Elder Merrick’s voice was completely void of all emotion as he stated monotone loudly, “We’ll have to take her out on the cot. We can’t move her without injuring her more without it. Both legs and arms are broken in several places, and the way she’s breathing, I’m betting,” he inhaled slowly, carefully, “her ribs are probably also broken.”
I saw Fergus over their heads as Elder Jacobs leaned over me, talking softly, soothingly as he removed my cuffs, not even flinching when he grabbed onto them, working them deliberately slowly as to not cause any more pain on my body. If I could talk I would tell him…a bit more pain wouldn’t matter, seeing as how my brain was utterly disoriented from it, lying in a hazy daze as I was. Fergus finally unfroze, bending slowly, grabbing one of the guns off a dead guard, checking the clip efficiently, probably making sure they were silver, and in a quick round of questioning with Kincaid’s assistance of honest answers, he shot the other two dead in the head. Elder Merrick stated clearly, voice still so cool and emotionless, his eyes as cold as death, “King Bridges or Venclaire, we need you in here before we lift her and someone make sure the medic’s ready.”
Venclaire was inside in a blur, bringing a breeze with him, Elder Jacobs tossing the silver cuffs outside the jail cell’s door, moving to the bottom of the cot, since Elder Merrick had already risen and moved to the top. Venclaire sucked in a harsh breath as he bent, pushing the hair back from my face, revealing the good package of swelling, probably making me appear like a phantom.
Elder Merrick ordered gruffly, possibly a bit too harshly, “Venclaire, if you can’t handle it, get the fuck out and let your King take care of business.”
Instant. “Fuck off.” And then…peace…sweet beautiful peace touched down on me as Venclaire instantly touched me, making me sigh on a wheeze, and I noticed my body had been shaking even worse than I had imagined as it stopped quaking, settling like dead weight on the cot. “She’s good. You can move her.”
They lifted me carefully, but I wasn’t feeling anything but peace even if they did jostle me because Venclaire stayed connected to me while they gently moved through the cell and out the cell’s door, actually stepping on the dead, not even bothering to step over them, earning a small gasp from a few of the frightened guards, but Venclaire stated quietly to Fergus, who walked next to him, Kincaid on the other side on me, “Remember, she doesn’t heal as fast as other Mysticals.”
Brusque words from Fergus. “I remember.” Then Fergus, the Prodigy, who was protecting like the King he would be one day, remained mute thereafter as guards quickly scattered to the bars as we passed, the sound of the three Kings talking quietly behind me as they followed, King White giving barking orders to one of the guards to dispose of the bodies. When the Elders stopped, lowering me in a small medical room inside the Com police station the Mage medic had shown us to, I was fairly sure Elder Merrick leaned more heavily against the wall across the room, everyone cursing quietly, and not so quietly, when the Mage evaluated my body with knowledgeable eyes, asking, “Is there any chance she may be pregnant?”
If Venclaire hadn’t been squatting next to me, keeping his power ramped through me, I might have been in the same predicament as Elder Merrick, because if I was pregnant, any chance of a live baby inside my broken body would be a shot in hell.
Elder Jacob’s voice was a mere hiss when he spoke. “There’s always a fucking chance if she’s sexually active.”
The Mage began to bend over me, hands glowing. “I was only asking if she’s pregnant.”
“I…I don’t think she is,” Fergus answered gruffly after a moment, and a few seconds later he was bending next to me, running gentle fingers through my tangled, blood dried hair, staring down into my eye as the Mage began working, only feeling peace, and damn appreciative as disgusting bone cracking noises jarred the air. “How did you get caught?”
“Us,” Venclaire stated instantly. “She was trying to free Kincaid and me after we had been taken down. She could have run, but instead, she took down four—the four you killed—before a shit load of Com officers and MIA took her down.”
King Townsend asked in disbelief, “This little woman took down those four officers?”
Kincaid snorted. “She knew what the hell she was doing.” Snapped fingers. “She took them down like they were child’s play. If they hadn’t ganged up on her, fifteen-to-one, which it took them five minutes to take her down with that ratio, anyway, I’m guessing she would have cleared the room.” A pause, sounding awed. “She did it all without using her powers or her weapons. She was trying not to kill them, just incapacitate.”
“But, they did take her down,” Elder Jacobs growled quietly, and everyone shut up around us while the Mage continued his work. Dark eyes stared down into my one eye. “Taking on a room full of Com police and MIA officers—alone—wasn’t…well thought out, was it?”
I let my eye narrow the barest bit, not really appreciating him having this conversation—something I already knew now that I wasn’t reacting on instinct—in front of all these powerful people.
Yellow eyebrows rising the barest bit, speaking through gritted teeth. “I’ll save it for now.” More grinding of his teeth. “But, so help me, Ms. Farrow, we are having this fucking discussion again later.” Well…if the roles were reversed…I might not have had the willpower to hold back yelling at anyone for this kind of stupidity, so I closed my eye, and finally let drained sleep take me under, floating in a mist of magical peace.
Chapter Seven
Other than the quiet chew down that tragic night had afforded me courtesy of Elder Jacobs, then later, a much more held-in-check-rage one from Cain for the next three days, in which, he had rescheduled just as many meetings as Elder Jacobs had for them to rotate shifts, caring for me during King Hall hours. The Prodigies then taking over during the evenings while I recovered, it also afforded me a wonderful—not really—invite to King White’s house for a weekly dinner—by way of an actual old stationery letter in the mail—with the other Kings, Elders, and Prodigies. Honestly, I was surprised the Kings hadn’t paid me an actual personal visit sooner. In my opinion, the Kings had been either patiently waiting to see where our friendships were heading, which they found out when Fergus started offing MIA agents without giving a reason fast enough or had even more spies watching us than we knew about and were still searching into my background, trying to find something, anything, but nothing had come up, but whichever it was, I would find out in a few minutes.
Knocking on the door to the brick-fronted mansion, I smoothed down the simple black satin top and black flowing, casual skirt I had purchased, clutching my purse’s strap casually over my shoulder, and waited as a butler opened the door, showing me inside to a formal living room where everyone appeared to already be, except for King Samson and Nelson, both of whom hadn’t appeared to arrive yet.
I halted to a stop when an adorable little boy of about two ran at me, black hair flying about his tiny head, and he grabbed onto my skirt, yanking it a bit, just in case he hadn’t caught my attention. He stared up at me with big dark eyes, asking, “Wa’s you name?”
My brows lifted at the cutie, and I squatted even as I saw King Townsend, Elder Merrick, and Kincaid walking toward me, getting down on his level, holding out my hand to him, stating softly, “I’m Sadie.”
His slightly clammy tiny hand landed in mine, shaking it vigorously. “Sadie.” I nodded, and he grinned adorably, and then pointed at himself, stating proudly, “Dominic.”