Page 2 of Iron Unicorn

Most forgot Daphne Niell, when she wasn’t hunting terrorists and putting on a brave face, had a caring heart. Few understood she hunted terrorists to save as many as she could in a way only she could.

With a little coaching from her cousin, the Vampire of Montana had the resources needed to send me off to Houston. If His Royal Majesty had helped, one command would have been sufficient to remove my memory of the journey.

I struggled to believe either one would do it, however.

They preferred making their targets go where they wanted of their own free will.

After a walk around the nearest block, I found a quiet bench out of the way of pedestrian traffic and took the time to search my pockets. The presence of a wallet intrigued me, especially as it wasn’t mine. I preferred the smallest wallet money could buy, keeping my mandatory identification cards and two credit cards on me along with a few bills in case I needed cash. I always stored it in my interior pocket, which zippered to make certain it stayed put if I needed to access a shoulder holstered gun.

I wore a shoulder holster, and the weight implied it held a loaded gun, although I hadn’t checked the weapon, making certain to keep it concealed.

Even in Texas, most refused to carry guns, as it invited trouble from those with strong talents. The RPS used them and carried them openly for the most part, as a hip holstered weapon took less time and effort to draw and fire. Nobody blinked twice about RPS agents being armed.

Everyone knew the royals preferred when their bodyguards wielded magicandmundane weaponry.

Maybe I’d been eager to become an RPS agent from an early age, but it’d taken me years to become truly comfortable with my firearm. Without a quiet place to check the weapon thoroughly, I needed to assume it was deadweight.

That left me with my talent, and in the city, I’d have little trouble defending myself. Everyone around me wouldn’t like it, but I’d be fine.

It was the little things in life.

Taking out the wallet, which was more along the lines of something His Royal Majesty of Montana might use, with slots for family pictures, space for a ridiculous number of credit cards, and slots for the registration cards for his favorite horses, I flipped it open to discover my RPS card, my license, some cash, and three prepaid credit cards with sticky notes featuring their pins in a suspiciously familiar handwriting.

Narrowing my eyes, I pulled out one of the cards, determining it had been issued in Texas.

Among the cash, which included more than I tended to carry, I discovered a note.

Her Royal Majesty of Texas welcomed me to her kingdom, hoped I would enjoy my stay, and if I would pleasenotinform my family, friends, associates, or other people of my whereabouts, she would appreciate it. Then, because she was evil incarnate, she’d left her personal number.

I already had it memorized, as my queen adored the Texan royal family and often had me reach out to the Texan RPS to find out when there might be a non-disruptive time to visit. Without fail, they directed me to their queen’s personal cell phone.

I could only presume Queen Jessica had decided to play games.

Further searching of my pockets revealed a new cell phone, a model the Texan queen preferred. Sighing, I tapped in the number, connected the call, and put the phone to my ear.

“Good morning, Terry!” Queen Jessica chirped. “How is my favorite Montana RPS agent turned New Yorker doing today?”

“Is it morning?” I asked, eyeing the Texan sky.

“For another few minutes. Please blame my husband. Hebeggedfor a chance to kidnap someone. Hebegged. Then he went to your former boss, discussed the issue, andbegged. There’s been so much begging. How could I refuse him a chance to toy with little Rachel?”

Little Rachel, as the queen called her, would go beyond ballistic when she found out. First, she’d lose her mind I’d been taken out from under her nose. Then she’d lose her mind again when she found out the Texan queen had issued an unconventional invitation. My queen would need to be tethered so she wouldn’t enter orbit from the joy of being included in some old fashioned Texan trickery. “If you wanted Her Royal Majesty to visit, all you had to do was call.”

“Before you indulge in unnecessary worry, I only toyed with your queen for a few minutes. She’s been notified, but I had to promise she would receive Pat’s cooking the instant I finished with you. I’m afraid you’ve been sold out, but you’re being sold out on my dime. For yams and chicken. Honestly, that part doesn’t surprise me. I’ve trained her well. She knows if she goes along without making a fuss, she’ll get fed. View it as an expenses paid vacation, one where you don’t have to work much for a while.”

Well, as my queen knew and approved, I could work with whatever insanity came my way. I regarded the suit I wore with a frown. “In an Armani?”

“I’m afraid your regular suit was damaged in the scuffle. You probably don’t remember that. If you do, the plan is already not going to plan.”

What was going on? I tested my shoulders, ankles, and wrists, and sure enough, during one of the stretches, I felt the telltale hint in my left shoulder I’d been doing something physical that hadn’t gone as well as I preferred. “I don’t remember a scuffle, Your Majesty. My shoulder seems to agree with your claim, however.”

“You’re fine. The Texan RPS wanted to try a new tactic, and it would only work if we got the jump on a trained agent. As you’re one of the best solo agents and can often be found wandering by yourself on the outskirts of the palace grounds in New York, you were the perfect target. Alfred is having a delightful time whipping the New York RPS into shape as a result. He received notice after given an hour or two to properly come to terms with someone having successfully kidnapped an RPS agent from palace grounds.”

I released a relieved breath. If Alfred was on the job, my queen would be well protected. “All right. I can work with this. May I inquire details on what happened during the scuffle along with why I don’t remember it?”

“Little Daphne is learning some new tricks, and her little scamp of a cousin is helping her. You got a double dose of their talent, followed up with an exam with Their Royal Highnesses of Maine. They’re planning their coronation soon, as Melody’s parents are ready to retire and enjoy some quiet years. His Royal Highness is finally ready. He was not ready to help ambush you, but he is determined to get some RPS training, so he joined the party.”

“It disturbs me that I had determined the Montana Royal Family could pull this off,” I muttered. “I wasn’t sure if theywould, but I had considered them as suspects.”

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