Page 98 of The Prince of New York

“Oh, he already knows. I just got off the phone with him, and they’re on their way here to evaluate how bad the damage is. If it’s just some bullet holes, it’ll be fine, he’ll just be grounded for a while. The plane is old enough it needs taken fully apart and redone anyway, so don’t stress over it. Mostly, he wants to see that Daphne actually escaped unscathed because he doesn’t believe there was a terrorism incident she didn’t get directly involved with.”

Terry snickered. “She was driving the girls, and at that point, Aunt Daphne came out to play. She wanted to deal with the terrorists, but she accepted I would be dealing with the terrorists. I haven’t told her Ian dealt with the terrorists. In her world, I did the heavy lifting. She adores Ian, make no mistake about that, but she forgets Ian is absolutely able and willing to slag a tank in less than ten seconds. A flesh and blood terrorist isn’t a challenge.”

Ethan’s mother heaved a sigh. “I tried to tell Will that, but he didn’t listen. Ian, once he sees your children, he will realize they’re living, breathing people his cousin was responsible for. Then he’s going to have a fit. I’m pretty sure you are going to be the calmest person in my palace by the end of the day, and you’re the one who got shot!”

“I’m just going to apologize in advance for the chaos I’m going to create once the fever hits.”

“Whyareyou going to be fevered? I’ve been warned like six times already that you are definitely going to have a fever, it’s going to be a nasty one, and when you get nasty fevers, you wander around in a rather mindless state. I was given instructions to close all doors, because you can’t figure out how to operate doors when fevered.” The queen opened the door for my suite and waited for me to hobble inside. Isla slept in a large cage in the sitting room, which had numerous levels for her to explore, toys dangling from most surfaces, and several blankets over the top. “I’m not sure I can handle you with a fever, Ian.”

I reminded myself I needed to title her or call her Mom, and then I decided to ham it up and whine, “Mom, I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, you are. And my boys try that on me, and it doesn’t work, but you might get away with it depending on the reason for your fever. Talk, child!”

I grinned at her. “I may have used an enhancer, and one of the side effects is a fever. As I didn’t want to take any chances with an airstrip loaded with terrorists, I went to town. I don’t have exertion, though. The enhancer has a fail-safe in it; if it detects exertion, it suppresses and shuts down most talent usage.”

“I am accepting this explanation, and I’m not telling anyone you have an enhancer, because the only thing that might worry me more than a New Yorker is a New Yorker with an enhancer. Please tell me those assholes didn’t have enhancers.”

“Very few people know I have an enhancer, and Dr. Stanton stole it so it could be checked. I hope I get it back. It cost me a fortune—and I want it if a few people are stupid enough to come near me right now. And yes, I mean your ex, Madelyn. I really want to punch him in the mouth.”

“I’d rather he take a long walk off a short pier. He doesn’t know how to swim.”

I eyed her with a growing sense of worry. “Do you know how to swim?”

“I can doggy paddle, but that’s it.”

“I’m teaching you how to swim, and once I’m done teaching you how to swim, I’m teaching you how to beat the shit out of anyone who gets in your space that you don’t want in your space,” I informed her in a solemn tone. “After I’m done doing that, I will be teaching you how to use a gun.”

Terry sighed, pointed at a nearby armchair, and snapped his fingers. “Sit down, Ian. Madelyn will be fine, and we have a team watching the ex. There may be some reasons for concern, but the Californians do not take kindly to abusive assholes. That reminds me, Madelyn, we need a truth verification he struck you. I know we did verifications in New York, but we need them done here. California has strict laws about abuse, especially after what happened to Cassandra, and we just need a local documented record.”

Ethan’s mother wrinkled her nose and got out her phone, tapping at the screen. “There has to be a truth sensor in this place somewhere. I’m sure we can find one and get that paperwork processed in ten minutes flat. Ian, in California, all you have to do to take legal action is notify the abuser there is an active and verified record of assault against a domestic partner. If he doesn’t immediately leave, you are permitted to use force to make him leave. If he does not get the hint, you can dispatch him however you see fit. As Madelyn’s temporary residence is the palace for your visit, he is not permitted to step foot on royal property—any royal property. If there’s a restraining order in place, you don’t have to notify the abuser; they know they aren’t supposed to be anywhere near their target.”

As Terry would help me sit if I didn’t listen to him, I did as told, thumping onto the cushion and stretching out my legs. Both ached, albeit for different reasons. “I like some of these rules, Terry. Can we make a list of them for my sister?”

“I am sure your sister would be willing to discuss it with you. If it keeps you awake, I’ll even text her that she needs to be your entertainment until supper, and she’ll get into an argument over it with you.” The RPS agent chuckled, removed Pink Lady from his pocket, and handed her to me before escaping his jacket, which hadn’t escaped from our trip to the airstrip unscathed. He held up the garment, stuck his finger through a bullet hole through the edge, and shook his head. “I keep telling them we need to adjust the bulletproofing to go farther down the jacket. Had the angle been different, that might have hurt.”

“Your slacks don’t have bulletproofing?”

“They do, but it’s not complete protection.” Terry sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “I liked this jacket, too.”

“You have at least four jackets exactly like it,” I reminded him, settling Pink Lady on my shoulder and petting her little head. She snuggled with me, and I smiled at her. “You could patch it and use it for mud run days.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll do that. I’ll just have some explaining to do when Olivia finds out.”

“Just tell them the terrorists did it, and the terrorists did not live to learn from their mistake.”

The RPS agent chuckled, and he tossed his jacket onto one of the free chairs. “Madelyn, if you need to do anything or take a breather, I can keep an eye on him for a few minutes. Perhaps bring some of your art supplies in? We acquired some watercolor painting books for Ian, so maybe he can be kept occupied that way. He’s always enjoyed art, and I’m sure watching you paint will be of interest to him. He would prefer if his sister sent him to museums and fine art exhibits more often.”

I eyed Terry, wondering what his game was. However, he told nothing but the truth. “Upon learning, as a child, that I could ask RPS agents to take me to museums and art galleries without consequence, I asked early and often, and I dragged Rachel along with me whenever I could.” I even had a few paintings my parents had acquired for me because during the rare times I’d been allowed to be the conversationalist, I’d babbled about them to the point my father had decided to investigate and see what I was on about.

My mother couldn’t have cared less about art, but my father had at least one redeemable characteristic, and an enjoyment of some art was it.

“Oh. Do you have a preferred style?”

“Once, my parents took me to France, and I pulled that stunt about one of the paintings. The museum was about to change over their stock, and I did nothing but gush about that painting. I think I was maybe eight or nine at the time. My mother was a hair from killing me because France’s monarchs were with us. Her Royal Majesty bailed my ass out, because she encouraged my gushing, and she praised me to my mother about my interest in art.” Careful to keep from dislodging Pink Lady, I dug out my phone, went into my photo gallery, and located a picture of the painting in question. “Right now, it’s in the family wing of the palace, because it was one of the only ways Rachel could get me to visit her. She’d ambush me when I visited my painting. It’s actually painted by two artists. Andries Daniels painted everything except parts of the vase, which was done by Frans Francken II.” I showed her the painting, which depicted tulips in a vase on a dark background resting upon a wooden tabletop. “We actually have a bunch of these tulips at the palace because Iobsessedover this painting. I didn’t know my father had arranged to purchase it for me until we were about to leave France. He wanted to keep me out of trouble, so he said I had to guard it and make sure nobody except the specialty movers touched it, as it was my painting and he wasn’t going to keep an eye on it. I got to escort it onto the plane. My mother actually took that photograph and had it on her phone at the time, and I basically stared at it the entire flight.”

“Isn’t it a long flight?” Madelyn blurted.

“I stared at a painting for at least six hours on the plane,” I confirmed. “At some point, I went to sleep, but I was the quietest person on that flight. My mother sometimes bribed me with random paintings if she knew we had a long flight ahead of us, as she could just give me a phone with the pictures, and I’d amuse myself.”

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