King Hall Page 14

  I snorted, laughing so hard I almost fell off the branch. These were my true friends. There for me not only when bullets were flying at my head, but also when I was having a pity party. No issue was too big or small; it appeared we were stuck with each other.

  Chapter Ten

  The Kings and Antonio got a wake-up call to technology not two hours later.

  Welcome to the world of iPhones, nooks, camera phones, and video cameras.

  The four of us were raiding King Nelson’s fridge when we heard the bellows coming from down the hall. Pearl stopped chewing her mouthful of chips. Ezra paused, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. Jack had a slice of pizza, which he left hanging half in, half out of his mouth. I paused in sucking on the straw of my milkshake.

  “Get them in here now!” King Nelson hollered. “They’re probably in the kitchen, eating all my damn food, anyway!”

  Said food was quickly tossed back in the cabinets or rapidly snarfed, and the glass thrown in the sink, so when one of the guards came into the kitchen, it appeared as if we had just been talking, our expressions innocent.

  “The King requests your appearance,” the Mage guard told us.

  We nodded, as if this was news to us, and quickly scuttled after the guard to the living room, which was odd in itself. The room was gold, from the couches to the coffee table, the recliners, and the chandelier, right along with the carpet and walls. There was even a piano in the corner continually playing soft music, the keys sparkling gold with magic.

  This room had always wigged me out, and not due to the color scheme or the piano.

  There were sparkles of magic dusting it in various locations. Like it was spelled. To maybe eat you if you sat where you weren’t supposed to. Definitely not my first pick of King Nelson’s rooms. A huge, 52” flat screen TV hung above the gold marble of the fireplace — the TV’s frame gold — and was turned on to a national news station.

  The Kings and Antonio stood below it, watching avidly, not paying attention to us even though they had “called” for our presence, so we stood at the back of the room — careful not to rest against the bizarre wall — and watched what they were.

  A Com anchor woman with animated facial expressions stated, “First, with the breaking news, we have video footage of Prodigy Ezra Zeller and Prodigy Lily Ruckler, the designated King Vampire and Queen Shifter, under attack today. As you will see, they were not provoking their assailants. From all accounts of the video, it appears they tried to run, and in self-defense, with the help of Prodigy Pearl Cooper and Prodigy Jack Collins, the designated Queen Mage and King Elemental, they took down their accosters.” A pause. “Please be aware this footage is under parental advisory,” not even a second’s pause, “and here’s the footage…”

  “Oh, Jesus,” Jack muttered as the video began on the too-big, too-clear, screen.

  Whoever was videoing it must have been high on a sand dune because there was grass on the outer edges of the angle. The video started with all of us sitting in one spot, talking, while the camera zoomed in to try to get a better shot. From all appearances, the person had been downwind, and far away, to keep off our radar.

  “Wonderful. We now have paparazzi,” Pearl mumbled.

  “Stalker, more like,” I clarified.

  Ezra grunted.

  The shot showed Ezra walking away with his head down, which was pretty much right after he had told us about his late mate. You could hear the wind whipping around as the video showed me running to catch up and then my bumping him into the water. I heard Antonio snicker, but it quickly cut off when King Venclaire nudged him in the ribs. For a moment, it was as if the person recording the video couldn’t choose who to film — Ezra and me, or Jack, Gideon, and Pearl — the shot flying back and forth between us.

  The person’s instincts were right, and the footage trained on me laughing and running away from a soaked Ezra. We were moving closer to the camera, so the shot panned back, going wide, and caught Ezra and me racing down the beach. I was cracking up and Ezra was shouting his planned revenge. Although, from this angle, I could see Ezra was actually smiling.

  Cocking my head, I observed the footage, seeing a free, joyful side to him as he sped up to torment me, and then slowed to let me get away. He seemed happy, free from his past. And so did I. I huffed, muttering, “I thought I was actually getting away from you on my own.”

  He chuckled. “Vampire, sweetheart. Don’t forget it.”

  King Fergus hushed us as King Venclaire and King Kincaid glanced over their shoulders, regarding Ezra and me strangely, their eyes darting back and forth between the two of us.

  Finally, Ezra muttered, “What? What did we do now?”

  Neither answered, glancing at each other, then turned their attention to the screen where we were almost on the camera — you could actually hear us laughing — and apparently, that was when Ezra put on his real speed.

  My jaw fell open when I saw him disappear because, at the time, I had thought he was always behind me but, now, I watched as he reappeared off to the side about twenty yards ahead on the beach, watching me for a beat, his arms crossed and a wicked grin on his face before he disappeared again, then reappeared directly behind me.

  “Damn,” Jack mumbled. “That was cool.”

  Ezra shrugged.

  The footage showed Ezra picking me up, which was embarrassing because I was shrieking like a girl, the camera catching Ezra laughing as he turned three times in a fast circle before he chucked me into the ocean. Yeah, with me screeching the whole way.

  I groaned.

  King Kincaid cleared his throat, which sounded suspiciously like covered amusement, and tilted toward King Nelson, muttering, “I might have to try that technique.”

  Pearl and Jack snickered but, after a quick glare from me, they both shut up.

  Onscreen, the wind carried Ezra’s deep, booming laugh as I came out of the ocean water looking like a drowned rat, the camera zooming in on me — charming — and showing me grumbling under my breath until I stopped in the surf, nostrils flaring.

  Holy shit. I had no clue I could look like that. Gone was the carefree, sweet young woman. In her place was a predator that would have scared me if it hadn’t been…well, me.

  The room went silent, seeing what I was.

  Watching the scene unfold on the flat screen, I saw my eyes flash blue and my head fall back, the breeze picking up my melodious, urgent howl to perfection.

  All the Kings went outwardly rigid at the sound, also knowing what it was.

  The shot zoomed out, catching me leaping through the air to Ezra’s side. It only looked mildly impressive to me, but to a Com it probably seemed as if I had strings attached to my body I flew so high and for so long. And yeah, thank God for those little blurry boxes they put on nude body parts because the camera zoomed in as I started stripping. The recording caught Ezra and me arguing, though not our quieter words, and then you heard the first gunshot even as our guards were rushing to us from the sidelines.

  I heard a deep grunt from the person filming when I shifted, letting me know the person taping us was male, and the video showed our mad dash back down the beach. I saw three guards go down — they were dead — then we disappeared from view behind the bend where the guy couldn’t film us. Although, he did film the Coms rushing across the beach with their guns drawn.

  By this time, the Kings were cursing obscenities at the TV screen, a few phrases I didn’t think them capable of, as Antonio took a step forward, watching the screen intently with a look of study on his face.

  Footage still rolling, it pictured us as we came back around the curve of the beach, or, at least, as a wall of blue water did. The speakers thundered with all the gunfire erupting. The man recording it panted heavily and the picture moved. Seemingly, the man debated running, but the image steadied, and so did his breathing, as a stream of golden light erupted from the top of the wall of blue water.

  The man caught everything on video. The guns being lifted and
firing on their owners. The wall of water dropping, me shooting, Jack drowning his victims, Ezra’s blood bath, and the men flying into the air only to fall to their deaths. Then the wall of water shooting back up, and our guards attacking when our assailants fired on us again. Disgustingly, the footage kept rolling even as the Coms charged the water-wall. Over the speakers, all you could hear were their screams, the image vivid as blood flew. The camera zoomed in as the wall of water went down. The image caught Jack, Pearl, and Ezra swiftly killing their assailants, and then swung to me being plowed into.

  King Kincaid cursed, and then froze, eyes on the screen as the Com’s gun was drawn.

  The footage indicated my friends had been rushing to help me, but the recording also caught me twisting the guy around so I was on top, missing getting shot, with the picture zooming in right as I put my elbow into the Com’s head.

  King Kincaid’s fists shot in the air.

  The picture scanned the beach, showing the dead, before it cut off, going blank.

  The anchor woman was shown once more, and she cleared her throat, her eyes considerably panicked as she said rapidly, “We, here at KLGM, would like to express to Ms. Ruckler, Mr. Zeller, Ms. Cooper, and Mr. Collins how deeply disturbed we are by this Com extremist group’s activities. It is an atrocity, a truly heinous act. Their beliefs and conduct are not shared by anyone here at KLGM.”

  Antonio shut the TV off.

  As one, all five turned to view us.

  As if it hadn’t been bad enough before, with all of them knowing what we had done in the first place — the authorities, both Mys and Com, had been called to the scene, probably by the guy with the camera — but now it was in live-and-living color worldwide.

  It was safe to say we were in even more trouble.

  King Fergus peered down the line of Kings. “House arrest, unless they’re with each other at a King’s house or school, until Graduation sound about right?”

  I swallowed. That was four and a half months.

  King Nelson clucked his tongue. “Maybe, they shouldn’t even be allowed to be together at the houses. Keep them separate, except at school.”

  All four of us went rigid. That would be…undoable.

  King Venclaire was staring at Ezra, and unhurriedly shook his head. “No. They’re here to form bonds with one another.” He scowled. “They just need to learn to follow the rules.”

  King Kincaid stared me in the eyes, his narrowed. “If we don’t want to separate them, then let’s give them a little something to do while they’re at our houses to keep them out of trouble.”

  My lips pursed as Antonio chuckled. I didn’t think I was going to like this.

  No, I most certainly didn’t. The Kings really knew how to pick their punishment to torturous perfection. The meaning was clear. While they dealt with the influx of calls from Mysticals around the world and the United States of America politicians to set up a time for us to speak together, we got stuck every other night babysitting.

  We weren’t even paid for it. The Kings just called every Mys they knew in the area that had small children, and dumped them on us, giving the parents free evenings. As an added bonus, we weren’t allowed to call in reinforcements.

  Like say, oh, people who actually liked kids.

  Where most people — Com or Mys — saw adorable bundles of joy, all four of us only saw tiny imps with too much energy, who always smelled of ketchup, had perpetually sticky fingers, and who had no filters on their tiny, loud mouths. To say I was never having children was a no-brainer since I was a hybrid but, even if I hadn’t been, I still never wanted to have a kid. My friends agreed wholeheartedly. And what did the Kings stick us with?

  Babysitting.

  “Take it,” Ezra muttered to Pearl, awkwardly holding out the nine-month-old that wouldn’t stop wailing. “It stinks.”

  “No way,” Pearl hissed, cleaning the peas smashed on the floor from the five-year-olds’ dinner. “I’m busy.” She scrubbed viciously, even though that particular area was spotless.

  “Here.” Ezra held the child out to me. It was our first night of punishment and we were at my place while the Kings were at King Venclaire’s house. Cowards. “I think it needs changed.”

  Blotting the spot of juice on my shirt — I had no clue how it had gotten there, except that it was in the shape of a munchkin’s handprint — I scowled. “I’m not changing it!”

  Jack raced into the room chasing after a three-year-old, who was carrying a full-sized carrot and making a hacking motion with it.

  Ezra jumped in front of him, letting the toddler, who was wearing only a drooping diaper, squeal away happily. “Take this one. I’ll get the slasher.”

  Jack sniffed, and made a face. “Man, I’m not stupid.” He tried to outmaneuver Ezra, which was useless since Ezra was a Vampire. “I’m not taking the kid that crapped itself. I’ve got duty of the one who keeps stabbing the deer Shifter.”

  “I don’t think so!” Ezra shouted, clearly ticked, holding the child away from himself, the kid screaming even louder. “If this kid needs to be changed, we can work this one out together!” He glowered at all of us.

  Feeling a little guilty, I nodded. It really wasn’t fair to stick him with this task.

  Jack and Pearl did the same.

  Grudgingly, Jack grabbed the diaper bag the parent had left, digging through it before laying a plastic thing on the kitchen table from its depths.

  Ezra quickly placed the squalling kid on top of it.

  We stared.

  “What now?” I asked, trying to hold my breath. The kid reeked.

  Jack shrugged and grabbed a diaper from the bag. “We put this,” he shook the diaper, and pointed at the red-faced kid, “on that.”

  “How?” Pearl’s head cocked.

  Ezra growled. “I cannot believe they stuck us with these mongrels!”

  “That’s not going to help.” Pearl patted his arm, glancing at the diaper bag. “Is there an instruction booklet in there?”

  Digging through the bag, I found nothing except a lot of tiny clothing and some wipes. I held said wipes up. “We could probably use these.”

  Ezra glared at the squalling kid. “At least we’ll know if it’s male or female after this.” The kid screamed piercingly, its chin quivering. “My money’s on female.”

  Pearl and I glared.

  Jack waved a hand at it, saying, “We need to take its clothes off.”

  Ezra grimaced, but started unbuttoning the once-upon-a-time soft, yellow-footed bodysuit thing it wore, which was now soaked with spit and drool. Debating internally, I decided that if I was the brat I wouldn’t want to be soaked, so I pulled a clean, lavender bodysuit thing out of the diaper bag and put it on the table next to the new diaper and wipes. Ezra nodded at the clean clothes, mumbling, “Hey, that’s good. Maybe, it’ll shut up if it’s dry.”

  We all nodded.

  Then, we got a revelation as he pulled the clothes off.

  A smell permeated throughout the kitchen that was so foul all four of us gagged.

  Holding the clothes away from himself with two fingers, Ezra hollered, “It came out of the diaper! It’s all over!” He swung the soiled clothes our way. “Take it!”

  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 l
ifted 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.”