A Guiding Light Read online

  She hadn’t had any gray hairs I’d noticed despite the years since I’d last seen her, but I wasn’t sure if she’d dyed her hair or not. Women were tricky.

  “Stubborn from birth, I see.”

  “But why will she beat you? She loves you.”

  “Ask Dr. Stanton. She’ll explain the details,” Veronica replied. “She’s had children and can explain, and if the rumors are true, I’m sure Mrs. Penshire would love to tell you about how Adam came into the world.”

  “And this will help me get a little niece or nephew?”

  Veronica’s grin widened. “Definitely.”

  The woman I loved was the incarnation of pure evil, and I liked it. Marshal bounded out of the bedroom howling for Dr. Stanton, and once he was out of sight, I got out of bed, limped to the door, and closed it. Then I locked it before turning to Veronica. “Since Dr. Stanton will likely kill us both, I think we should take a relaxing bath with no care if my bandage gets wet. She can replace it with a new one for that stunt.”

  “And if you haven’t helped ensure my little brother gets what he wants, we’re putting in some extra practice. I approve. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better than yesterday,” I admitted. “You’re better than Dr. Stanton’s painkillers.”

  “If you’re trying to get a repeat, sir, you’re doing a good job of it.”

  Unable to help myself, I smiled. “Every chance I get for the rest of our lives.”

  Veronica’s expression darkened. “My father will try to kill you.”

  “The feeling’s mutual. He’s tried to have us both killed because we didn’t fit his plans. I’m going to be as careful as I can be, but yes, I’m aware we’re at risk. Both of us, not just me, not just you. We need to do this to protect the rest of your family and our kingdom, no matter what price we have to pay.”

  I wanted the time to build a family with Veronica, but if push came to shove, some things wouldn’t change.

  For her and my kingdom, I’d lay down my life. If it took my death to protect them both, I’d do so without regret. I had no doubt the thought scared her as much as it did me. I walked in her shoes.

  “I know.”

  I believed her. We were cut from the same cloth.

  We tested the patience of everyone in the sitting room, which likely included Marshal, my parents, Dr. Stanton, and four RPS agents. My strengthening bond with Veronica gave me the insight to understand she needed me as much as I needed her, and our bond gave her that, too. We had the wisdom to take the time we could.

  It might not last, and we agreed: we wanted to make every moment count if one of us didn’t see the rebellion to its bitter end.

  Our bath left me energized, and despite having ruined my bandage, when I removed it, I discovered the wound had stopped bleeding and looked far better than I thought it should. I credited the bath for my improved health; the warm water and Veronica’s enthusiasm had done me a world of good. I made it to the living room with a mild limp compared to earlier, and when I sat on the couch, Veronica looked like she wanted to take over my lap but settled with sitting as close to me as possible.

  “You two look disgustingly pleased with yourselves,” Dr. Stanton grumbled, shaking her head. “How is your leg, Adam?”

  “I might have misplaced my bandage.”

  “Mr. Smith!” my doctor howled.

  I propped my foot on the coffee table and pulled up my slacks so she could see the injury. “I think it’s looking good, and it doesn’t hurt much. Walking still isn’t enjoyable, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was yesterday.”

  Dr. Stanton strode over, bending over to have a closer look at my calf, her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to agree with your assessment. It is looking good—almost too good. You heal fast. How is your chest and back looking?”

  “Some purpling, but a lot of green and yellow,” Veronica reported.

  “The bruising is healing faster than normal, too. Good. It’s probably a reaction to your flare. That sometimes happens. I’ve learned magic will often react to keep its host alive, which can lead to enhanced healing rates.”

  “My mother is a healer type,” my mother added.

  “I refuse to acknowledge that your son might have a full dose of every talent your family line has to offer,” Dr. Stanton declared. “Please stop adding to my problems.”

  My father winced while my mother grinned. “It would be nice for him to have non-destructive talents. The illumination talent would come from his father’s father. We’ll make a list of talents in the family. How many generations do you want to go back?”

  “However many you have information for since magic became prevalent. How early did your family develop magic?”

  My mother shrugged. “From the start, although most branches were weak in the beginning. My grandmother elevated to elite status, but my grandfather’s side has always had elite status.”

  “My parents were both elevated from mid-caste to elite caste when their talents developed in their teens. Early bloomers,” my father added.

  “Enough, enough,” I begged. “I get it. I’m a freak. Can we move on already? What was reported on the news important enough to send Marshal into our room with a pregnancy test?”

  “You’re not at all embarrassed, are you?” Dr. Stanton sounded too pleased for my comfort.

  “I’m not, thank you. Can we please move on to more important matters?”

  “Securing the future heir of North Dakota is a very important matter.”

  “That’s a distraction ploy,” I guessed. “What are you trying to distract me from?”

  “Agent Porter? You’re the best one to brief them,” my doctor claimed, taking a seat on the RPS agent’s desk.

  Daniel bowed his head, and I was pretty sure the poor man muttered curses under his breath. He seemed tired, and I wondered if the man had gotten any sleep. “A mob is forming to lay siege to the castle, and we expect them to be in place within the next four hours. We need to make our move before this escalates into full violence. That’s going to be your problem. The news of the filings has spread through the rebellion, and the rumor on the street is that the people intend on offering you His Royal Majesty to be dealt with. That they want to take him alive is promising, but we expect the king will fight to the death. We’re expecting high casualties on both sides. I’ve already put in requests to supporting kingdoms for medical assistance should fighting occur—and everyone believes it will.”

  “Do we have any intel from within the castle?”

  “All but mandatory staff has been evicted. We believe the majority of those inside are military or the king’s mercenaries. We did manage to get a dossier on the company he hired. It’s worse than we thought; they’re an infantry unit with a specialization in bodyguard jobs. They used to work in security across various kingdoms but wanted more lucrative prospects, so they turned into a private organization serving elite and royalty. Until now, they’d been working as supplementary security for large events. They are not RPS approved, so few royalty would use them.”

  “Numbers? Skills?”

  “Approximately a thousand, and we don’t know how they’re distributed. They’re decently skilled but not to RPS standards. Most are mid-ranked talents, although there are a few elite among them. We don’t know if any of those elite are within the castle. They have a practice of using falsified identities, which the king could easily push through North Dakota’s legal system. It’ll take us time to link false identities with the mercenaries—time we don’t have.”

  “So, what’s the plan? I assume you’ve been making them while we were sleeping.”

  “Yes, sir. The majority of Montana’s supplementary personnel arrived in the kingdom in the middle of the night. Most are dressed as civilians but are carrying ordnance.”

  “What sort of ordnance?”

  “Explosives for Mrs. Penshire to use as needed, ammunition, weapons. They’re fully kitted for war. Your signed paperwork permits you to launch an off
ensive legally, albeit I would be very cautious about your chosen targets. The castle is a viable target, and we have enough plastics available to bring the entire building down. That’s likely our best bet. With the royal family demonstrating their talent for going undetected, we’re considering a full-scale offensive. It’s possible to hack into military communications to ensure as many people get out of the castle as possible before the detonation, but it would flush the king out or kill him.”

  A knock at the door startled everyone, and Veronica placed her hand on my chest to keep me seated. With his gun out, Daniel checked the door. I relaxed when he holstered his weapon and let Ian into the room with his RPS agents. “Your Highness.”

  “Have you broken the news to them yet?”

  “We just did, Your Highness.”

  “I’ve been informed I’m to do whatever you want. If I don’t, I’ll shame the family. I think I annoyed my parents. So, what can I do to help?”

  “How powerful is your talent, Your Highness?” Daniel looked the prince over. “We should have a spare vest that fits you. We can assign you as part of Mr. Smith’s detail. I trust you can handle single-target incinerations?”

  “I can do a lot more than that. I can reduce a tank to molten slag given five minutes.”

  “That’ll work. If you wanted to flash flame a tank, how long to disable it?”

  “If I’m using lethal force, no more than a few seconds. I’d rather not have to use lethal force. I can metal a barrel down within ten seconds if I’m concentrating my talent.”

  “Your job will be to help disable the tanks and incinerate anyone who takes aim at your charge.”

  “Looks like you’re stuck with me, Adam.”

  “This is a disaster waiting to happen. What am I supposed to be doing beyond making myself a target while Veronica and her family use their talent to place the explosives?”

  “That’s it. Get into the crowd, draw attention to yourself, try to prevent everyone from going near the castle while we finish placing the charges. Once set and everyone is confirmed out of the castle, Mrs. Penshire will detonate the explosives. None of our charges are primed, so the only way they’re going to go off is if someone were to set blasting caps and detonate them manually. None of our team brought any caps or wires to prevent anyone from being able to use the explosives.”

  “I’ll concede that’s a good safety precaution.” I ran my hands through my hair and ruffled it to buy myself some time to think. “I really don’t feel like getting shot again, so I presume I’ll have them with me, won’t I?”

  “If by them you mean your parents, yes.”

  “Be nice, Adam,” Veronica whispered.

  “I don’t want to be nice. I don’t want to be a target. I want this to be over.”

  “If all goes well, it’ll be done by the end of the day.” Daniel clenched his teeth, sighed, and said, “This is the touchy point. Your Highness, will you authorize Prince Marshal to help plant the explosives?”

  Everyone stared at Veronica, and I held my breath, wanting to say what I thought about including him in the plans to reduce the castle to rubble.

  She let out a gusty sigh. “It’s his choice. He understands the consequences of what we do as well as anyone else.”

  “I’ll help. If our father isn’t stopped, he’ll kill a lot of people, won’t he?”

  Why did he always have difficult questions to answer? “I think so.”

  “Then it needs to be done. I can hide the best of all my family. Just give us a distraction, and we can all go in. We know the castle better than anyone else.”

  “In case of the absolute worst-case scenario, one member of the royal family needs to stay safe, Your Highness. Who?”

  “Abigail,” I blurted.

  Veronica and Marshal stared at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Why?” Veronica demanded.

  Damn it, I’d put my foot in my mouth again, and I flinched at the anger simmering beneath the surface, known only to me. Justifying my opinion would take work, but I thought about everything I knew of the young woman before replying, “She’s old enough to rule if necessary, she’s young enough to have prospects and her choice of prince to help her rule, and she’s always seemed to be one of your more practical siblings. If it’s the worst-case scenario, the one left out needs to be ready to start ruling immediately. She seems like the best choice to me.”

  Veronica opened her mouth, and an eruption of curses emerged. I held my hands up in surrender, tense while waiting out the storm. It took her several long minutes to work her way through her vocabulary before she contained her anger, packed it away, and hid it on the surface.

  It still burned hot within her.

  “I think she’d be a good queen if she had to take up the mantle,” I concluded. “Obviously, I don’t want it to come to that. But Marshal’s too young, and the rest of your siblings…”

  Veronica’s anger snuffed out, leaving behind weary regret in its wake. “Of us all, they haven’t angered my father as much because they’ll bend when pushed. Abigail isn’t good at bending, is she?”

  “Not really.” I could remember a few times Veronica’s sister had flung rocks at me for doing some heinous act or another, although I’d forgotten most of the details. “I recommend no one be hurt, else Abigail might try to kill us herself.”

  “Valid point. All right, Abigail probably is the wisest choice. Where do we send her until this is over?”

  “His Royal Majesty of Montana can handle her security. He’s here, although he isn’t going to be participating in any assaults unless he determines it’s inevitable. An illusionist illuminator is masking his presence in North Dakota. His detail can protect Her Highness.”

  “I guess I don’t get to deal with the heads of detail, do I?”

  “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, sir.”

  I could live with that—and I hoped to. “All right. I just need to know what I need to do, when I need to do it, and how I need to do it.”

  “Our first stop is to get you a proper suit, as you need to look your best for this.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very. Should this go to plan, you’ll be a king today, and it’s important you look the part. We made our best estimates on clothing sizes for you, so we shouldn’t need to make many adjustments to your attire. Most importantly, your clothing will be as protected as the Montana RPS can make it on short notice. You will be wearing a specialized vest beneath your shirt. It’s thinner than the regular vests, but it’s strong enough to prevent standard ammunition from piercing it. However, it has a higher bruising ratio and hurts a lot more should you be shot, as there’s less material to buffer you from the rounds.”

  “I’m hoping not to be shot.”

  “That is ideal. Your father will be nearby to protect you on that front, but it’s possible he’ll be busy.”

  “And Veronica and her family?”

  “We have similar attire for them as well. They’ll be dressed as civilians, something few have seen, which should help mitigate some of the danger to them. We will also be making use of hair dyes and makeup to alter their appearances. Your Highness, with your permission, we may give you a traditional haircut to help with this.”

  “Hair grows back,” she replied.

  I sighed.

  “It grows back, Adam,” she snapped.

  “As long as someone trustworthy is handling the scissors and there are no explosives involved.” I shot a glare at my mother.

  “He very specifically said a traditional haircut, son. Stop being a baby over this.”

  “Empathic leeches of his strength are always sensitive towards their bond. It’s normal. It’s also good evidence his bond with her is developing. Adam, if she would like her hair to be longer, there are medical methods we can use to grow it to its original length should she not like the haircut.”

  I frowned. “And you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

  “Of course not.
”

  Veronica gave my knee a squeeze. “It’s okay, Adam. It’s just hair.”

  There was never a ‘just anything’ when it came to her, but I’d continue to fight that war another day. “All right.” I grimaced, realizing I’d put my foot in my mouth again. “I’m not that much of a male pig, really. I know it’s her hair. I just don’t want her to be forced to cut it. She should cut it because she wants to cut it.”

  “You’re so awkward, but it’s sweet. I understood, Adam. I’m cutting it because that’s what’s safest, and right now, safety trumps my hair. Mundane or magical means, it does grow back, and it’ll help keep me from being noticed. I’m of average height, so it really does make sense. I can’t hide I’m a woman, but I can change a lot about my appearance this way.”

  “All right. What about me, then?”

  “You need to be as distinctive and recognizable as possible. We’ll get the media’s help with that prior to making our move,” Daniel replied, closing his laptop’s lid, unplugging it, and packing it away in a briefcase. “Our first stop is to a suburb outside Fargo. Once we’re all kitted, we’ll head to the castle and finish this.”

  The time to run away had long passed me by, and I accepted the inevitable with a nod. If I had truly wanted to escape, I could’ve stayed in Hettinger or moved to another small town instead of returning to Fargo. No matter how I looked at it, nothing changed.

  For Veronica, I would do far more than lay siege to a castle and draw gunfire. I would do far more than agree to rule a kingdom to keep her in my life.

  Whatever she asked of me, I would do.

  I’d known that fact since the day a princess had fallen into a moat. I hadn’t needed Marshal’s gifts to understand I’d looked at the rest of my life when I’d first seen her, drenched, covered in mud, and bleeding where I’d hooked her.

  I liked to blame my talent for a lot of things, but I wanted to believe she’d felt the same way, which had tangled us together too tightly to ever escape.