Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(98)

My brows straightened, raising high. I pointed at myself. “I’m not paying.”

Instant reply. “So that’s a yes? You’ll come?”

My jaw started to gape as I realized I had been duped, though it had been in a sweet way, really. “Just for the record, this is seriously a bad idea.”

“It’s just a meal.” He took two steps back, my clutch still in his hand.

I crossed my arms, moving two small steps toward him. “When is a meal ever just a meal with Royals?” I glared as I continued moving forward, my steps still small. I could not believe I had been roped into this. Not to mention, I was actually doing it.

“Had much experience with Royals?”

“A bit,” I murmured vaguely. I was really going to have to watch what I said, so I went with a safe topic. “Where is this pancake place?” I couldn’t deny I was hungry.

“Just a few short blocks away.” He grinned.

“And least I’ve got flats on,” I muttered, quickly peering away from him and picking up my pace, deciding I was definitely hungry. “Okay, let’s go.” I stared straight ahead, wrapping my arms around myself against the chilly air as I moved in line with them. I stood between Elder Kincaid and Elder Fergus, their bodies blocking the worst of the chill. “Do they have oatmeal?”

“I believe so,” Elder Fergus walked easily next to me. He slowed, his longer legs making his steps smaller, when he glanced down at me. “Are you cold?”

“A bit,” I murmured vaguely. It took a second for me to understand that none of them were cold, and the fact I was probably had something to do with me not using my powers as I should be. “I won’t freeze, though.” A pause before I amended, “Actually, I would gladly freeze if I could find a decent bowl of oatmeal around here.”

“It’s good,” Elder Nelson stated from the far side of our group. “I’ve had it before.”

My pace quickened. “Good is definitely better than I’ve had so far.” My head cocked. I asked the group, “Have any of you ever made oatmeal yourselves before?”

Elder Fergus cleared his throat. “I have. Why do you ask?”

I scowled at the street ahead, dodging lots of Coms and a few Mysticals, most of them staring covertly at the men around me. Each passer-by knew these Royals’ status, even if I wasn’t entirely sure yet. “I tried making it when I couldn’t find any place around here that didn’t serve a sludge they called oatmeal.” I shrugged. “It came out tasting like all the crap I’d been served.” My lips pinched. “Possibly a little worse.”

He cleared his throat again. “The directions are on the tub.”

I waved an irritated hand before quickly tucking it close to my body. “Never mind. I’m just the world’s worst cook.” I huffed, my breath a white puff on the breeze. “I never fail to ruin something I try to make, hence I am willing to freeze for something decent.”

Elder Venclaire’s head tilted around Elder Fergus, his brows scrunched. “Why don’t you use your powers if you’re truly cold?”

I blinked straight ahead, seeing my small fumble way too late. I stated the truth, “I try not to use my powers too much.”

“Why?”

“Not a real big fan of them sometimes,” I mumbled, then I squinted ahead of us. I hopped as I walked to see over the heads of the taller people. “Are we getting close?”

“Not really,” Elder Fergus stated, then he grabbed my right arm and pulled me to an abrupt stop. He placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly at a cab driving by. The monstrous, old—new—cab came to a screeching halt. Elder Fergus grinned at me. “You’ll be warm when we all fit in there.”

And…he wasn’t kidding.

Elder Venclaire was at least kind enough to say he’d run—and he’d probably make it there faster than us. But the rest of us—all four of us—piled into the back seat. The cab felt much less monstrous when you were crammed into the back with three powerful men, their magic leaking and making it stuffy inside. Not to mention, I was sitting on Elder Fergus’s lap, sitting as far on the edge of his knees and as far from any private areas as I could get, pressing myself against the bench seat in front of us. I mean, dammit, he had said just a meal.

He grabbed my hips when we took a turn.

I slammed one hand against the door, hanging on, and slapped at his hands with the other. I glanced back at him, peering down my nose. “None of that.”

I swear his lips trembled, but it could have been a shadow from a street light playing against his face. “I was only trying to keep you from falling.”

“Mmm-hmm.” I sniffed in his direction covertly, scenting spiced earth and herbs. The scent only grew stronger in the small, confined area. “I don’t believe you, so keep your paws to yourself.”

He deadpanned, “If you start to fall, I’ll make sure to keep my paws to myself.”

I glared down my nose. “I’m glad we understand each other.” I rubbed at my sniffer as the smell was sharpening, and I asked the cabbie, “Can you please hurry?”

The Com’s eyes flashed back. His driving was too f*cking careful. His hands were at ten and two, and he was driving at least five miles under the speed limit. He whispered harshly, “Don’t you know who they are?”