Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(68)
I exhaled on a bittersweet laugh. “Oh, God.” I held my stomach as I chuckled. “Fuck.” I shook my head, staring him right in the eyes. “Staying here with you is a test to my damn patience.”
I continued chuckling and stood, placing my hands on the table and leaning forward. My tone changed as I growled, “Did it ever f*cking occur to you to ask me if anything actually happened, instead of automatically assuming I did as that report alluded to, or what you thought you overheard this morning?” My fingers gripped the table, curling because I wanted to hit him so badly. “One day you will apologize to me for every f*cking assumption and lack of trust you’ve had for me so far. And you’d better f*cking pray I accept it, because right now, especially after yesterday, you’d be the last one I’d save in a fight.”
My mouth snapped shut as I realized what I had just said to a man I respected.
His jaw clenched and he jerked forward, grabbing my bicep and yanking me harshly away from the table. A furious zap of his power jolted through my body, a tiny cry emitting past my lips before I bit it down. I gritted my teeth through the pain while he continued pulling me from the room. His icy power fluctuated through my body. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, jerking me to a halt next to him when a tiger rounded the corner.
Tristan’s teeth were bared. A low, bone-chilling growl reverberated in his throat as he deliberately crouched, his eyes intent on King Collins.
Through gritted teeth, I choked, “Tristan, no.” His eyes flicked to me then quickly back to King Collins. “My fault.” I sucked in a harsh breath, my arms trembling from King Collins’s alarming power. “This is due.”
Tristan continued growling, not really caring what I had to say.
The One’s overly lazy drawl drifted from the table. “Tristan, stand down.”
Tristan moved to the side, sitting proudly, his growl cutting off.
But his teeth were still bared at my King.
King Collins jerked forward, continuing to yank me from the room. He didn’t let up on the power he was pushing, silently telling me just how furious he was.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sandpaper would have rubbed less than my tone. “How kind of you to invite me.”
Brown eyes flicked to me, narrowing. King Collins returned his attention to where we were walking through the Elemental section. “I didn’t have to, Prodigy. Remember that.”
I barely withheld my snort. I had been ‘grounded’ for two days for my filmed stunt on television. “And how wrong would that be? After all, I gave you every single avenue available to make this happen.” We were currently on our way to a conference room where the Royals and all the spirit Elementals were. It was time for the One to obtain the whereabouts of Philip Masterson and Jacob Angel.
“Do you want to go back to your room?” he asked, his tone clipped in irritation. “Are you going to continue to be disrespectful toward me?”
“If you don’t speak, probably not,” I mumbled. His eyes flared, and I quickly held up my hands. “Sorry. That just tumbled out. Smart-ass, you know? I’ll be the good little Prodigy while I’m released from my room.” That I could easily escape from it, I left unmentioned.
He grumbled under his breath. Eventually, his steps smoothed out and he walked at a steadier pace that was less like speed walking. “Just so you know, the One’s not in a very good mood today. Last night he received a phone call that apparently upset him.” His hands waved wildly. “I’m sure you felt it, because the whole damn Manor shook. It frightened the staff and the Shifter drifters.”
“Is that why you came to get me for this?”
“I make the rules here, not him. I came for you because you deserve to be here.”
I nudged his arm. “You like me, don’t you?”
“Quiet, smart-ass,” he muttered, but he placed an arm around my shoulder. “I should never talk ill about the dead, but between you and my last Prodigy,” a rough squeeze of my shoulder, “I choose you.”
My smile was genuine. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed my forehead before we turned the corner, his arm instantly dropping when we came into view of the glass paneled conference room. The whole group was inside. He tilted his head toward the end of the room. “Elder Farrar did a good job disguising him, don’t you think?”
My brows puckered in confusion as I peered in that direction. “Christ, he’s going to create a mob.” I picked up my pace, marching into the room and waggling a finger in the One’s direction. My incredulous eyes were on Elder Farrar. “Are you kidding? You call that a damn disguise?” I waved a huge hand at the One’s ‘hidden’ form. “All that says is: Fuck me now and ask my name later.” I threw my arms wide. “What the hell are you thinking?” My eyes narrowed, a thought coming to mind. “Are you trying to get him killed?”
Silence followed my furious outburst.
“Is that what this look says?” the One drawled to Reese standing next to him.
“I wouldn’t know,” Reese deadpanned. “You’re not my type.”
Elder Farrar’s lips twitched. “Ms Jules, there’s certainly nothing wrong with his look—”
I instantly waved a hand, cutting him off. “Bullshit.” I jammed a finger in the One’s direction. “Make him old. Make him look like a Com. Or even an unremarkable woman. But for God’s sake, don’t give him black hair, more tattoos, and dress him in f*cking thousand-dollar jeans and a black leather jacket.” I stared at the Elder like he was crazy, because he was acting like a moron right now. “Women and men will flock to him. He won’t be able to blend in and do what’s needed. I guaran-f*cking-tee it.”