The Reluctant King (The Star-Crossed Series) (7 page)

Through all of that, the garage had maintained minimal damage. Lucan had kept an entire fleet of expensive sports cars in top shape. They had to be some of the rarest and most expensive vehicles on the planet, since some of them were original models from all throughout the twentieth century. I supposed they were technically Kiran’s inheritance, but I couldn’t stop myself from drooling every time I got to take one out.

The motorcycles in the garage were more practical and every day, but they were still some of the better models available.

The three of us picked out helmets to match our head sizes and headed toward the section where the bikes were parked. Jericho picked out his bike and started walking it toward the garage entrance.

“You don’t have to ride with him,” I jutted my chin in Jericho’s direction. “I’m a safer driver.” I turned on a little charm, hoping to catch her off guard like in the hallway.

“That’s alright, Avalon,” she replied and I could swear she was laughing at me. “I don’t like safe.”

I stared at her with a half open mouth as she picked out her own bike, wheeled it to the entrance, climbed on board and then kicked-started the red Ducati. She turned around and shot me a cocky smile before taking off through the open entrance while I was left staring at her taillights. Jericho picked up his jaw off the floor quicker than I could and took off after her. It took me seven full seconds before I managed to make myself move and in those seven seconds I decided something very important. Jericho and I had the kind of friendship that you didn’t risk over a girl.

Except for Amelia.

She was the kind of girl I needed to risk everything for.

Chapter Six

              I stayed behind Amelia and Jericho on the trip to the gypsy village. I could handle a motorcycle easily, even without the help of my magic. But so could Amelia and I couldn’t help but love the sexy way she took the sharp bends of the mountain roads at a too fast speed, or how she played around with her speeds and bike when she got bored. She got bored a lot. Even though we didn’t have a long drive, it was like she could barely tolerate it. She fidgeted and wiggled constantly and more than once I had to tear my eyes from her curvy little figure perched on top of that and back to the road to avoid disaster.

              Eventually we turned down the narrow dirt road that led away from the main highway and to the small cluster of huts and shacks that made up Ileana’s kingdom. Amory and Ileana had been close over time; he had taken care of her and even sought out her advice. She was known for her gift of prophecy. Although she didn’t see everything in the future, she had enough visions that her opinion and guidance were highly favored.

Amory had also exposed Kiran and Sebastian to the village their entire childhood. While I was off with Angelica hiding in various places all throughout the world, they spent their childhoods getting to know my grandfather and experiencing his methods of childrearing.

              Amory had done his best with Kiran in hopes of making him a great leader one day, in case all his other efforts with Lucan failed. Amory hated how Kiran turned out before Eden; despite all my grandfather’s efforts it seemed as if Kiran would be as awful as his father. Enter my sister, and the story changed.

              I supposed it turned out for the better, since even I had grown fond of the spoiled bastard.

              He, however, knew Ileana on such a deeper level than me; I hadn’t even met her until after Amory was dead. And not until we had secured the throne. Kiran, Eden and I had decided to keep an open, mutually beneficial relationship between our Kingdom and the gypsy village and Ileana genuinely seemed to like me. Granted she loved my sister like Eden was her own daughter, but I knew her affection for me would grow.

              It didn’t usually take females very long to fall in love with me, but Ileana was a bit unusual. And she had no intentions of marrying me, so that made it a little bit more difficult to flirt my way into her good graces.

              But I would wear her down.

              Eventually…. Especially since it did not bode well for me that I hadn’t been to visit her in over a year. I was going to catch hell for that.

Just as long as there was a decent meal at the end of her long lecture, I could sit through just about anything. I was well trained at spacing out, especially if I was in trouble.

Amelia slowed down and rolled her motorcycle next to a very old, very thick tree. She shook out her lush head of hair and didn’t even bother with a glance backwards before she was off into the village, immediately surrounded by a hoard of tiny, naked children. Jericho and I followed suit, stepping off our bikes and leaving our helmets balanced on the backs. I wiped the goofy smile off my face and straightened my spine, ready for Ileana’s attack. She was a wiry old thing.

Whack.

Ok, maybe not that ready.

“Ow!” I hollered in response, rubbing the back of my tender head. Magic filled in the painful spot with a soothing burst of electricity. Still, my pride was hurt. How the hell did she always sneak up on me?

“You’ve been away much too long,” Ileana chastised me in her Romanian-accented, craggily old lady voice that was filled with so much mischief it sounded like a child pretending to be an old person. “I have many things to tell you, but you stay away!”

“I apologize,” I offered quickly, taking a slow step backwards and trying to turn around before she could-

Whack.

This time it was my shin and she darted away while I clutched at my ankle and hopped around on one foot.

“Not good enough!” She barked.

What did she keep hitting me with? A cane? A freaking branch? It hurt like hell!

“Seriously, I’m very sorry!” I cried desperately, still hopping in place while my eyes darted around paranoid. I couldn’t feel Ileana’s magical current and therefore couldn’t anticipate where the next attack would come from. And nobody was apparently going to help me. Jericho was clutching at his sides while he laughed hysterically at my expense and I heard the children in an excited frenzy wherever Amelia was.

“What is your excuse?” she asked from a bit of a distance.

“I don’t have one,” I mumbled truthfully.

“At least no lies,” she stepped in front of me with no weapon in sight. She could easily be mistaken for a beggar rather than a gypsy queen. Her clothes were mismatched rags layered on top of each other, her golden nose ring was large and tarnished, her thick white hair was partially hidden beneath a dirty red bandana and her bangles and oversized golden earrings clanked noisily with every movement. Why hadn’t I heard them while she was attacking me? “You’ve been gone for too long. Amory was never gone this long. Kiran was never gone this long. You,” she pointed a gnarled finger at me. “You are gone much too long.”

“I know that. I said I was sorry,” I apologized again, feeling like a complete bastard. “It won’t happen again.”

“It will happen again,” she snapped back, but her eyes softened and her tone became careful.

That wasn’t an accusation. That was the future. She had seen something.

“What have you seen?” I cut straight to the point. Jericho gave me a questioning look but I waved him off. He wandered further into the village in search of Amelia, but some of the children had pulled her into their hut. I shook my head, realizing I hadn’t been intentionally watching where she was going, but I knew exactly where she was all the same.

“Do you know that most of your Kingdom doesn’t think it can be done,” Ileana mused, sparkly mischief returning to her voice. “They believe you will be single for centuries yet, ruling from your lonely castle alone. But I know better.” She winked at me.

“Do you now?” I laughed, hoping more than anything she wasn’t using one of her visions to set me up with someone. “I hope this isn’t the prediction you want to discuss.”

She laughed at me, actually laughed, like that was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Her mouth opened wide as she cackled with her head thrown back, revealing nearly bare gums and broken teeth. “I would not waste my gift on your unpredictable and fickle good graces. That would be asking for trouble.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, trying not to feel wounded.

“It means that we have more important things to discuss, and you better use your time wisely, or I will take up most of it,” she answered cryptically and then led the way to a couple of beat up plastic lawn chairs that denoted her place of honor in the small community. I actually preferred her version of a throne to my pretentious, golden monstrosity. Plus, these were way more comfortable and I got to enjoy the outdoors.

I took the seat to her right and stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak. She gestured first to the large bonfire set up in front of us. It wasn’t lit yet, but a large pile of freshly cut wood stood piled on top of each other, ready for the cooler evening. Using my magic, I lit the fire for her with a concentrated burst of electricity and settled into my chair while the small flames grew larger, licking the forest wood and sending heavenly scents of fall and smoke into the air.

The children filtered out of their huts now that there was something to warm their naked little bodies. Some of them had been given handmade scarves and sweaters and pants, and some just slipped on wool socks and beat up too big loafers and stood closer to the fire. The older children were layered in mismatched, ill-fitting clothes and went around with arms full of clothes trying to coax the still naked ones into something that would save their important appendages.

I laughed at a particularly stubborn little boy that would physically attack if anyone came near with a pair of pants. The boy liked his freedom. He stuck up his nose and lashed out with a swift kick if anyone got too close. That is until Amelia came out with a baby on her hip and her hair floating around her face in the early evening breeze. She took one look at the little boy, snatched up a pair of tweed pants and holey sweater and marched over to the little guy. He tried to ignore her, keeping his nose lifted in the air and turning his back on her. But with one soft hand on his shoulder and a whisper of something sweet in his ear, he fought a smile and slipped into the clothes she held out to him. Once he was fully clothed she mussed up his hair and gave him a quick kiss on the dirty cheek. He wasn’t able to keep the smile off his face any longer and ran off to brag to all his friends about Amelia’s kiss.

“She doesn’t like you,” Ileana laughed smugly when she caught what held my attention. “And not for the reasons you think.”

“So then why?” I asked, knowing I didn’t need to explain anything to the old woman or even ask her to explain what she thought was going on. Even if it wasn’t a vision, the woman saw and knew everything. I chalked it up to her mixture of intuitive humanity and useful magic.

“Ah, but you cannot win her heart unless you find out for yourself,” she mused, taking a cup of something hot and steamy from a girl around the age of thirteen. She offered a tin cup to me as well, and I took it, not wanting to offend my hostess. Hot tuaca. Ugh. Hot alcohol was rarely good, but their potent moonshine was downright dangerous. I sniffed at the steaming clear liquid and found exactly what I was expecting: a sweeter version of gasoline. 

“I’m not sure if I want to win her heart,” I looked across the fire to where she sat on a set of wooden steps with Jericho. She was laughing at something he said and her expression was so soft and so happy that it made my heart ache for something; something I didn’t even know was missing.

“Then you are a foolish man,” Ileana snapped, sitting up straighter in her seat. She was such a tiny woman, and I towered over her, it had never escaped my attention when she did her best to make herself bigger while hoping to intimidate me. “But, love makes us foolish too I suppose,” her tone softened.

“Either way I lose?” I bit back my smile, thankful that this was not the subject of her vision.

“Ah, you should decide that. But not tonight. Tonight you are not a king, you are a man. And you need to remember that. For men and kings have different needs and desires. And you are not one that indulges anything very often.” She sipped her tuaca, holding the steaming hot cup in her tiny, gnarled old hands. “You are like your grandfather in that way.”

              “Not my father?” I clarified, letting her observation fill me with pride.

              “No, you’re nothing like your father,” she grunted with a bark of a laugh. “Your father knew exactly what he wanted and went after it. You are nothing like him.”

              I felt the fullness of my pride deflate like a punctured balloon, squeaking out in a disappointing rush of emotion. I forced myself to take a drink of the scorching hot cup of liquid fire in my hands to keep myself from reminding her of how I went after the Monarchy, knowing that wasn’t what she was exactly talking about…. except I didn’t really know what she was talking about.

              Amelia stood up from across the fire, and as if she somehow knew my mood had changed she gave me a look of tight concern. I held her gaze, giving nothing away, but finding comfort in those warm, golden brown eyes that were at this moment, brighter than the flames burning the wood in front of me. She didn’t look away until a small child tugged at her hand and then she let herself be led to where I knew they would be cooking the meal for the evening.

“Alright, enough reminiscing,” I cleared my throat and forced my mind back to business. “What is this vision you’ve had?” I demanded, only softening my tone for the old lady’s benefit slightly.

“You’re not safe. Not anymore. Three years of peace, but they’ve been plotting and it’s your head they want next.” Ileana stated quickly, her eyes never leaving the fire.

The breath was knocked from my lungs as if someone had dealt me a physical blow. This wasn’t a warning, this was the future. I gripped the hot cup in my hands tightly making the poisonous alcohol slosh over the sides of the tin cup onto my jeans.

I knew this though. Instinctively, deep down inside of me I knew something like this was brewing. But having it said out loud by someone else, someone with a special insight, felt like nails being pounded into my premature coffin.