keep the pain at bay, and by the time he’d made the four or five precise stitches, rubbed some cream over the top, and bandaged me up, I was feeling much better.
“So…” Doc leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his slightly rounded belly. “How have you been, Ava? Do you need a place to stay?”
The answers to those questions were always the same: I’ve been existing, and Yes, I need a place to stay. But I was afraid to be a burden, so I would never force my company on him.
“I’ve been fine,” I said. “Working at the sanctuary, and lifeguard duties. You know how it is.”
Deflection and avoidance often worked, but not this time. Apparently my “rock” graze had worried him. “I’d really like you to stay here for a few nights … just so I can keep an eye on you. There is always a possibility of infection.”
Swallowing hard, I tried not to let my relief reach my face. If he knew how badly I wanted to stay, he’d feel obligated to make it happen—as a permanent arrangement. But I knew Doc liked his privacy, his alone time. I would never want to take that small peace away from him. A few nights was okay, though, especially if he insisted.
“I guess that’s a good idea,” I conceded. “Just until we know there won’t be any complications.” We were acting like I’d just had open heart surgery rather than a small cut, but I was too worn-out right now to put my big girl pants on and walk out the door.
He bustled off to make up the sofa, which was under the huge bay windows that lined the front of his house. He wouldn’t let me help, so I just hovered close by, staring out at the blue sea. I’d get to sleep with the view of my favorite place in the world.
“Can I shower?” I asked him after a few minutes. “I’ll just leave this arm out.”
H
e nodded, his almost bald head shiny in the afternoon light through the window. “Yes. A bit of water won’t hurt it.”
I’d showered here before; I knew the bathroom well. “There are new razors and toothbrushes in the same place,” he called when I was about to close the door. “Feel free to use them while I grab you some clothes.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I returned, shutting the door.
I actually didn’t have much body hair … probably because I had so much hair on my head that it had to balance out somewhere. But a toothbrush would definitely help. Mine was in my bag, which was, again, at the lifeguard tower. I hadn’t had a chance to go back for it yet, which meant I was going to be in these clothes for a while.
Worse things have happened, Avalon. My motto for the past six months, ever since my parents had basically packed up their lives here, leaving on a yearlong cruise around the world. They’d sold our house, left me with enough money for a rental, and waved goodbye. Apparently I’d been holding them back all this time, and it was bon voyage, see you never.
The money for the rental had lasted long enough for me to get a job, but not a permanent house. I’d stayed with a few friends until they’d had enough of me. It hadn’t been my intention to mooch, but there was very limited work around this tiny island for an eighteen-year-old who’d barely finished her senior year and had no skills to speak of. If I could tell people about my abilities in the water, that would have made a difference, but the one thing my mom had warned me about was never exposing those unique traits to the world.
They will hunt you down and experiment on you, Ava, she’d always said.
Lifeguarding ended up being a last resort, and as long as I kept my speed modified, I was never singled out. But they also only had part-time hours for me, and the money was really low. So I bummed around, sleeping where I could, often in the tower after shift.
One day I’d get my life together. Not today, of course, but one day.
When the shower stream got nice and hot, I stepped under, then immediately had to adjust it to colder, because I loved the idea of a hot shower more than the reality. I took in a deep breath of the doc’s shampoo, which I knew he only kept for me on those rare occasions I showered here. Firstly, it was my favorite kind: ocean blend, in the aqua bottle. And secondly, he was almost bald.
As soon as my waist-length hair was wet, its silvery gray changed to an almost rainbow-like color. I had no idea why my hair did this under the water, but it had happened for as long as I could remember. I usually wore my hair tied back tightly or under a swim cap when I was on lifeguard duty, because a rainbow sheen was kind of hard to explain.
Within five minutes, because I didn’t waste water, I had shaved, washed my hair, and brushed my teeth. Doc knocked on the door as soon as the water cut off. “Some clothes out here for you,” he said, then I heard him walk off.
I wrapped one towel around the heavy length of my hair and used a second for my body. Padding over to the door, I eased it open and dropped down to grab the small pile. They were his daughter’s clothes; he’d never thrown away anything of his family’s. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered them to me. I couldn’t bring myself to say no when he was trying to look after me. While I was somewhat disturbed wearing dead people’s clothes, they really didn’t need them anymore.
The shorts and shirt were a little small. Judging by the photos, his daughter had been quite a few inches shorter than my six foot height—as were most women. So right now I was wearing a midriff top and short shorts that hugged my butt cheeks. Almost fashionable. And since I was used to wearing swimmers—or nothing in the ocean—the shortness of my outfit really didn’t bother me.
I quickly washed my clothes in the sink so I could put them back on tomorrow.
“Thanks so much,” I said when I found the doc on the deck. I hung my clothes across the railing and together we watched the sun setting.
“You got your bandage wet, girl,” he muttered. Guy was always muttering, and I loved it.
Glancing down, I wrinkled my nose at the wet patches across the white bandage. “Whoops, kind of forgot about it.”
He didn’t seem too bothered, probably because it was warm enough here, even at night in December, that it would dry soon. Along with my hair, which would become a long mess of thick waves. Luckily it never knotted up, and I’d be back in the ocean soon enough so there was no point worrying about it.
“I’m going to make some lomi-lomi salmon for dinner,” Doc told me, and then without another word went back inside.
I followed, trying to ignore the ache in my arm and the confused thoughts in my head. For some reason, the face of the girl who had been in the water wouldn’t leave me. She had stirred an unusual level of protective instinct in me. Maybe it was because she was so tiny. She’d been strong though, fighting the current.
I hoped she was okay. I’d left her on the main patrolled beach, just out of sight, keeping an eye on her from far out. When she’d gotten to her feet and stumbled to help, I’d left. I didn’t understand why they’d shot at her in the first place. It was unusual to have gun violence here. Lanai was a very laid-back island.
Doc distracted me when he handed me a cutting board, small knife, and some very red tomatoes. “Dice them up,” he said. We finished the salad in silence. He added the salmon last, and we ate out on the deck. No point having a stunning view if you weren’t going to enjoy it. I grew restless after dinner, wanting to head into the water, but the injury was tiring me enough that I thought some sleep was the better option.
I’d just have to be satisfied with the view of the ocean through the windows.
The next morning I was up with the sun. Just before it actually, which was my preference. I liked to see the dawn of each new day; it reminded me I was still alive. Despite my family completely giving up on me, I was not giving up on myself.
Doc was awake. I heard him shuffling around, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed my morning swim. Running barefoot, I ditched my denim cutoffs, leaving just the shirt and my underwear on. When the cool water washed around my ankles, everything inside me felt better. Stronger. My head cleared, and the worries that had plagued me faded away.
This was what I lived for. Something my very straitlaced parents did not understand. They were both astronomers; they cared for the sky. Neither of them even knew how to swim. I often wondered where the hell I’d come from. Were they really my parents? But no doubt if I’d been adopted they would have dumped me long before I was eighteen.
I just didn’t fit in their lives. Luckily, I had my own version of a family.
Under the water.
Once I was far enough out, I took a breath and dived. Despite the low light—the sun was still rising—I could see as clearly down here as I could above. There was none of the disorientation other swimmers spoke of, no need for goggles or masks. My eyes never hurt either. For years now I’d wondered if I was one of those genetically advanced humans, like from the movies. A fish person or something. Humans had originally come from the water, so maybe we were evolving to go back there. What other explanation could there be?
Fish swam around me, and I ran my hands gently over them. The scars on my left hand were amplified under the water; I was lucky to still have full use of it. Doc told me I should have lost the hand, that there had been too much damage for a recovery, but even at the age of seven I’d insisted on trying to save it. And somehow the dead tissue had almost regenerated. It wasn’t immediately clear when you looked at it; most of the damage was on my palm, but my hand was in a permanent half-claw position from the scar tissue and internal damage. It was functional, though, cutting through the water with ease. And that’s all that mattered.
I’d had one or two guys kind of freak out when they saw it, like it meant I was damaged goods. I’d be lying if I said that sort of judgement didn’t hurt, but I just went back to the ocean. No one judged me there.
As I swam faster, I sent out the call I’d mastered, almost lik
e echolocation, along with a series of clicks that told my friends I was out and ready to swim. The pod of six dolphins met me about a hundred yards offshore and kept pace with me as I dived through the rolling blue waves. My mind shut off and I just existed. We went for miles. I lost track of how far we swam, but I could no longer see land.
It was only when Jojo, the smallest of the females, started clicking at me that the sound of the boat registered. I usually paid close attention to those things because humans would freak out if they saw me swimming like this with a pod of dolphins. Ducking down deep, I left the surface for the world below.
Some days I imagined never having to return, just living forever under the water. I had no problem eating raw fish and seaweed, and I could swim for hours, but I still needed to breathe and sleep, and I hadn’t figured out a way to do both safely.
Forgetting about the boat, I made my way toward the cathedrals. I didn’t come here as often as I’d like because it was very touristy, but right then I needed to see the lights. Just for the clarity their natural beauty brought me. Halfway there the dolphins said goodbye, in their way, and I waved before lowering my head and swimming as fast as I could. I always swam with my eyes open so I wouldn’t miss anything. Millions of colored fish, the lazy glide of the turtles, sharks doing their predator thing—the only creatures in the blue to scare me. Just a little. Mostly because they were king and I respected them.
