Plenty of that.
He stood, stumbling as his head reeled and his stomach heaved. Catching himself on the wall, Cade pushed forward, determined to grab one of the logs that had once sat in the grate and were now spilled over the rug.
It singed his hand, eating his flesh with the jagged teeth that characterized phoenix fire as he picked it up, juggling it in both hands. He blocked it out: the pain, the fear.
Weakness knocked his knees out from under him. Gritting his teeth, Cade crawled over to Alana. He thrust the burning log out, hovering the flame over the ash until it caught. He immediately dropped the wood, drawing his injured hands into his chest like birds home to roost.
While ash burned, the skin began to knit together, an invisible needle and thread sewing up the edges. The ash burned pure white, disappearing as the injury sealed.
Relief pounded upon Cade like footsteps on concrete. His chest constricted as more coughs tore through him. Vision blurred, Cade blinked twice, then a third time. After the fourth, Alana’s eyes had fluttered open.
“Cade?” she mumbled, confusion riddling her forehead. “What’s…?”
“You’re alive,” he stated, hoarse with smoke and fierce joy. “Alive.”
“You doubted it?” Her eyes shimmered with worry when he bent over, pain doubling to a fist-sized ball that stuck in his windpipe. She surged upward, a picture of health resurrected from ash. “Cade, you need to get out.”
He didn’t waste time arguing, not now that she was wonderfully, beautifully alive.
She managed to get him standing, throwing one of his arms around her shoulders and grabbing him around the waist.
As they took a step, a figure sprinted through the smoke, screaming in wild distress.
“Father!” Gable’s lips twisted as he swung his body around to face them. “You.”
Alana tensed. “This whole place is going to shatter, Gable. We need to go.”
He ignored her, crumpling to his knees beside the charred body of the former high ruler. His hands smoothed the burned flesh, seemingly without thought to the gore. He reached his father’s hand and removed the titanium ring with a sob. The pain must have been akin to branding, but the only sign was an exaggerated tremble as Gable slid the burning metal onto his third finger. Cade didn’t know how he’d escaped from Garrett. Frankly couldn’t muster up the energy to care, as he leaned heavily on Alana.
She began to weave them, dodging fire, dragging him when he felt as though his knees would cave in. The roar of the fire was deafening, an opera of noise and rising song.
As they drew level with Gable, his focus shifted to them. Vengeance burned as a living spirit, hotter than the flames that kissed his skin. “One day.” A threat.
He placed a hand on his father’s chest. Both were gone in a shimmer of energy.
Alana stiffened, head swinging around in shock. He’d forgotten she hadn’t witnessed the twin’s power. Though what Garrett’s was was anyone’s guess.
He began to cough again, deep whooping ones from the pit of his stomach. Alana’s hand tightened on his waist. “We need to go.”
Two blurs rushed through the flames before she could take another step.
Faer paused by Alana, eyes returned to the usual brown and blue. They swept over the rips in Alana’s shirt to the flawless skin beneath. Then settled on Cade. “How bad?”
“He needs air.”
Trick didn’t waste time with a pithy comment. He slung an arm around Cade, hauling him across the floor like this morning’s papers.
“Still don’t like you,” Cade mumbled, every word dragged across metal spikes that jabbed his throat.
“Same.”
They’d barely passed through the doors when a further explosion of glass detonated. Cade’s throat rasped. “It’ll spread.” He sounded like a toad.
Alana nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Trick walked him to the opposite wall, bracing Cade there as he let go. His hands hovered, like he expected Cade would do the humiliating thing and plummet to the floor.
Cade wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, though it was a close thing as nausea surged up his throat. His hands pressed against the wall for balance. Eyes narrowed against the light, he watched through slits as Alana returned to the flames. A lone figure silhouetted against an inferno.
Her hands held out; she began to suck the fire into herself.
Cade shifted up the wall, a struggle to even do that when cartoon birdies chirped at him, circling his head. If she took too much, she’d be knocked unconscious, and he didn’t know if he could handle that. He hadn’t fully processed killing her; he hoped when he did, he wouldn’t do something as embarrassing as cry. At least, not in front of the vampire. His animal rumbled in agreement.
The fire gradually died, extinguishing with great plumes of smoke that billowed out to tease Cade’s throat. He choked, cursing when he had to bend over and hack smoke out.
Faer and Vander were there when Alana swayed, catching her against them and carting her backward. The guards and Garrett had both disappeared, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Sapphy was conspicuously missing.
Cade roused himself at that, gasping out the question.
Vander’s forehead lined. “Sapphy?” he snapped, hand drifting to his sword belt. A gash across his forehead trickled blood. “Sapphy.”
“I’m here,” her voice called from around the corner. She emerged, limping a little, struggling against Garrett’s escort. He arched an amused eyebrow as Vander strode over and slipped Sapphy’s arm over his own neck, shoving Garrett out of the way.
“You’re welcome,” was the prince’s comment.
Cade’s stare was wary as he straightened from his slump against the wall. Lightning strikes of pain snapped from his burned hands as he braced himself, but he concealed it behind layers of cool.
Garrett was looking from face to face, seemingly studying each Hood’s individual features in a manner akin to examining lab rats under a ’scope.
When Garrett’s cool blue eyes met Cade’s, they stuck. The jackal arched in warning, a soft growl purring through the walls of Cade’s chest.
Garrett’s lips curved. I dare you was what Cade read.
He took a step.
“Weapons down, jackal,” Trick ordered from his position at Cade’s side. His voice snapped with authority, eyes fixed on the prince. “Let’s not start a war.”
Garrett’s gaze moved to Trick. “Funny.”
“What are you about?” Alana pushed at the hands that held her back, throwing her chin up at the human. The echoes of his panic at her death swirled away on waves of pride.
“About?”
“Why are you here?” Alana gestured. “You could be rounding up guards, leading a fight against us. Instead you’re here.”
“Actually, I’m waiting.”
Sapphy spoke. “For what?”
“For the moment you realize you need my help.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Hoods scoffed at the statement, puffs of air and scorn snorted out.
Cade’s eyes remained level on Garrett. “Your help?”
Garrett’s hand smoothed over the sword sheathed at his side. “My family has been shattered, my twin gone. And my father is dead.” Only jackal hearing caught the faint hesitation of grief clouding the last word. “Gable is intelligent and ruthless when pushed. He adored my father. He won’t allow you to waltz out of the palace.”
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Vander’s chin kicked up.
“My brother isn’t thinking clearly. When the grief lessens, it won’t take long for that brain of his to slide into gear. Despite my father’s…less than public hobbies, he was high ruler.” Garrett looked at each of them. “Gable will go through the proper legal channels to punish you.”
“Three stars for the jackal shifter.” Garrett’s shoulder lifted. “Of course, when the Legion shows up to arrest you all, I could explain there was a misunderstanding.” His eyes glinted as he spoke of the Treaty’s official policing force.
“What kind of ‘misunderstanding’?” Sapphy wanted to know.
“That my father was volatile, due to injecting himself with an unknown substance. He attacked Gable and pushed my brother into killing him in self-defense. Gable, blind with grief and hatred for his actions, is wallowing in that shallow stage of grief: denial. He needs someone to blame and who better than a well-known rebel group?”
“Got it all figured out.” Faer’s eyes glinted ice-blue as he raked the human prince with disdain. “Fuckin’ pretty as a picture.”
“What about when he accuses me?” Alana’s color was better, the transparency of her skin returning to the cream that High Lands’ light had nurtured as a child. Still she was far from sparking any fires and looked like one poke could knock her down.
Cade inched closer to her.
Garrett cocked his head as he considered Alana’s question. His fingers continued to play over his sword’s hilt. “His mind has shattered under what he’s done. You arrived at the palace this afternoon, out of the blue and carrying the suspicion over your parents’ deaths. One can only assume his mind has thrown you into the mold of villain because of that connection.”
It hung together, barely, and it largely depended on Gable’s state of mind when he approached the Treaty, and Garrett himself. Cade’s word would go a certain distance—a Blade’s word was influential—and Alana’s voice would pack a punch, but having Edward’s son on their side would trump both.
And, despite Garrett’s ignorance of Cade’s Blade status, he knew they needed his voice to walk free.
Bastard.
“What do you want?” Trick’s face was a mask, a well-sculpted statue that an artist would title Concealment. Whatever the vampire was thinking churned far beneath the surface.
“A favor.” Garrett slid satisfied eyes to Alana. “Having a queen owe me will be worth the trouble of standing against Gable.”
“Fuck no,” Faer retorted. His injured horn glinted in the humming electric lights as his head whipped from side to side. “She won’t be indebted to fuckers like you.”
“True that.” Vander’s sword being unsheathed was a sweet song of power.
Sapphy’s hair whipped in a sudden breeze, her hands outstretched as, very casually, Trick licked one fang.
Garrett didn’t even glance their way, eyes intent on Alana.
Cade ached to refuse for her, but after everything they’d been through, he knew better than anyone that she could make her own decisions.
“A favor.” Her tone was reluctant, but rang as clear as the walls that allowed the night in through the crystal honeycomb structure. “Only if you succeed in making the Treaty dance to your tune.”
“Oh, trust me. They’ll wear my thumbprint on their heads before the week is through.” Garrett offered a hand, ignoring Faer’s warning rumble. “I trust your word is good?”
Insult flashed in Alana’s eyes like a sword in the dark. Her gang made noises of protest as she walked forward to clasp the prince’s hand. “I’m not the one whose trust is suspect.”
Garrett’s smile was quicksilver before he released Alana. “We’ll rub along well, Princess, when your gang leave.”
Vander chuckled. “Ha. Good one.”
Garrett’s eyebrows rose as he set a measuring gaze upon them. “If we are to convince the Treaty of our story, we need to be proactive. That means you run along and hide like the gutter rats you are, back to the Maze.”
Sapphy slammed a hand down on Vander’s shoulder as he started forward, her own eyes seething.
“You want me to stay behind?” Alana’s voice was neutral, eyes shuttered. By her sides, her hands twitched.
“Present a united front. The Treaty aren’t going to want to go against the possible next high ruler of the Southlands and the soon-to-be-crowned queen of the High Lands.” Garrett rocked back on his heels. “But your hangers-on need to go before they blow your cover.”
His jackal was scrabbling at his skin at the idea of leaving Alana unprotected. Cade shook his head as though through thick sludge. “No. Way.”
“Yeah, fuck that.” Faer slammed a fist into his open palm. “Where Ana stays, we stay.”
“Then have fun dangling at the end of a rope.”
Alana was very quiet, gaze flitting from one Hood to the other. When they touched Cade’s face, warmed, Cade’s stomach wrenched violently.
His jackal snarled. “You’re going to stay.”
“I have to.” Alana shook her head with impatient irritation as clamors rebounded off walls of crystal. “No, listen. It’s the best, cleanest way to resolve this. Hey, I don’t trust the seed of darkness any more than you.”
Garrett’s eyebrow inched up his forehead at this.
“I can look after myself. The Maze needs you.”
“She’s right.”
Sapphy, Vander and Faer all gaped at Trick, who spoke with calm assuredness.
Sapphy was the one to speak. “Trick, what gives?”
“It’s for the best. A clean break.” Trick’s eyes flickered with pain that was fleeter than a fae full-out sprinting. “Ana’s right; we’re needed elsewhere. We can trust her to do her job.”
He held up a hand at hot protests. “Enough.”
“Since when did you become my Sire?” Vander gritted out, naming a vampire who Made a human. It was insulting on many levels, least of which indicating Trick had no respect for Vander.
Trick’s eyes glittered boiling gold.
Alana interrupted. “Shut the hell up, all of you. Gable could be informing the Treaty as we speak. We need to take action instead of sniping at each other. Garrett,” she said without taking her eyes from her gang. “Contact them.”
Deep inside Cade, a jackal’s mournful howl ricocheted off every nerve.
It was the end.
An hour later, under the mocking eyes of an enigmatic prince in the bulbous head of the hall, Ana found herself facing her gang. Her heart ripped clean down the center. If Cade held one half, then undoubtedly these four held the other. She licked her lips, forcing away the tears that rose. She was being ridiculous. She’d see them soon—they were all coming up to Castle Ignis, her home in the High Lands, whether they liked it or not.
She hugged Sapphy, punching Vander on the arm and telling him to watch the pranks or she’d order his head cut off.
Faer was treated to a hug too, his breath whistling through her hair as she held on. His hands were clumsy, eyes shimmering blue as he glared at Garrett with such ferocity the prince dropped his snide gaze.
“You take care of yerself, y’hear?” he ordered her gruffly. He shuffled his feet, a fierce demon brought low. “You teach them phoenixes a fuckin’ trick or two.”
Ana laughed, misty, hating the weakness. She patted his arm. “I will. Get that horn seen to before you end up a eunuch.” She had to laugh as his mouth rounded in appalled shock.
She almost crumpled into a sobbing mess when she turned to Trick. Her best friend, her brother in spirit and partner in crime—literally. She swallowed over the lump. “You think you can manage without me?” The corner of her mouth curled upward.
He was solemn, eyes molten with suppressed emotion. Hands twitched at his sides. “Make us proud.”
She knew he meant that she was to rule with every scrap of compassion and loyalty she’d learned living on the streets. She wished she had time to say goodbye to Gabriel and Adelaide, Rafe, and all the other kids. But she and Garrett needed to strike while the missing prince was lost to grief, and once that busi
ness was concluded, Ana would be supervised by Treaty, media and anybody who had any interest in the sudden reemergence of royalty.
But there could be visits.
Escorted visits.
With a choked sob, Ana wrapped her arms around Trick, despite his instant stiffening. She was sure he could feel the tears soak into his battle clothing, but he kept silent, hands rising to smooth down her back. She stayed like that for what felt like hours, not sure she could let go.
When she did, she felt the separation like another sword wound. “I’ll see you soon.”
Blindly, she turned toward Cade. He caught her hand, pulling her away from the others.
He led them to the farthest corner, where the light was dimmest. The stars played peekaboo with cloud far above them, seen through the clear crystal walls.
With a tender hand, Cade combed her hair away from her face. “You all set to be the greatest royal the House of Farrah has ever seen?” he teased, attempting to lighten the tension, though his face was white as bone. Pained lines creased his eyes and mouth even as he attempted to joke. The burns on his hands had been vicious when she’d wrapped them, lurid splashes of scarlet and white. The stubborn jackal hadn’t wanted to take anything to knock him out.
Such loving, level eyes. She grabbed at his bandaged hand. “Come with me.”
He blinked, muscles tensing as her words hung between them. “What?” he managed.
Fuck being scared. Ana clenched her hands on his shirt. “When I go, come with me.”
His breath whooshed out like she’d punched him. “Alana… I can’t.”
Seconds passed as she recovered from the blow. “Why?” He loved her; he’d said he loved her.
“I’m not exactly consort material.” A bitter laugh escaped him as he released one hand to comb through his disheveled hair. “I’m a Blade, a merc. A killer. Hell, I killed you.”
Ana’s hands tightened on his shirt until her claws almost ripped the material. “To save me. I know how hard that must have been. To do that… You’re worth ten times any man I have ever known.”
“No.” His hands rested atop hers. “I’m a failure. I’d fail you, and you need to be seen as strong when you take the throne.”
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