King Kincaid’s eyes narrowed on said shirt as I hustled to the wooden oval table in the center of his study, and he asked, “Is there anything written on the back?”
Flopping on my chair between Jack and Pearl, my expression innocent, I replied, “Can’t see it if it does.” Guess I had it on right.
Jack choked, having seen the writing, and quickly took a sip of his water, most glancing at him before he mumbled, “A little tickle, nothing serious.”
“Germ?” I asked, feeling ornery. He had asked me once.
Pearl snorted, but cleared her throat quickly, guiltless golden eyes following.
Not so virtuous, Jack leaned toward me, resting his arm over my shoulders, his mouth a few inches from mine. “If I’ve got a germ, you’ll have it by nightfall.”
“Oh, Jack,” I feigned sorrow, talking in a high, girly voice. “That is so sweet, but…our hair clashes. It’ll never work out.” And, really, red and blue? All we needed to add was a weak Shifter and it would be bizarrely patriotic.
Lips twitching, Jack’s mouth parted to say something I guessed was truly ornery by the gleam in his brown eyes, but Antonio cleared his throat, giving us a firm glance. Fine. We were in the presence of the Kings. We settled back on our seats and did what we had to.
We learned that the Com police investigation against us, or more like against King Venclaire, Jack, Ezra, and King Fergus, was officially over. They had been under surveillance since the night of the attack but, since no bodies had been found — a quick glance to King Fergus’s green hair told me they were probably buried deep in the earth — the investigation had been put to rest.
We also learned that there were no new leads into which Com group had instigated the planned attacks. All evidence showed it was a small faction — they were all small — and it was near impossible to point a finger at any one particular Com extremist cluster. King Kincaid hadn’t been at Hell’s Gate in time to capture any of the mob members that had infiltrated the club. They had struck hard, fast, killing not only Dominic, but sixteen other Mysticals, and then fled.
Pretty much the exact same news as every other day.
I had no doubt that once we found the group responsible they would be dealt with swiftly and silently, since our Law didn’t always coincide with Com law. There would be no hearing, nor a trial. They would just be dead, once we had factual proof. I really hoped I was on that team, or even leading it. I wanted — needed — my pound of flesh.
When the meeting concluded, I was in the process of dashing out of the room when King Kincaid reprimanded, “Lily, that shirt’s not appropriate for what you’re doing today.”
I pivoted, my red brows together. “What am I doing today that I can’t wear this?” I hadn’t gotten out of the room fast enough, damn it.
“We’ve got that thing in New York with the Coms,” Jack whispered, yanking softly on the hem of my shirt. “He’s probably right.”
Jesus.
I had been going to get my book bag for school, having forgotten about the meeting with upper-class Com snobs — soon-to-be politicians of the United States of America — that was planned. It was a meet-and-greet for future contacts. I sighed and mumbled, “I’ll go change.” My clothing really wasn’t appropriate for that crowd, since we were supposed to be getting along.
Peering in the direction of my co-Prodigies, distressingly, I realized what I had missed since entering King Kincaid’s study. Not nearly recovered from Dominic’s death, certain normal, everyday actions and observations held utterly no sway over me, but now I really appraised their appearance; the delayed perusal showed just how off-kilter I was.
Pearl tempted in her black sassy dress paired with a gold, straight suede jacket. Jack invited with a black leather jacket, a shiny, blue button-up shirt, and black dress slacks. Ezra lured in his black, thin cashmere sweater, black flat-front slacks, and deep sapphire velvet jacket.
Definitely dolled up.
“Just give me a few minutes to find something to wear.” Driving them as I normally did every morning, they would have to wait.
“Do you need help?” Pearl asked, her tone careful not to offend.
A shake of my head, irritated with myself. “No. I can handle it.” I did.