Chapter 50 - Brooke
Brooke squeezed her blubbering friend and patted her back. “It’s a mess. I know. I know.”
Sam pulled away and gave her a pointed look. “And that’s supposed to help?!”
“Hey, you know I’m not good at this. Besides, I’m mad at you.”
They had been sitting on the bed of what seemed to be the only bedroom in the tiny apartment for the last thirty minutes. They’d told each other everything that had happened while everyone else waited outside, as they very well should. To say that she and Sam had some serious catching up to do was the understatement of both their lifetimes.
“Mad at me?” Sam asked, incredulously.
“Yeah, for keeping me in the dark all this time. God, why didn’t you trust me?!”
“You’re seriously going to give me a hard time right now?”
Brooke pursed her lips and looked at the ceiling, weighing the question. “I guess things are going shitty enough for you that I can grant you swift forgiveness.”
“Well, that’s very nice of you.”
“Thank you.” Brooke batted her eyelashes at a glowering Sam.
They shared a charged glare.
“Feel better?” Brooke asked after a moment.
Sam gave her a sad smile. “A bit. I guess we should . . .” She hooked a thumb toward the door.
“Yeah, you should meet Joao and Calisto. They’re pretty cool. Plus, there’s something else I haven’t told you,” Brooke said cautiously.
She hadn’t mentioned Roanna and Bernard yet. She’d tried, but she’d been afraid of the questions that would inevitably follow, questions for which she’d probably have no answers. She had no real information on Sam’s parents’ whereabouts (she’d never even learned the name of the town she’d been taken to,) what they were up to with that MORF rebellion group or what it all meant for Sam. Joao and Calisto would probably be better suited to answer anything along those lines.
“Something else. Something bad?” Sam looked scared as a little girl after a nightmare. It’d been rough enough already, she clearly wanted no news if it wasn’t good.
“No, nothing bad. I promise. Actually, I think it’s pretty awesome. C’mon, let get out there.”
Once out of the bedroom, they found everyone hanging out by the small kitchen.
“Oh, coffee!” Brooke exclaimed when she noticed everyone holding a mug. “Can I have a cup? Please?”
“Sure,” a somewhat familiar-looking blond man said as he pulled out two extra mugs from a glass-panel cabinet. “You too, Sam?”
“Yes.” She sidled up to Greg, who wrapped an arm around her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. Brooke felt sorry for Ashby, but these two belonged together. Anyone with two eyes and two ounces of brain could see that.
“What an exciting night,” a little boy said from a high stool where he was perched like a cute parrot. He had a mug too, but his had milk, judging by the white mustache across his upper lip.
“Most of us wouldn’t call it exciting, son,” a tall man stepped behind the boy and put a hand on his shoulder.
Brooke looked around and, for the first time, noticed Perry was missing. “Where’s Perry?”
“He left a few minutes after Ashby,” Calisto said. “He didn’t think it was a good idea for Ashby to be alone, even if he was ordered to stay.”
The blond man walked around the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room and handed Sam and Brooke their coffee mugs. She took a sip and had to smack her lips. It was good.
“I’m Mateo, by the way, and this is my place,” the coffee god said. “These here are Jacob, Bruce and Elizabeth.” A middle aged lady gave Brooke a finger wave from her spot on a low cot by a set of windows.
Brooke nodded at her, then lifted her mug in a reverent salute to Mateo. He chuckled and got back into the kitchen. An awkward silence followed, in which every pair of eyes seemed to focus on Brooke for some reason. She fidgeted for a moment until she realized they were all just following Sam’s lead. Her friend was staring holes through Brooke.
“Right,” she said. “You’re wondering about that other thing I mentioned.”
Sam raised an eyebrow in response.
“Well, it’s about your parents.”
With a jolt, Sam pulled away from Greg. “What? My parents?”
“Yes, I met them. They came looking for you the day of the party. But all hell broke loose and you and Greg disappeared, so . . .”
“Roanna and Bernard?” Sam pronounced the names as questions, sounding uncertain of more than just the names.
“Yes, they’re back together because of you, and they’re with this MORF group, planning to take back the Regency.” Brooke felt all excited for some reason. As if any of this had anything to do with her. But princess stories happened to others, not her.
“With MORF?” Mateo said, his black eyes going all wide and sparkly. Why did his eyes look so familiar? Brooke scratched her head.
“What is . . . MORF?” Sam asked.
“It’s a group that was formed fifteen years ago by members of the council who were loyal to your mother. They suspected foul play from Danata when Roanna was supposedly killed in a car crash. They asked me to join back then, but . . .” He trailed off. “I had no idea they were still around.”
“Oh, they’re still around, all right,” Joao said.
“Wait a minute,” Calisto said. “Your name is Mateo, and the last name on the bell outside was . . . Fates! Are you Mateo Espina?”
“What? You know him?” Brooke looked back and forth between them. “Man, this is getting so convoluted.”
“I don’t know him,” Calisto said. “I’ve heard his name. You’re Ashby’s father, aren’t you?”
“Oh, brother!” Brooke exclaimed. No wonder the man looked familiar. “Maybe it’ll turn out I’m half Morphid and my super power is matching purses and shoes perfectly. Something’s gotta give.”
“I imagine my name isn’t well-spoken of in those circles.” Mateo lowered his gaze.
“Not really,” Joao piped up.
Calisto elbowed him.
“It’s all right,” Mateo said. “Not a day goes by that I don’t think of all the pain I could have prevented if . . .”
Joao shifted on the spot, clearly wishing he had kept quiet about Mateo’s not-so-hip reputation. He cleverly shifted his attention back to Sam. “Your mum and dad are dying to see you. You should come with us. MORF can keep you safe.”
“Where . . . where are they?” Sam asked.
“Our—” Joao started, but Calisto didn’t let him finish.
“One of MORF’s secret locations.” She gave her brother a nasty glance.
“Secret, huh?” Greg said. His blue eyes flashed to Sam with a warning.
“Well, it is,” Calisto said. “And I totally understand if you’re suspicious. You don’t know us, so why trust us? We’re in the same boat.” She looked around the room, pausing a bit longer on the three adults.
“So?” Brooke stretched out the word. “What do we do then?”
“Personally, I’d like to go home,” Joao said, “but it seems our chauffeur isn’t here.”
“You have a chauffeur?” Milk-mustache boy, Jacob, asked, looking as innocent as a bag of kittens.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not the kind of chauffeur you’re thinking of, Jacob.” Sam smiled at the kid with fondness and Brooke knew right away that the boy had Sam wrapped around his little finger.
Darn cute boys get all the perks.
“No, Jacob,” Calisto, who stood next to the boy, leaned toward him with a smile. “We’re talking about our friend, Perry. He’s a Sorcerer and can take us wherever we need to go in a matter of seconds.”
“Awesome,” Jacob said, his blue eyes full of dreamy stars. “I hope I morph into a Sorcerer. That would be sweet.”
“Sorcerers get a good rep.” Calisto twisted her mouth as if she thought little of them. “But there are other castes just as cool or cooler even.”
“They have romanticized themselves, haven’t they?” Mateo put in.
“This is all very nice, but we still don’t know what we’re going to do,” Brooke said.
“I think we should sleep on it,” Greg offered. “Think about everything.” He rubbed Sam’s upper arm and gazed at her with an ardent look in his eyes that made Brooke want to curse the world for not giving her a love like that.
There’s still time, little Brooke. Plenty of it. You’ll get your Romeo.
“Yes,” Sam said. “It’s a lot to . . . process. I need to think about everything.”
Brooke felt for Sam. The poor girl looked so confused, and what else could she expect? Her whole life had been thrown into chaos. Just a few months ago, all she’d ever wanted was to graduate high school, move out of her parents’ house and become a chef. Now, she probably counted herself lucky if she got within inches of a simple spatula and an egg.
“That sounds great!” Brooke said, making her way toward the door and gesturing at Joao and Calisto. “We all need some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow. C’mon guys, let’s get back to the hotel.” And with that, they left and caught a cab back to the Plaza.
They arrived twenty minutes later and rode the elevator, yawning like whales.
“Sleeping on it was the right idea. Remind me to thank that Greg guy,” Joao said.
They parted in the hall and headed to their respective rooms. Brooke yawned again and stuck the key card into the key slot, peeking through barely open eyes. She walked in and let the door close behind her. The lights were off, except for the faint glow coming from the crack under the bathroom door.
Didn’t I leave a lamp on?
The sound of running water came from the bathroom. Her heart skipped a beat, then her brain caught up. She smiled. Perry didn’t give up easily.
Sleep forgotten, she threw her purse on a chair and turned when the bathroom door opened.
A scream caught in her throat as the man who stepped through the threshold lifted a hand and, from ten feet away, clutched her neck with a vicious and invisible force.
The man tsked, tsked. “We wouldn’t want to wake up the guests, Ms. Perez. Not in a hotel like this. They would never let you visit again.”