“We wouldn’t do that to you,” Kyle said.
“Then why worry about who I was or was not bringing?”
“There’s a bet,” Jamie said after a brief pause.
Liam sighed. “There’s always a bet. What is it this time?”
“Alexei started one about the agent you worked with back on Fortuna-sur-mer last December. He lost.” Jamie took a sip of whiskey, eyes narrowed in thought. “Actually, I think everyone lost that bet.”
Kyle elbowed him in the side. “Except you. You didn’t bet for the first time in ages, and everyone accused you of using insider information.”
Jamie glanced at Liam and shrugged. “I vaguely remember Oliver, if it’s the same man I’m thinking of. No one was going to win Alexei’s bet.”
“Like I said. Insider information.”
Liam took a sip of whiskey so he wouldn’t immediately be obligated to speak, internally wincing at Jamie’s penchant for remembering details. Jamie had been well-known amongst Liam’s circle of friends when they were younger, and Oliver Archer—heir to an earldom in title only and currently an agent for the British Secret Intelligence Service—had once been part of that exclusive social club.
Then there had been a party, too much alcohol, and Liam finding a pull for a bit of fun and a stupid teenage bet. Oliver had been the unfortunate target that night, because Liam had known Oliver had fancied him back then, and that had made it easier. The morning after hadn’t been pretty, mostly because Liam had been a right prick when he was younger. Agreeing to the bet with Rupert Marsh on how many people they could sleep with during their last year of school, with virgins worth more on their personal ranking system, hadn’t been one of Liam’s better decisions.
Back then, the consequences of his actions had never really mattered to Liam. Then the Special Air Service had knocked him down a peg or two, unwilling to coddle anyone, even a member of the royal family. The grit of active duty had cleaned him up even more, and nearly dying by Splice had given him much-needed clarity, but by then, it was too late for Liam’s apology to mean anything. Whatever friendship he and Oliver could have once had was buried beneath the cold veneer of politeness exchanged between the upper class when forced to mingle in the same room together.
Friendship, feigned or otherwise, was exhausting in that context.
Recently, the brass heading up the UMG had tried to remove Liam from leading the Royal Legion, the team he’d commanded since getting turned into a metahuman, and he’d fought them every way he could. The Royal Legion was still his to command, but it felt as if it were in name only these days.
Royal Naval Captain Samaira Bhasin had led the team in the field more than Liam over the past twelve months. He trusted his co-captain immensely, but Liam didn’t like being forced to give up his duty to Crown and country. He didn’t like giving up histeam. The restrictions placed on Liam due to his status as a member of the royal family chafed, and he’d done his best to escape them.
When the opportunity arose to provide backup for a civilian team of agents, he’d jumped at the chance. They hadn’t been on Fortuna-sur-mer for long when he, along with Oliver, had unexpectedly crossed paths with Alexei and Sean Dvorkin before briefly teaming up with the pair to try to catch Carter Bennett. The former CIA deputy director had escaped, but it had been the start of Liam working with the Secret Intelligence Service and dealing with a liaison who had ties to his past.
It was better than nothing, but he had a feeling that, too, would change soon enough.
“Oliver and I aren’t friends. We haven’t been for years. Jamie is right. That bet of yours was never going to have a winner,” Liam said after a moment.
Kyle shrugged. “Not the first time the money pot went unclaimed. We’ll make a new bet.”
“Wonderful.”
Kyle smirked against the rim of his whiskey glass. “Can’t let the money just sit there.”
“So long as it’s not at my expense.”
“No promises.” Kyle shrugged out from beneath Jamie’s arm. “You guys catch up. I’m going to finish making lunch.”
Liam perked up at the mention of food. “Brilliant. What are we having?”
“Steak, because it makes Jamie happy and less likely to strangle members of his family.”
Kyle walked backward for a couple of seconds so Liam could clearly see him mouthRichard.
Liam knew what it was like to have a parent holding a high public office and the family pitfalls that came with blood relations. In that respect, he and Jamie were very much the same. If anyone knew what Jamie was going through—being bound by public perception that never saw the real person behind the smile—it was Liam.
His parents’ jobs as working royals consisted of constant appearances promoting charities and sometimes representing the Crown overseas. The spotlight always burned bright on the royal family, even if public approval dipped and rose over the centuries, though the harshest critics always came for those who sat upon the throne. To some extent, the expectations Liam had to live up to weren’t difficult to achieve. It was nothing like what Jamie had experienced with the grinding presidential campaign Richard had put him through for almost two years before winning the presidency.
That still didn’t mean it was easy.
Liam gestured toward the living room that overlooked the Potomac River. “Come along. Catch me up with the latest on your team.”
Jamie snorted. “We’re no longer Alpha Team.”
