Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(102)

“Sorry,” I told Fergus. “He picked up the last one.”

He blinked. “Ask him how much he wants for it.”

An instant reply came over the line. “It’s not for sale.”

I blinked, motioning between the phone and Fergus. “Would you two prefer to talk again, instead of using me as a go-between?” I paused, then I told Fergus, “It’s not for sale.”

He cursed quietly, scowling at the phone, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Hello, Sadie? Are you there?”

“Yep, I’m here.”

“On to my second reason for calling. I wanted to know how you’re doing, but from the sounds of it, it’s not going too bad.”

“I’m going to skip over the part where a cell phone took precedence over my wellbeing and tell you that, yes, things aren’t going too bad right now. In fact, I’d kind of like to get back to it, but…” I nibbled at my bottom lip, turning my back on Fergus. “You know, keep in touch.”

“I will,” he stated calmly. “Take care.”

“You too,” I murmured quietly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

We hung up.

There was silence all around.

I turned, holding the pad of paper and pen poised to write. I smiled sweetly. Innocently. I motioned at the goods on the counter. “I think we’re probably free of any more phone calls, so we can start.”

Fergus didn’t move except to cross his arms. “Elder Farrar.”

The three other Prodigies standing in my living room watched. Quiet.

The whisk tapped on Fergus’s bicep. “He’s been MIA for, like, twenty years. He’s one of the big guys of the war. He’s an utterly merciless, punishing individual.” His head tilted, staring at me thoroughly. “When you said you had experience with the Royals, I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but he sure as hell wasn’t it.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “He’s actually very kind.”

He choked on a laugh, tipping the whisk in my direction. “You must be one of the few he does like.”

“He’s said a few times he likes me.”

A clearly incredulous expression passed over his features as he shook his head. “I wonder if anyone doesn’t like you.”

“There are a few, I’m sure, since I’m not perfect.” I bounced my brows. “But more importantly, do you like me enough to start teaching me to cook?”

Both sides of his lips tilted. “The Prodigy chef at your service, madam.”





Chapter Thirty-Three

I had no clue where the hell we were tonight—Venclaire had found the place. I only knew we were in New York City and I was having a blast. The music wasn’t God-awful as the beat was reminiscent of what I normally danced to in 2035. The drinks were never-ending as long as you paid a small fee, which was a special on Friday nights. The hotel we were in reminded me of a converted warehouse, and the place was darkened for the night’s masquerade party they were throwing in honor of a convention in town. I didn’t know which one, and I really didn’t care.

The Prodigies had rented a suite in the hotel, and we were dressed funky as hell, even wearing the half-masks provided at the door. We moshed with the crowd while drinking.

And drinking.

And drinking.

I twirled in my dark attire, having stylishly cut and ripped my only pair of black leather pants. My halter-neck top shimmered indigo, and my hair and eyebrows were spelled deep black—courtesy of Nelson. My eyes were lined heavily with silver and black liner, and my lips were glossed deep red. I grinned at the Prodigies and waved a finger at my glass, indicating I was going to get a refill. Breathless and content, I moved through the crowd as the only lights in the club twirled red, the air fogged with cigarette smoke.

After two shots of vodka and a refilled glass of heavy-on-the-vodka screwdriver, I maneuvered back through the throng, merrily stumbling over people. But when I arrived to where I’d left the Prodigies, all four of them were grinding with multiple Mysticals. I winked at them and curved through the heated bodies, deciding to have a cigarette.

At the fringes of the crowd, I bumped a rock-hard body dancing with a female.

I couldn’t see very well in the dimness and with everyone’s powers undulating against me, but I felt the man stumble, grunting quietly and his drink sloshing worse than mine. When I helped steady him, his warm, enormous arms enveloped me, and he started dancing against me. I bopped my head to the beat, lifting my arms, and I started moving my hips with his. The woman next to us cursed before she turned and started dancing with someone else. At least I thought she did. It was hard to tell in the murkiness of the place. My eyes glowed to see as I moved, though I could hardly make out his blue eyes glowing down at me briefly through the eye-slits in his mask.

I could scarcely hear him over the noise as he pulled me closer, guzzling a portion of his drink. “Are you here with someone?”

Bumping into his hard-as-hell chest, I took a large drink, downing half of it.

“Friends,” I shouted over the music. “You?” God, he felt wonderful against me, his size massive. I could recognize even through my drunken haze that he danced like sex and sin in his own drunken state.

“A friend who’s working,” he grumbled. He dipped his head, banging his face against my neck briefly. “I wanted to leave, but he tried to get me drunk.”