Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(26)
A quiet chuckle. “Ah, what you have missed thus far.” He tilted his head, giving us more privacy, stating very quietly, “King Samson tries to keep relations with other factions to a minimum. As do most others, but he’s a bit more strict on this. That’s not to say he doesn’t have a good relationship with the other three Kings, definitely a decent working relationship, but he’s undeniably not friends with them. And it reflects on Nelson’s attitude at times since he is his mentor.” His head tilted back up. “But, they’ll be here before dinner begins since the whole reason the Prodigies are brought together for the last year of their schooling is to create a bond with one another.”
My mouth widened in an “O” for a moment, not able to really say anything, because it could affect the future, but hell…
“You may want to wipe that look off your face in a hurry,” he stated quietly, turning to refill his drink, glancing at me with blue eyes, keeping his tone very quiet and soft. “Even if you don’t agree, it is how this world works for our longevity…and social acceptance.”
I quickly blanked my expression, knowing differently about the longevity part. “Kincaid’s view on this is?”
“Kincaid just tries to make the peace, since he’s scary enough as it is being able to rip a person’s head off with the flick of his pinkie.”
Sipping casually from my glass, glancing to where Fergus and King White stood just separated from the Kings, even as they spoke, the different factions keeping, at least, an arm span of space away from each other, something…I honestly hadn’t put together by now, so my voice was soft as I asked, “And Fergus’s view on this is?”
He hummed quietly, tapping on his drink. “I believe Fergus’s thoughts on this fact to be similarly accurate to our Laws. I once overheard a conversation he had with a student at King Hall, and he seemed honest in his cause when he told the individual it would only bring heartbreak if a child was ever born to only be killed, the relationship doomed by this fact from the beginning of anything truly lasting.” He sipped at his drink. Heavily. “I don’t believe him malicious in his actions, or thoughts. I truly have faith he doesn’t want others hurt by one of our more brutal Laws.” He finished the drink in one gulp. “And, his advice was accurate, even if a bit off based; the individual’s relationship was doomed.”
Oh…my.
I downed my own drink in silent commiseration for Venclaire, because while he hid it well ordinarily…he still wasn’t hiding shit right now, not by anyone with a trained eye in this conversation. “How about another drink?” I filled my own with vodka, and then lifted the whiskey in his direction, wiggling it a bit. “One more, maybe?”
“Sounds perfect.” He smiled gracefully, holding out his glass steadily. “Make it a double, please.”
Dinner with the Kings, Elders, Prodigies, and Fi…was so much fun.
It you were into sadistic torture of quick thinking and twisted words to ring true at the polite questioning. Interrogations were thrown my way, an obviously planned event between all four Kings, since I had no background whatsoever, and they had stewed long enough on Elder Farrar’s threat, wanting answers of their own to protect what was theirs.
And then, the real fun began during cocktails when Fi left for the King Shifter’s home with Dominic, her attempt for him to sleep in a different environment unsuccessful, and since it now was actually his normal bedtime—Kincaid had told me—Dominic was a bit cranky, so she headed home with their son.
It began when I started to feel light-headed during a conversation with King Bridges. My brows puckered a bit, trying to pay attention to him, focusing on his mouth. His words seemed to become even slower, though, and when I started to tilt toward him, Venclaire grabbed my arm, steadying me. “Couch,” I mumbled. “I need to sit.”
Venclaire instantly led me to the couch, setting our drinks aside, kneeling in front of me, asking, “What’s the matter?” He blinked a few times, rubbing his forehead as I rested like dead weight on the couch. “Are you still not feeling well from the other night?”
And then, he blinked real slow, appearing confused, his brows furrowing, and almost fell on his side, barely catching himself on one arm.
“Venclaire!” I shouted, but I couldn’t…move…when I tried to help him. “Oh, shit.” My gaze flew around the room, which wasn’t a great idea, making me even dizzier, seeing the other Prodigies falling to their knees in a blur, their drinks falling from their hands. “We’ve been drugged.”
“What?” Venclaire growled loudly, but it sounded slurred.
“What the fuck is going on?” Elder Merrick asked harshly, lifting one of the fallen drinks, sniffing at the glass as he glared at King Townsend.
Dry words from Elder Jacobs. “Would someone please care to explain why the Prodigies and Ms. Farrow have all,” he waved a bored hand, even though his dark eyes were sharp, “plummeted about the carpeting like dropped sticks?”
A wave of all magical factions powers slammed through the room—guess the Kings didn’t want to explain, but all I felt directly was a potent dose of fire Elemental power aimed at me, and it rocked me at full power, keeping me pressed to the couch. The fiery touch commanding, Fergus grunting and falling on his side a few feet in front of me, and I blinked seeing the Kings each moving peacefully to a cabinet, ignoring the silent glares they were receiving from the two Elders, who both appeared to be waiting for them to make just the wrong move before they dropped them, both miens barely hanging onto their threads of respect, not wanting to over command them if it wasn’t needed. King White opened the cabinet…the thing lined with silver, and they each pulled a pair of black gloves out silently, slipping them on, and lifting silver handcuffs from the depths of the cabinet.