Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(69)

“Maybe she’s right,” Queen Ruckler murmured absently, staring at the One. He looked like every woman’s naughty fantasy. Her head cocked, her professional gaze running over him from head to toe. “I saw the staff eyeing him, and it sure as hell wasn’t to ask if he needed more towels.”

I crossed my arms, my point proven.

The One cleared his throat. “Actually, one very kind earth Elemental did ask if I needed extra towels.”

Dry words from Queen Ruckler. “Yes, I overheard.” Red brows quirked. “Right before she asked if she could use one after she had joined you in the shower.”

I choked, pounding on my chest, then I waggled my finger at the One again. My attention homed in on the Elder Mage. “Try a middle-aged Com. One that looks like he’s on a bender. There were always plenty of those around the casinos.”

Elder Farrar’s lips trembled, and his head tilted toward the One. “That’s the look he needs.”

I blinked. “I’m confused, because that’s the get-me-f*cked-then-shot look.”

Another head tilt toward the One. “That’s the look he needs.”

I might have been setting a trend with my slow blinking. “You’re stating it like it’s a fact.” Not to mention that he was repeating himself.

Again he said with calm words, “That’s the look he needs.”

I stared for a long moment. Then another. Another crept on by. “Oh.” I nodded curtly, not a hundred percent sure what the hell I was feeling, but I was pretty clear I was a mess of emotions. “Right.” Another curt nod. “I understand.” I moved fluidly, keeping my muscles loose as I sat on the closest seat.

“Well, I certainly don’t understand,” Queen Ruckler stated slowly, her blue eyes on me. “What did he just communicate to you that apparently only you understood, since I happen to agree with you about the disguise.”

Arms still crossed lightly, I shrugged a nonchalant shoulder. “The One is about ready to go on a special voyage to one of the swankier establishments of the Bossman’s.” My head teetered in thought, but I just shrugged and went with the blunt truth. “The ones that cater to high-end prostitution societies. The prostitutes are so talented, you not only need to have the cash to afford them, but you also have to look good. Because they pick you, not the other way around.”

Queen Ruckler picked up my previous habit of slow blinking. “That is interesting.” Another blink. “Do you already know where this establishment is?”

I gritted my teeth. “I know where most of them are, along with the rest of his businesses. But I don’t know which exact one it is. There’s too many to even guess at.” I jerked my head in the One’s direction. “As long as he’s got cash on him, he’ll be able to maneuver the area fine, appearing as he does.”

“He’s got enough in his wallet,” Elder Farrar stated evenly, glancing at the One. “Inside jacket pocket, by the way.” Mrs Damon began rummaging through her purse, and Elder Farrar’s lips really trembled. He glanced at the One again. “There’s also a small bottle of hand sanitizer in there.”

Mrs Damon glanced up from her digging, her wide eyes going to Elder Farrar. “That was very thoughtful of you.” A prim nod of her head as she zipped up her purse. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Elder Farrar stated studiously. As soon as she glanced away from him, he sat back on his chair, shaking his head slowly at the One. He mouthed, “There’s not.”

King Collins sat forward. “So, we’ve gone over this. First you’ll seek out Jacob Angel but not directly. Next, you’ll do the same for Philip Masterson. Find out where they are and any intel on their plans.” He glanced at his watch. “After a half-hour, if you’re not back, we’ll send Elder Farrar after you to assist.” Barely a beat of silence. “Do you have any questions? Do you need to see Philip Masterson’s picture one last time?”

Instant reply from my left. “No.” The One lifted his right hand to his mouth.

And he was gone.





Chapter Twenty-Four

When Elder Farrar tilted his head and closed his eyes, appearing to be taking a nap, I did the same, deciding that nothing too horrendous was going to happen right now. I closed my eyes, even kicking my feet up on the table, and tried to work through the f*cked-up issues zinging through my mind about a man I barely knew. I was not about to jump on the Leric Damon train again.

Even for the real Leric Damon.

God, my life was complicated.

Twenty minutes later, my issues not resolved in the least, I heard Elder Farrar’s chair across from me squeak through the quiet conversations happening around the room. I peeked open one eye, then both, watching as he stood. He folded his black shirt sleeves to his forearms and took off his watch—everyone staring at him by now—before proceeding to move to the corner where the One had left from.

He stood there silently, cracking his neck.

The One flashed in right next to him, jacketless, shirtless, black short hair all askew and red lipstick smeared along his jaw and chest. The biggest issue, though, was apparent as he fell forward, grunting in pain as Elder Farrar caught him. Elder Farrar ordered Mr Damon, “Get your wife out of here now, please.” Because the One had blood running down his chest from multiple gunshot wounds, most of them bleeding red blood, but there was also some silver blood.