Malevolenci Read online

  Owen rolled his eyes. “I was twenty.”

  “But never very mature.” Mirth smirked and took a sip of tea. “Anyway, Roman came into the room and asked Trent to join him in the library. They seemed to share an understanding, and Trent left with Roman. When he came back, Trent was very solemn and didn’t say a word but sat at your father’s bedside and looked upset.”

  Owen’s eyes lit with memory. “We brought Dad home the next day because the healers said there was nothing more they could do. I remember helping Trent lower Dad into your bed upstairs. Trent looked sad, but I was dealing with my own grief so I didn’t pay much attention.” He narrowed his brow as he tried to remember. “Trent and I left Dad to sleep. When we closed the door to stand in the hall, Trent put one of his big hands on my shoulder and told me I needed to be brave. He said my reign would start soon and that Dad was very proud of me.”

  Under the table, Esme squeezed Owen’s hand as she saw the sadness the memory had surfaced.

  Mirth’s own eyes had a shine of tears, but she smiled at her son.

  Owen pulled himself together. “Mom, you think Roman told Trent something?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Esme scrunched her face. “What could Roman have told him? You said Trent seemed to know more than Roman.”

  “That’s true.” Mirth had to agree and nodded.

  Esme tried to think. “What if Roman didn’t tell Trent anything? What if Roman asked Trent something?”

  Hakim lifted an eyebrow, and the Lord mother and son paused to consider. Nobody looked like they thought she was wrong.

  “Damn Roman.” Owen put his elbows on the table and rubbed his face. “Why the hell does that old man keep so many secrets?”

  Mirth snorted a laugh. “What’s the Order without its secrets?”

  Owen huffed. “But what if whatever Trent told Roman could help us win the war? What if this is something huge?”

  “Of course it’s something huge,” said Esme in annoyance. “Roman’s secrets are only huge.”

  “Oh!” yelped Mirth with a start. She looked at Esme, then turned to the jinn. “Hakim, be a dear and go fetch my handbag on the entry table.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Hakim made a confused face at Owen and Esme but rose from the table and walked back the way they’d arrived.

  Owen gave his mother a look. “Ma?”

  Mirth looked excited. “I completely forgot, but while I was in Italy I… Well, let me back up.”

  Owen shuffled on his seat and looked at his mother with rising frustration.

  “You know Trent died in Italy. He’d always said that, before he died, he wanted to live in the old country where the Order first began. He wished to be buried in the Order’s oldest cemetery. I thought that was creepy, but whatever.”

  Owen grinned. “I remember you trying to talk him out of it. You said he should be buried by Dad. Trent laughed at you.”

  Mirth sighed. “I could never talk either of those men out of anything.” She waved this off. “Anyway, I missed Trent terribly once he left us, but he called often.”

  Hakim returned with a rose-colored, expensive handbag and set it on the table in front of Mirth.

  “Thank you, dear.” Mirth opened her purse to rifle inside. “The point of this story is that on his last call, Trent told me he planned to hide a letter on the underside of his coffin. He told me that, should Owen ever find himself with an alterni endi, I should go to Italy, dig up his coffin, and retrieve the letter.”

  She pulled out a worn envelope and set it on the table by the biscuits.

  They all stared at it.

  Owen finally lifted his gaze to his mother’s smile. “Are you kidding me? You dug up Uncle Trent?”

  Mirth smoothed a sleeve of her blouse. “Well, I hired help. But I was there in person and guided them to the correct burial site. Once they had the coffin open, I climbed down myself and retrieved the letter.” She made a face. “I avoided looking in the coffin.”

  Owen was flabbergasted. “You’re a grave robber now?”

  With a twinkle in her eye, Mirth smirked at him. “Oh, please, Owen. You think that’s the craziest thing I’ve done? If I ever retire, I plan to write one hell of a memoire – the Chronicle of Mirth.”

  Owen gaped. He shook his head to refocus. “And this letter… Why didn’t you lead with this as soon as we got here?”

  “I told you, I forgot. I found the letter months ago. It was the first thing I did when I got to Italy – it’s the whole reason I went, originally. As soon as you told me Esme was an alterni endi, I knew I had to go. But then you two were running all over the country, so I decided to wait until you returned. Besides, I needed to stay a while in Italy to protect my cover story. I couldn’t let Roman or anyone else find out what I was doing, since Trent wanted to keep this so secret. It was convenient timing that the Order Museum needed my guidance.”

  Indiana Jones has nothing on this woman.

  Esme couldn’t hold back a smile of admiration, but she pointed at the letter on the table. “So what is it?”

  Mirth shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s sealed.”

  Owen pulled himself together and reached to carefully lift the envelope. Esme exchanged a perplexed look with Hakim and then leaned to see the envelope as Owen turned it over. There was no writing on the outside. It was indeed sealed with wax and a stamped “T.”

  When Mirth spoke, her voice had softened and sounded less excited. “It’s not for you, Owen. It’s for Esme.”

  Esme looked up from the envelope and saw the queen mother’s gaze fixed on her. “Me?”

  “Yes. And if you don’t mind, that letter’s had me curious for months. Do open it, if you’d be so kind.”

  Owen looked at Esme and spun the envelope in his fingers for her to grab. Esme took a deep breath and reached for it. She tried not to think about where the envelope had been. The paper felt old against her fingers, and she turned the envelope and slid her finger to break the wax. Inside was a single sheet of plain white paper, and this Esme withdrew carefully to unfold.

  Once she held the paper before her face, she read aloud the single word scrawled in the center of the page. “Meramec.”

  “What?” Owen took the paper and read it for himself. He turned the paper over, found nothing, and stared at the word.

  “Meramec.” Esme tried to think. “I know that word from my own world.”

  “Got it.” Hakim had his phone in front of his face, and he read whatever he’d found. “There’s a Meramec State Park on the other side of Missouri.”

  “That’s it.” Esme nodded, remembering. “I went there when I was six with my parents. The caverns were really cool.”

  Owen set down the letter and looked at his mom. “Any idea what Trent meant?”

  “No idea.” Mirth rested a hand under her chin. “Curiouser and curiouser…”

  Esme looked down at the paper.

  What is this? What did Trent know? What would he hide from Roman…and from everyone?

  Owen let out a long breath. “Tomorrow, I guess we’re going sightseeing.”

  Hakim, who no doubt knew he’d sit out this adventure, smoothed his tie and got back to immediate problems. “Meanwhile, what do we do about the paranormal meeting tonight?”

  They sat silent for a moment, and Esme smiled to herself when she saw Mirth looking to Owen for his decision.

  It must be hard to have lived her life and now be on the sidelines. She’s every bit as smart and wise as any king I’ve read about…but this is a man’s world. Owen is king, and I’m guessing she wants to let Owen stand alone. That’s why she’s chosen to stay out of politics…and now we’re dragging her back into it. Will the paranormals think we’re bringing her in because Owen can’t handle his job?

  There were many ways tonight could go, and Esme was nervous about all of them.

  Owen looked at Esme and said to everyone, “Times are changing. Esme and I aren’t only fighting to hold back the malevolenci �
� we’re fighting to defeat them and end this war. That means we’re throwing everything we’ve got into this fight, and we have to change the approach we’ve taken for centuries. No king had ever told an alterni about alterni endi before, but now Esme knows the whole truth. That was the best decision of my life…and telling my cavali team the truth felt just as right. Benja was right – knowing the truth unites us. If we’re going to win this war, we need everyone together.”

  Hakim raised an eyebrow. “But what if telling everyone the truth rips everything apart?”

  Mirth smirked at him. “Come on, jinn. Where’s your natural optimism?”

  Now Hakim smiled. “Forgive me, ma’am. It’s disorienting that Owen’s become so optimistic. I guess I’m subconsciously trying to restore balance to the universe.”

  “Very funny.” Owen grinned at his friend.

  Owen always felt nostalgic in this house and in his father’s study especially. The smell of the wood and the way the light sparkled in the stained glass windows reminded him of his boyhood days coloring in books on the sofa. The table where Esme and Hakim now played Chinese checkers had often been covered by his father’s Sunday papers. The brick fireplace in the far wall was where he and Hakim first roasted s’mores.

  His mother came to stand beside him as he leaned against the wide entry door. She smiled and watched Esme and Hakim, much as Owen was doing. “I like her,” she whispered.

  Owen grinned. “Good, because I plan on keeping this one.”

  His mother studied his face, her blue eyes narrow. “I hope so, Owen. Because I plan to keep you both.”

  She’s thinking of the Oath of Kings. Man, I wish Dad had never burdened her with that… But honesty is the new policy, right? And maybe it’s eased her mind to know the malevolenci want to keep me alive.

  “Yes!” Esme exclaimed. “Suck it, Hakim! Who’s got the luck of a jinn now?”

  Owen reached out to put an arm around his mother’s shoulders. He squeezed her tightly as he watched the love of his life defeat his best friend for the third time in a row.

  Owen eyed the crowd packed into Marybeth’s restaurant. The paranormal leaders were in attendance as usual – Joe for the nymphs, Piper for the fairies, of course Marybeth for the trolls, Gil for the goblins, Oliver Leaflen for the elves, the newly promoted Ali for the jinn, the alpha Brun for the werewolves, and the vampire sire Rylet. What was unusual about this meeting was that extra fairies, jinn, and vampires had arrived with their leaders. The leaders sat at the big round table with Owen, Esme, and his mother. The extra paranormals either sat in chairs behind their leaders or stood in the background.

  Great, thought Owen. I’m gone for a couple of months, and they decide it’s fine to change the rules.

  Fortunately, he’d gotten wind of this development from Joe and brought his own backup. Benja stood in street clothes with the additional jinn. Tank sat behind Marybeth, who’d passed out trays of barbecued meat to anyone who wanted it. Dax and Max stood with arms crossed behind Brun, the gray-bearded alpha.

  Owen’s stomach was in knots, but it would be rude to refuse the troll’s meal. Plus, it smelled delicious. Free of his coat, he shoved up his sleeves and dug in. The paranormals followed his lead, and soon the not-so-sophisticated sounds of slurping filled the restaurant.

  To his right, his mother had a pinkie up as she nibbled meat off a rib. “Mmm. As good as ever, Marybeth.”

  The large woman, her expression what Joe referred to as “resting troll face,” gave Mirth a nod which could’ve meant anything.

  That could be bad. I’ve heard the trolls are upset because they feel like the Order expects them to live in squalor. I thought making that school for troll kids would help, but… I need the trolls with me. They’re some of my best cavali.

  “Gil,” said Owen as he finished a rib and picked up another. “I wanted to start by telling you I’ve decided to sell my penthouse. I had Hakim put it on the market yesterday. He says offers are rolling in. It’s listed for two million, and I’d like the funds to go toward construction of a troll community on our land in the Ozarks.”

  Marybeth actually smiled.

  I love trolls. Simple needs. Simple solutions.

  The little goblin, however, pulled a rib bone from his mouth and scratched a pointed ear. “Two million would go a long way to paying for your recent travel expenses, my lord.”

  Cat balls! Cut me a break, Gil.

  Owen noticed Brun grinning under his beard. Everyone knew werewolves and trolls were competitive, vying for top status as the Order’s toughest race. Since the werewolves had a retreat in Texas, that was no doubt part of why the trolls wanted one of their own.

  Across the table, Piper raised her perfectly manicured hand. “I’d like to help with the king’s travel expenses.”

  Didn’t see that coming.

  The goblin turned to the fairy. “No offense, sparkly, but it would take a hefty contribution to make a dent.”

  “I understand that.” Piper gave the ugly little man a polite smile. “My moms died last month and left me a substantial inheritance.”

  Gil’s pointed nose twitched. “How substantial are we talking?”

  “Rude…” Piper shifted her translucent wings, which draped over her body like a dress. She faced Owen with a smile. “I can donate the two million that was mentioned.”

  The paranormals looked at each other, and the group of fairies in particular turned their backs to the main table and whispered amongst themselves.

  That could mean trouble. Joe said the fairies are accusing the Order of lying about all kinds of things. But Piper’s willing to drop two mil on my travel bills?

  He wiped a sauce-covered hand on his napkin. “Are you sure, Piper? We can find the cash elsewhere.”

  “That’s a laugh,” muttered Gil.

  Piper glanced to either side of the table. “My lord, your team flew around the country to fight malevolenci and protect us. I’m happy to do whatever I can to contribute to the cause. Not all of us think the Order should hand us gifts without giving back.”

  This pointed statement set off another round of whispers around the room.

  “Ah, hell.” Mirth tossed her hands in the air and smiled at the fairy, then the goblin. “Piper’s such a doll, she’s convinced me to chip in. I have a set of candlesticks loaned to the museum downtown. I’m willing to sell them for…let’s say half a million. I’ll throw in that cash to the cavali travel fund.”

  Gil laughed around his mouthful of barbecue. “Half a million for candlesticks?”

  Owen watched his mother and saw a twinkle in her eye that he recognized from many teenage episodes when she’d outplayed him.

  Mirth feigned surprise that the goblin doubted her. “Well, they’re ancient. And it’s not every day you find elven silverwork that once belonged to a famous alterni.”

  Seated beside Esme, Oliver sat forward in his chair. He lifted a questioning finger. “Excuse me, Ms. Lord. Do you mean the candlesticks made for Elaine during King Dante’s rule?”

  “Of course. I’ve already arranged to relocate them to the new Order Museum in Italy. The candlesticks certainly aren’t appreciated where they are. I mean, it’s not like civilians can tell elven craftsmanship from… What did I tell the curators?” She tapped her chin, trying to remember. “I believe I said they were from an artist in Prague.”

  “I’ve seen them in the museum here. They’re undeniably of elven creation, so I assumed a civilian owner simply didn’t know what they had.” Oliver chuckled, then put a hand over his heart. “I’d be thrilled to purchase Elaine’s candlesticks and return them to my people. But half a million is far too little for such a treasure, Ms. Lord.”

  She waved this off. “Oh, I know. But they belong to your people, so I won’t gouge you. Donate half a million to the cavali travel fund, and we’ll call it a deal.”

  Oliver looked happier than a goblin in a vault of coins. “Thank you, Ms. Lord.”

  A fairy murmured, “B
oring.”

  Owen cleared his throat to regain attention. “Thank you, Piper, Mom, and Oliver.” He looked at Gil. “That settle things? Put the two million from my penthouse toward the troll community. Put Piper’s and Oliver’s money toward our travel expenses.”

  Gil chewed his meal with a grouchy look but gave a nod.

  There’s no satisfying the goblins. I’m not even going to bother trying to make Gil happy. Freakin’ accountants.

  Owen’s hands were as clean as they could get for now, and he clapped them together as if he was making great progress. “Great. So now I’m homeless.” He turned to Esme. “By the way, this is my subtle way of asking if I can move in.”

  Esme’s mouth twitched in a smile, but she faced the table and said in a deadpan tone, “Technically you own the house anyway.”

  Gil made a face.

  “Moving away from finances…” Owen drummed the table. He turned to Brun on the far side of Mirth. “Any incidents during the full moon yesterday?”

  Brun shook his head. “No, my lord. We got everyone to Texas in time.” The big man glanced at Piper, then back at Owen. “Our pack is eternally grateful for the retreat you gave us. I don’t have millions to contribute, but you have my word that the werewolves will help you however we can wherever your hunt takes you next.”

  “Thank you, Brun.”

  The bearded man nodded and looked glad to be done speaking. Behind him, Owen saw Dax and Max smiling with pride.

  Werewolves, check. At least for now.

  Owen turned next to Ali and the jinn seated behind the slick man in his Italian suit. What Joe had told him about the jinn was disturbing enough to require a direct approach. Owen gave Benja a subtle look, and he saw her nod. If things blew up, she’d jump in and try to counter any curses the jinn might throw around the room.

  He also glanced at Rylet and the vampires standing behind their sire’s chair. They were so still and expressionless that Owen couldn’t read them. Their pale skin, blood-red eyes, and gothic black clothes were creepy at the best of times. Now…