Chapter 19 – GEO #2
"Fuck!" I snarl, grabbing Cosima by the arm. Knight immediately snarls at me, the sound low and possessive, but I know he'll follow wherever she goes. That's one thing I can count on with the big bastard. "You two split off! Don't tear the damn place apart!" I yell at Raven and Nikolai.
Nikolai looks like he'd rather eat glass than partner up with Raven, but the golden-haired idiot is already grabbing him, pushing him through the panicking crowd in the opposite direction.
"Don't let anything happen to her!" Raven calls to me over his shoulder in a vaguely threatening sing-song. Like they're the ones I need to worry about.
I'm actually more concerned about Cosima starting trouble than Raven. At least he has some sense of self-preservation. Cosima? She'd probably walk up to the Queen herself and demand answers about Azarel if given the chance.
"This way," I mutter, pulling her down a side corridor as armed guards rush past us toward the source of the commotion.
The palace is rapidly emptying as people flee the smoke, which gives us more freedom to explore.
We duck behind an enormous curtain as more guards thunder past, their boots echoing on the marble.
"This would be a better disguise for Knight," Cosima says, eyeing a row of suits of ceremonial armor displayed in an alcove.
Before I can object, she's already putting the helmet over Knight's head and draping the decorative dark cloak over his shoulders. With the armor covering his modern tactical gear, he actually looks the part. Like some ancient guardian who's always belonged here.
"Where would the royal family's private quarters be?" I mutter, glancing around. Place is like a damn maze.
Cosima moves to a window, peering out at the gardens below.
"There," she says, pointing across a courtyard to another wing of the palace.
"Azarel told me once about the trees he could see from his bedroom window.
Those exact trees, overlooking the gardens.
The family quarters must be on the other side. "
"How quaint," I mutter, already calculating the best route.
We climb through the window—or at least, Cosima and I climb while Knight tears part of the frame off like it's paper to get through after us.
But we make it out without causing immense structural damage, at least. The gardens are pristine, every hedge trimmed so not a single leaf is out of place, every flower bed arranged in perfect symmetry.
It's the kind of obsessive attention to detail that makes my teeth itch.
Give me the chaotic beauty of the wasteland any day over this manufactured perfection.
We circle around to the side of the palace, staying low and using the decorative shrubbery as cover. Even the royal family's quarters are being evacuated, guards ushering what must be servants and staff out through side entrances.
"What the hell is going on?"
Plague. That icy tone is unmistakable.
We press ourselves deeper into the shadows as he strides into view, every inch the military commander despite his princely robes. Two guards trail behind him, practically running to keep up.
"Your Highness," one pants, "there was a fire near the visitor's entrance."
"A fire," Plague repeats, his voice flat. "In my mother's palace. During public tours."
The guards exchange nervous glances. "Yes, Your Highness. It's contained and we're following protocol—"
"Shut down the tours for the rest of the day," Plague cuts them off. "I want every available guard searching for the cause of this 'fire' and whoever started it. My omega and my other mate are coming to the palace tomorrow morning. I won't take any chances with their safety."
"Of course, Your Highness," the guards chorus.
They follow him around a corner, and I catch the tail end of their muttered conversation once he's out of earshot.
"Even more uptight and scary than before..."
"Having his omega nearby..."
When their footsteps fade, we creep to the window Plague just left through. The room beyond is clearly his office. Everything is arranged perfectly. Not a single paper is out of place.
"In we go," Cosima whispers, already climbing through.
Knight starts prying off this frame, too, but freezes when it makes a tearing sound. He slips through after Cosima more carefully.
Oh yeah. He's waking up in there, alright.
"This has to be Plague's office. Probably the only place he can get work done with Valek around," I mutter, taking in the spotless desk, the perfectly aligned books, the complete absence of any personal touches.
Oh. Except for a tacky bobblehead of a plague doctor holding up a sign that says Wash Your Hands. Must have been a gift from someone with absolutely zero taste.
Cosima immediately starts snooping, picking up papers from his desk without a lick of fear. Must be nice.
I grab a file from under a glass of what looks like water.
It's a soldier's dossier from Surhiiran special forces, but Plague has scrawled "INEXPERIENCED" across the male beta's photo in red ink.
Another file, this one from New Reinmich, is marked "APTITUDE TESTING SCORES INADEQUATE.
" A third shows a scarred female alpha from Surhiira labeled "POTENTIAL CANDIDATE. "
"Looks like the Ghosts really are retired," I mutter. "Prince Germaphobe is looking for replacements."
"It's a shit job, so good luck with that," Cosima says. "There's a reason my father and General Hargrove recruited an alpha from death row." She studies the bookshelves with a grimace. "Everything is alphabetized and color coordinated. Is he a prince or a serial killer?"
"Might be both," I quip.
Knight's staring down a stick of incense burning in a holder on the desk like he's considering destroying it, clearly bothered by the scent.
I can relate. The heavy perfume mutes everything else, including what occasional hint of Cosima's intoxicating smell I can catch.
I find myself frustrated more often lately that I can't scent it fully with my damaged sense of smell.
Or Raven's, for that matter.
But I push the thought aside. Weird for me to be bothered by something like that. I'm not some lovesick alpha pining after—
The clink of glass on wood snaps me back to attention.
Cosima is pouring something from a small satchel she was keeping gods know where into the empty water glass on Plague's desk, her movements quick and practiced.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I hiss, lunging forward. "I thought I said no poison!"
"I never agreed," she says innocently, but before I can reach for the glass, we hear footsteps in the corridor outside.
Shit. No time.
"Window," I whisper angrily, already moving.
We scramble for the exit, but Knight's too slow to maneuver quickly through the window.
Fortunately for the structural integrity of the wall, not to mention our cover, he changes his mind at the last fucking second and moves into the shadowed corner of the room.
With the helmet and cloak, he almost looks like a decorative suit of armor on display.
Almost, anyway.
Cosima and I barely make it outside before the door opens. We press ourselves against the wall outside, and Cosima raises a finger to her lips.
I'm fuming. She deliberately disobeyed me and went ahead with her poisoning plan despite my explicit orders. Part of me wants to drag her back to the inn and give her the lecture of a lifetime.
Another part—a part that's growing stronger by the minute—wants to make good on that threat from earlier about putting her over my knee.
I shake my head hard, trying to dispel the image.
This is neither the time nor the place for those kinds of thoughts.
We're in enemy territory, Knight is trapped in Plague's office with a poisoned glass of water on the desk, and I'm standing outside the window getting hard thinking about spanking the most troublesome omega in existence.
Just another fucking Tuesday.