King Hall (Forever Evermore, #1)(47)
Pearl and I screeched, jumping back.
Jack moved into action, snapping on yellow gloves from the sink and grabbing the trashcan. He seized the dirty outfit and dumped it in the trashcan, which he sat down near us.
We gazed from it to the child with disgust.
Pearl’s eyes flashed as she muttered, “I can come up with a few ways to get the Kings back.”
My own eyes flared as thoughts of revenge took hold. “I’ve got a few ideas of my own. We’ll work out the details later.” She nodded, and we gazed back at the kid, who was turning purple from screaming so much, and I muttered, “You’d think it would know to shut up. That can’t be healthy.”
They nodded.
“So, I guess I’ll take the diaper off since I’ve got,” Jack lifted his hands, “the gloves.”
The three of us stared in morbid fascination as Jack stepped forward, ripped the diaper on the sides, and lifted it back, his voice guttural. “Holy Mary, Mother of God.”
I choked and covered my mouth. That just wasn’t right.
Jack bellowed, throwing the diaper back over the kid, but he wasn’t fast enough. It was male. And the little bugger took the opportunity to piss all over the front of Jack’s shirt. While hollering, Jack tore his shirt over his head and tossed it into the trashcan to stand bare-chested, heaving in great gulps of air. Until he started gagging right along with us because we had started laughing and pulled too much stench into our lungs.
Hearing a masculine chuckle behind us as we coughed, we looked back.
Antonio was resting against the doorframe, his mien entertained, watching us fumble our way through this. His lips twitching, he pushed off the door and patted my head as he passed. Bending over the kitchen table, way too close to the spawn, he started cooing to the tiny, red-faced male. Amazing me even further, the kid shut up, only a few whimpers heard.
Antonio snatched the wipes, talking in a high, grating voice, all the while staring at the munchkin. “Diapers aren’t hard.” He shook his head, leaning down to kiss the mini-monster’s sweaty forehead. “No, they’re not.” God, he sounded like a mutant. “In fact, I used to change that mean ol’ Lily’s diapers when she was a baby. Yes, I did.” Again, he kissed the sweaty forehead. “There was one time when she was such a mess—”
I kicked him in the butt, cutting him off. No one wanted to hear this.
“Well, it looks like mean ol’ Lily doesn’t want me to embarrass her.” He pulled the diaper off and the four of us backed away, but watched as he used the wipes and applied the new diaper. Efficiently, he put the clean clothes on the little beast. By the time Antonio was done, the male was grinning at him — and drooling — while clapping his hands like Antonio was the ultimate. “There we go.”
Antonio handed the squirming male to me, his voice normal once more. “That was as a one-time demonstration. Don’t come to me when the next poopie diaper arrives.” His lips were twitching again. “By the smell of it, there’s plenty more in the living room.” Sauntering through the kitchen, he snickered. “Also, they’re drawing on the walls in the foyer with the crayons one of you left them unattended with.”
We scowled at the shirtless Jack, the crayons definitely his idea.
Jack grabbed a scrub brush from the sink, his shoulders slumped. “This blows.”
In silence, we nodded.
Chapter Eleven
Piling into the armored limo, exhausted, I yawned. It was two weeks after the beach attack, and we were on our way to chat with the President of the United States of America about improving relations. Utterly drained, I had barely been able to drag myself out of bed after the late night babysitting at King Venclaire’s home the previous evening. Combine that with my studies at school and combat classes, and I was a walking zombie.
At least I had company in my mindless trek. Jack, Pearl, and Ezra weren’t any better. They had been putting in just as many long days with our punishment and the late night cramming study sessions.
The Kings were already in the limo, dressed in their finest, stuffy suits, watching us progress inside with charmed expressions. Yeah, it was loads of fun seeing us drag ass. All they kept saying over the past two weeks was that they should have thought of this sooner. Sadly, Pearl and I had decided against revenge, for fear of what new punishment they might concoct in those scheming heads of theirs.
All four of us plopped onto one of the side seats, slumping on the soft leather — not caring if our own stuffy suits that the Kings made us wear got wrinkled — while the driver shut the door behind us.
There were bulletproof vehicles in front and behind us holding our guards and our “elite” guards — the Kings had decided it was time to introduce them to the world. Felix was one of them. I hadn’t spoken a single word to him since I had found out what he was, though I was pretty sure my friends had. Especially because of the first day afterward, when he had arrived in class, bloody, bruised, and sopping wet. He had left me alone after that but, unfortunately, still stayed close, doing his job.
As the limo began moving, Jack’s head thumped onto my lap and he yawned so big I thought his jaw would break, then Pearl’s head landed on Ezra’s lap next to me, her golden hair flying over Jack’s head, which he didn’t even bother to brush away.
I patted Jack’s shoulder, my own head falling against Ezra’s shoulder, his head falling on top of mine. I closed my eyes to the Kings’ chuckling and high-fiving. Whatever. One day, we wouldn’t be babysitting New York’s finest brats, and we would be wreaking havoc again.