The Legend of the Eight: The Wanted (Book 6)

Prologue: The Tragedy of King Leo

PROLOGUE: THE TRAGEDY OF KING LEO

A CRUMPLED PIECE OF PAPER blew against the side of the hallway, fallen from the bulletin board where it once hung. Walking through that hall, the young King bent down and picked it up, smoothing it in his palms. As he uncrumpled the paper, his eyes were drawn to the four words printed in bold across the top.

Wanted: Dead or Alive

The flyer was for one Damon Donovan, last seen fleeing the maternity wing at King Matthew's Memorial Hospital with Princess Wilmarie Diamond. They hadn't been seen since.

The King sighed when he saw his sister's name printed alongside Damon's. They'd been branded the new Bonnie & Clyde as though their actions were comparable to those of the crime duo. In their time away, King Leo hadn't received a visit, a call, or even a carefully-coded letter. He knew enough to know that wherever his sister was, she was safe. She was with Damon and the two were far too smart to get themselves caught.

Leo stuffed the flyer in his pocket and continued down the hall, stopping only when he reached his office door. It was open—just an inch—and the light inside was on. Had this not already happened several times before, he would've been alarmed, maybe even enough to call for security. He was the King of the Realm, after all. He had to take every precaution.

But that day was nothing new so he pushed the door open the rest of the way and then walked inside. Among stacks of papers—some flyers for missing people, other wanted posters like the one in the hall—was a desk and behind that desk sat a man.

He wasn't a large man. Though he was about Leo's height, his frame was remarkably smaller and frail, making him much weaker physically than any of his adversaries. But he was never at a disadvantage because of it. In fact, he was one of the most feared individuals in the Realm, despite his slim build and impaired sight. He wore a dark pair of goggles around his eyes and walked with a cane, leading others to believe he was a weak man when that was certainly not the case.

King Leo had come to see much of this man since his reign began years ago. He seemed to always either be in the palace or on his way to it. He was a cruel man. His kindest moments were more wicked than any other person's worst and he never hesitated to prove that. He said order came from fear—which he instilled in every citizen in the World of Magic.

...Those that remained, anyway.

"Atticus," the King said, keeping an eye on the man. "Can I help you?"

Atticus Wayne was the last person anyone wanted to anger. Known more commonly as the Doctor, he had become the most powerful man in the Realm and his word was as good as gospel. He flipped through the flyers on the desk—they were sorted into two piles to differentiate between closed and open cases—and Leo wondered if he even knew what he was touching. It's not like he could read them. Unless he could and the blindness was all an act.

"You've been a busy boy, Your Majesty," Atticus said of the pile. "All of these missing persons accounted for and yet you still haven't brought me what I asked."

Leo's jaw tightened as he replied, "I told you everything I know. Believe me, I want her home just as badly as you do but my sister never told me where she was going. She just vanished."

"With the scholar, yes. So you've said," the Doctor replied. He flipped through the pile again, flashing names like Shelby Parker, Montgomery West, and Georgia Mae as he did. Then he stopped and though Leo couldn't see his eyes to confirm it, he knew they were set into a glare. "Seeing as we can't exactly ask the other Diamond twin for information—" he started to say and Leo had half the mind to slap him for saying such a thing. "—I've decided to get more creative." He leaned forward and felt around the desk until he found the intercom button. "Bring him in."

Moments later, the door behind Leo opened again and in came two men, each dragging one arm of a weak, broken man with them.

The man's dark hair had turned gray and was overgrown to his chin. He hadn't had a decent haircut in years. It was matted down with sweat and grease like he hadn't showered in some time. His arms were long and gangly and his clothes hung off his body like they were three sizes too large. But Leo recognized that shirt—a light blue pinstripe, one of his favorites. It used to fit him.

Leo tried not to react when the men brought the broken man into the office. Reacting would show weakness and the Doctor would not hesitate to exploit that. The Doctor's soldiers dropped the man and he fell to his knees with his hands chained at his waist. His head hung as if it was weighted to the ground and his hair covered his face like a curtain. When he picked it up, his olives eyes found Leo's. Bloodshot, sporting heavy, dark circles. He was barely recognizable.

"Son," he croaked in the weakest of voices. "Don't tell him a thing."

Leo tightened his jaw. "What's the point of this?" he asked the Doctor who smiled behind those large goggles. "I've told you everything I know. Torturing my father won't make me tell you something I don't know."

"But it will encourage you to find out." He turned to the man on Walter's right and gave him a nod, like he knew exactly what he was looking at.

The man took his hand and placed it on the back of Walter's neck, yanking his head up. Walter let out a pained grunt—too weak to say anything else—and Leo took a protective step towards his father but stopped before taking another. What could he do? He'd never take all of them on by himself.

"That's enough," the Doctor told the men before looking back at Leo. "I think he gets the point. You can take him back to his cell now."

The men dragged Walter away, his weak, mangled body skating weightlessly against the marble floor. The door slammed shut once they were gone and the Doctor wore a devious smirk, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.

"Allow me to remind you that your father also refused to cooperate and—" He chuckled lightly. "Well, I think that speaks for itself, don't you? Your baby sister isn't in any condition to answer me anymore so that leaves you."

Suddenly, the Doctor's demeanor shifted dramatically. He pushed himself to stand and used his cane to navigate around the desk until he was standing just inches away from Leo. His scent lingered—something acidic and powerful—and he turned his head as if trying to find Leo's face. Finally, he settled on a neutral position that put him at Leo's left ear and cleared his throat.

"Now," he said and his voice cut the air like knives. "You're going to tell me where I can find the Eight."