He actually owed Jullien for this particular skill—his cousin had taught him one summer when they’d been kids, and Bastien had been particularly bored while Jullien had been visiting.
As usual, Quin had ratted Bastien out for violating their father’s music policy and gotten him grounded and his room searched. Feeling sorry for him, Jullien had snuck into his room, past their security guards, to cheer him up.
“Don’t tell them I showed you this, but…” Jullien had taken apart the intercom in Bastien’s room that his parents and security used to monitor his every move, then taught him to rewire it for entertainment. With a wink, Julie had done the same with his video feeds.
“Where did you learn to do this?” Bastien had asked in an awed tone.
“Spend a lot of time alone. Read a ton. Tinker even more. You never know when it’s going to come in handy.”
Like now.
Bastien paused his own tinkering as he caught the tail end of a private conversation between short-range devices. He wiggled the wires to clarify the signal, thinking he must have been higher than Jullien with what he thought he’d heard a heartbeat ago.
But there was no mistaking it as it came in loud and clear.
“—Base rotates its patrols every four hours, leaving an opening there. The real vulnerability is at the palace. Cabarro refuses to have security in his private chapel when he goes in with his wife for evening prayer at six. You can set a clock by it. Twice a week, at the beginning and end, his eldest joins them. You could wipe out monidar and heir in one fell swoop.”
“What of the other two?”
“They patrol together. One good dogfight and we own them.”
Bastien’s jaw went slack. He was so stunned that by the time he thought to start recording the transmission, they’d stopped talking.
Dammit!
He kicked his bike on and launched it, then headed straight to the palace. His only thought to warn his family, he ignored the traffic and sent it careening. He also forgot about security at the palace.
They opened fire on him.
Luckily, he was used to dodging shit. Though to be fair, it was usually projectiles Quin was hurling at his head out of anger, and not heavy artillery. But his older brother’s temper had honed his reflexes to a lethal level.
Bastien didn’t stop until he reached the front door, where he was summarily tackled by their guards. “Oskilir!” he growled at the security guards on top of him. “It’s me!” He jerked his helmet off to show them they’d just assaulted a member of the family they were trying to protect.
That succeeded in making every guard near him shrink back in holy terror. To lay a hostile hand to a member of the royal family was a death sentence.
Especially the adored baby son.
Glaring at them, he shot to his feet and shoved his helmet into the hands of the guard who’d tackled him. “Next time, run the bike’s serial number.”
“S-s-s-sorry, Latenn.”
“No problem. Just be glad it’s me and not Quin.” Unlike his brother, Bastien wouldn’t demand the man’s head for this. He was glad they were feral in their duties.
Clapping him on the arm, he cut around the guard and ran for the doors that they opened for him.
He didn’t hesitate as he rushed for the ballroom. Nor did he stop until he found his father, who was standing beside his brother, uncle, and new father-in-law.
Newell Cabarro turned toward him with a fierce scowl as he took in Bastien’s change of wardrobe. “What in the name of the gods are you wearing?”
“I need to speak with you in private.”
“Bastien Aros—”
“Sa! This can’t wait! It’s important!”
His father let out an exasperated breath. “Everything with you always is.”
Brandon Wyldestarrin bit back a smile. “He’s young and passionate, Alvaldr.”
In that moment, Bastien had a glimmer of hope that Alura’s father, unlike his, might actually listen to him and take him seriously. “Commander? I just intercepted some intel from the enemy. I need to file a report. Immediately.”
Barnabas quirked a brow at that. “In that case, I should probably see to this. It is my job, after all.”
His father rolled his eyes. “What could he have possibly intercepted? Especially dressed like that?”
Quin laughed while Bastien bristled under the stinging set-down.
To his credit, Brandon kept his face straight.
True to form, Barnabas smirked. “Well, his ?dara has always humored him, so I shall keep up the tradition. Come, Bastien. You might as well file it with me, anyway. Not like I don’t run the military. Right?”
It was Bastien’s turn to smirk as they headed away from his family. “Such wonderful patronization. So glad I almost busted my ass and got shot at to get home to protect everyone. Makes the effort so worthwhile.”
With scoffing derision, Barnabas led him toward his father’s study. “So what did you hear?”
“It was a report on my father’s daily habits and that the enemy knows I’m Lil’s wingman.”