Cade slid his sword into its sheath, inwardly counting to ten. “For the last time, you can have your dagger but no bow. Not until I know an arrow isn’t going to end up in my back.”
“You don’t care if I stab you?”
“I’ve been stabbed in the back plenty. It doesn’t faze me.”
He sighed when she shrieked in annoyance, the sound recalling memories of her frustrating thirteenth year. The year Castle Ignis developed new appreciation for soundproofing.
He shook his head. She’d finally informed him, after an hour of what he could only term nagging, that her main evidence was in some hotel out in the northern sector of the Maze. Hidden, naturally. The nagging had been expected; Alana had never been one to accept a bargain at face value. He was fairly certain, though, that now she knew he’d never betray Edward’s secret without serious proof.
She hadn’t taken it well.
“Oh, you’re impossible.” Her eyes thinned to slits. “If we’re partners, a little trust would be nice.”
A snort escaped him as he checked the jagged edge of his backup dagger. The teeth bit into his thumb. “Trust you? Like you do me?”
She made a face at him, one he recollected as being Alana for I-know-you’re-right-but-I-don’t-want-to-admit-it. He watched, under the guise of sliding his dagger away, as her teeth worried her bottom lip. Her breasts rose and fell underneath the thin material of her tank.
A soundless growl vibrated in his throat.
Alana’s hands settled at her hips, fingers wriggling in restless motions. “Fires above, I’m dying to get out.”
“When you sleep in that hovel?” Cade grunted, aware he was baiting her and gaining vicious enjoyment from it. He’d be relieved to be out of the small, enclosed space himself. His animal enjoyed the open, one reason why he’d settled on the Heartlands for his base. The midlands of the Kingdom were famous for their lush country and open spaces.
“That hovel is my home.” She bared her teeth at him, an oddly arousing sight. Her fingers flicked in edgy movements, as if flames should be darting from them. “And a damn sight better than this dump.”
“We’ll agree to disagree.”
She snorted air out, sounding like an agitated seahorse. “Remind me when you learned to speak like one of them?”
“One of you, you mean.” He shot her a frown. “You’re still a princess, Alana.”
“Who says?” Her eyes flickered with indefinable emotion. “Who says what I am? Maybe I was always meant to end up here.”
I am not going to lose my temper.
“Meant to end up starving to skinny-chic? Running with criminals, killing for a living?” He shook his head in disbelief. He directed his attention to double-checking his dagger was strapped in tight at his ankle.
“You’re such a dick.”
Cade sighed, then raised his head. Her lips were pursed in a mutinous line. Twin red spots colored her cheeks.
Not a harmonious beginning.
Fuck it.
“You’re right. Sorry.”
She blinked, taken aback. Her eyebrows knitted, suspicion lightening the amber to wary gold. “Why?”
“You’re asking me why I’m sorry.” He snorted out a laugh, bracing his arm on his knee as he tugged on his dagger strap. Secure. “You’re deranged.”
Leaving her to wonder at that, he straightened and crossed through to the outer room. He wrinkled his nose at the stink of mildew. He should be used to it, considering how many mildewed rooms he’d been in. The Treaty didn’t exactly pay for premium accommodation, and though he made what most would consider a packet, the bulk of it was directed into various underground charities throughout the Kingdom. However, he’d stayed in worse places when he’d been one of his father’s pack. A frown touched his forehead at the memory.
His brother’s trusting eyes glazing over…
Alana followed him, a welcome distraction, arms folded beneath her bust. The pose unintentionally fluffed up her small breasts, creating a mouthwatering viewing of soft, pale flesh.
Reminding himself of why he was there, Cade hauled his backpack to him and unzipped the front. Drawing out her dagger, he tossed it at her.
She caught it without blinking, surprise crossing her face like a galloping mare. “You actually gave me it,” she said, slow and wondering. A vicious scowl. “Idiot! What kind of merc are you, giving your hostage a weapon? By the holy fires, are you actually a walking corpse?”
His lips quivered as he assumed a bland expression, listening as she continued her lecture.
When she’d run out of steam, he said mildly, “I have eyes in the back of my head. Shade, remember?”
“Eyes in the back of…” she muttered to herself, inspecting her blade. Her thumb polished a piece of the silver. “Fucking idiot.”
Unfamiliar emotions swirled inside Cade as he watched her shine off the blade with the bottom of her tank, exposing part of her navel and that twice-cursed charm. Her anger…it tasted like concern. How long had it been since anyone had cared about his safety?
A brutal lump lodged in his chest, one that made his blood slow and thicken like maple syrup. His jackal brushed against his skin, inhaling Alana’s scent.
Honey and blackberries. His mouth began to water for a forbidden taste.
Unaware, Alana held the dagger away from her and cocked her head. A blink later and it was alight. A mesmerized curve touched her lips as the fire danced in sinuous orange waves, the reflected shadows caressing her features.
When it flickered out three seconds later, her lips flattened. She aimed an accusing frown at him.
“What? What did I do?”
“I’m too cold,” she accused. “The fire can’t burn.”
“Looked like it was burning to me.”
“It won’t hold.” She shrugged. “We’ll have to make a stop.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Stuff your protests, Shade. I’m not roaming these streets for evidence when I’m laid out. That’s how people get killed.”
Cade rummaged through his backpack before closing his fingers around a small, thin box. He chucked it; she plucked it out of the air. “Use these.”
Shock colored her voice. “Where did you get these?” She cradled the matches like a baby.
“Picked them up off a trader the other week. Thought they’d come in handy.”
“But these are top grade. See, the end isn’t split, and the wood is…well, real.”
He supposed she had a right to be impressed; poorer families used plas-wood, which was made out of some laboratory-created material that burned half as well as the real thing. The trees had been wiped out in the Kingdom Wars, and the ones the Treaty had had planted were either reserved for people who had the money to pay, or still growing. Having lived in the Maze for the last decade, Ana had forgotten that she, by right, should have the real thing.
With reverence, Alana lifted the lid of the thumb-sized box and selected a few matches. Putting the box aside, she struck the first match. A blue-gold flame sprang to life, weaving around the small match head with teasing delight.
Cade watched as she closed her hand around the flame and absorbed the fire into her body.
Most people knew about phoenixes. They knew about the sharpened claws, the internal fire phoenixes could control, and the whole reincarnation deal—phoenixes could be resurrected, provided that the weapon remained within the body, though the last was as closely guarded a secret as how to kill Edward. A quirk of their genes, phoenix blood could clot around the weapon and hold the body and soul in a kind of stasis, allowing time to perform the proper procedure for resurrection. If this clotting didn’t occur because of any kind of removal of the weapon, the opportunity to hold a phoenix’s body and soul together disappeared. That was why Alana’s parents had truly died—their killer had planted the dagger next to the bodies. Similarly, a natural death like disease or old age could kill a phoenix as easily as a fae. Nature must have its balance.
What most didn’t know about phoenixes, strong phoenixes, like, say, royals, was that they could absorb fire from outward sources. Hell of a survival trick.
While Alana nurtured her flames, expression absorbed and intent, nibbling on her bottom lip, Cade forced himself to move before he and his jackal pounced. He removed his mask from the backpack, tying it around his face in brisk motions.
Drawn like a magnet, his gaze winged back to her.
An expression crossed her face as she absorbed each tiny flame, close to orgasmic. It made him harden, long to reach out and devour her like he had the day before.
He waited for her to run through half a dozen of the matches, calming when his jackal rubbed up against his skin, before holding his palm up. “That’s enough.”
Sulking, Alana poked out her bottom lip as she tossed the box. Already her color was better, her eyes brighter. Health flushed her, turning her from pale hostage to seductive queen.
Bite.
Cade stretched a tight smile over his lips as his jackal began to growl in quiet insistence. It was his job to keep her off-balance, to make her think he’d fallen under her spell. Dizziness whirled his head as he watched the plump curves of her breasts move under the thin fabric of her tank. “You look better.” A rough edge to his voice added smoke to the words.
“Hmm.” Suspicion beat from her like a living heart.
He knew she was suspicious of why he’d supposedly changed his mind. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure of anything. He did like Edward. Sure, the human could be overly passionate about saving his race sometimes, but to experiment on Others? That was down-to-the-core evil. To think Cade could have misjudged him that much…
Still, this kept him around Alana, let him learn her world, her secrets. Maybe if he was quick enough to juggle Alana’s suspicions, Liberty would be handed to him on a plate.
At least his sprouting suspicion about Alana being Liberty had been laid to rest. He’d caught the news as he’d traveled from the crystal palace to the Outer Boundary that afternoon that Liberty had marked another building. Proof positive—since Alana had been tied up at the time—that his wandering thoughts had been evidence of a ridiculous, sex-starved mind. He had to admit, when he’d overheard two gutter dwellers speaking of the attack, relief had washed over him in dizzying waves.
He wouldn’t have known what to do if it had proved to be Alana at the helm of the rebellion.
As for these experiments? Well, he knew what his orders would be should he find Alana was telling the truth. A severe and brutal example would be made of Edward by Treaty-sanctioned hands.
Which could result in the humans rising up, led by Edward’s twin sons.
Was it wrong of him to hope Alana had it wrong?
And fires help him if the suspicion nibbling at his mind like a parasite proved true…that there might be a connection between the missing kids he’d been sent to root out and the rumors about Other DNA experimentation.
“Answer me this,” he said, eyes jackal-sharp as she hooked her dagger into a sheath at her thigh. “If Edward wanted powers spliced with human DNA, why not simply arrange to interbreed?”
She snorted. “You hit your head or something? Like people want arranged matings to provide children for the ruler’s vision of the perfect human race. Edward couldn’t out himself as an obsessive loon. He’d lose his power, his position. Besides,” she added with a jerk of her shoulder. “He already tried.”
“What?”
“Married that nymph, didn’t he, about twenty years or so before he convinced my parents to arrange a match with me.” A sour twist of her lips. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the rumors about his sons’ powers.”
“Rumors,” Cade stressed.
She gave him a speaking look at that. “Well, anyway, even if he did want to explain his crazy plan to the whole territory for humans to ‘evolve’, breeding powers into genes takes a while, and it’s unpredictable. Who knows what kind of freaky things lie under the twins’ clothing.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Could have double-pronged penises for all we know.”
He ignored that. “That’s all guesswork. Have you any solid proof of his desire to splice powers? No.”
“Hey, you asked. I told.” Her words snapped like teeth, biting at him as she hummed with frustration. “Not my problem if you can’t see the truth if it waggles its butt in front of you.”
He sighed, jackal bounding to attention as the phoenix moved toward him. “Alana…”
“You’re going to have to leave the mask off.” She gestured at her own face, clearly skirting his frustrated tone. “Where we’re going, they won’t let you in if they can’t see you.”
His chest rumbled in denial. It wasn’t simply the human half that was wary. “No mask, no me. Nobody can know who Shade is. That I’ve even let you live…” He didn’t finish, didn’t feel like he had to.
“We won’t introduce you as him.” She smiled, exaggerated and false enough to make his animal snarl. “You can be Cade Lorin, someone I knew long ago who’s considering joining the cause.” She ground her teeth together as his nose wrinkled. “Honestly, Cade, they will not let you in. I give you my word that I won’t betray you.” She blinked and amended her statement. “On this outing.”
He found he wanted to laugh, but settled for a low growl. “So, you’ll betray my identity another time?”
Her lower lip was pulled between her teeth.
He wanted to nip it, then suckle the hurt.
“All right.” She took in a breath that did interesting things to her breasts. “I give you my word that I won’t betray your identity. Ever.” She winced. “Well, other than Trick. I already told him,” she defended herself as he freed another snarl. “He won’t say anything if I ask him not to.”
That she would trust this other man—a vampire—to that degree. Anger licked at him, even as he tried to push it away, knowing it was irrational. “Alana,” he rumbled in warning.
“Don’t you growl at me.” Her claws gleamed as she raised one hand in an insolent gesture. “We going?”
He let out a breath as he cocked his head and considered the street fighter before him. What it came down to was trust. Was he willing to let years of wet work and undercover surveillance possibly go down the crapper in order to discover the truth?
He nodded.
Not revealing if she was surprised, Alana swept past him before he could blink, making for the door. Pivoting, she gestured with her head. “Come on, then. Shake your tail.”
He cast her a sour look at the well-played shifter joke. Saying nothing, he untied the silk mask and replaced it, swinging the pack over his shoulder.
Alana headed for the exit, brought up short by Cade’s arm. Staring down at it, she commented, “You want to lose that?”
“A few ground rules,” he stated, iron beneath the blithe expression. “You don’t leave my side. We go to this place only. We come straight back. If you try to escape, I will hunt and kill your precious vampire.”
Alana hissed at him, thrusting his arm away. Fire sparked over her skin like a dozen roman candles. “You can try,” she retorted. “He’ll carve you up and drink the waste.”
Cade made a disgusted face. “How can you be friends with a thing that drinks blood?”
Alana swiped out with the blade, a warning cut that sliced Cade’s bicep. He snarled at her, canines baring. The jackal snapped at her from behind his eyes.
“Don’t push me, Alana,” he growled, the bite of jackal lashing out.
“Don’t push me, Shade.” She wiped her dagger on her pants leg. Flames shimmered in her fixed stare, her skin free of sparks as she wrenched the fire under control. “I’m no princess.”
“I’m starting to realize that.”
Alana’s hotel wasn’t what Cade had expected.
Cade and Alana waited in an open courtyard. Buildings in the old brick style merged with the newer concrete monstrosities and stood as sentries to the cobbled yard that bridged them.
Security to the courtyard had been tight; the metal sculpture riddled with false planks, gel-slicked steps, and hidden barbed wire he’d been expected to scale ranked up there with his fitness initiation into the Blades. All the while Alana, with her convenient foreknowledge, had worn the tiniest curl to her lips that screamed satisfaction every time the “ladder” dumped him on his ass. It should’ve made him furious.
It’d made him hungry.
After climbing the metal monstrosity, Alana had keyed them in past a coded titanium door into a seemingly empty room, then into the passage hidden beyond the ten-inch-thick brick wall. The passage had narrowed into a bottleneck before stopping at a high gate with a bolt lock a dummy could figure—but Cade suspected serious security had been secreted away to lull predators in before, as seemed Alana’s style now, chopping them off at the balls. Vid-links, scans, it could have been anything. Alana had slid the lock free and ushered him into the courtyard, where his surprise had rocketed past “wow” to “holy hell”.
While he was examining with interest, Alana raised a hand in greeting to the tall, slender woman who stood on the steps of the largest building. The woman’s face lit with pleasure on seeing the phoenix.
Wheat-blonde hair swung down the small of her back, unfettered, as the woman hastened over, long yellow skirt tangling around her legs. A well-loved beige poncho covered her top half, a bright scarf at her throat and several yellow bangles clinking at her wrists. Violet eyes switched between him and Alana, curiosity strong enough to taste as she reached them.
When her hands began to fly in studied patterns, Cade realized with a jolt that the bedraggled, colorful scarf encircling her throat was meant to hide scars.
His hand tightened on his pack as he examined the woman from head to toe. So. This was the original siren Alana had told him about that’d lured her to Liberty.
Alana let rip with a laugh he hadn’t heard in ten years, one that trickled over the rawer edges of his senses and soothed. His jackal settled. His hands relaxed.
Her lips were curved, eyes shining with genuine mirth. He wanted to touch, to nuzzle. Here was a hint of the girl he’d once loved.
She flattened her lips when the siren signed something else. Inclining her head toward him, Alana shifted her weight to her rear foot. “Adelaide, this is Cade.” She hesitated. Her throat bobbed. “An old contact.”
A silent growl threatened when she failed to acknowledge their past, but he choked it down. At least she hadn’t introduced him as Shade. “Pleasure.”
The silent beauty’s eyes locked to his.
A surge of sensual energy hit, a tidal wave of lust crashing into him. His body shuddered, small vibrations he couldn’t control, his jackal letting out a warning growl as he fought the pull.
Alana’s hands gripped his hips, voice a low murmur in his ear. “Shield, Cade. Where’s your damn shield?”
Every child, be they Other or human, was taught almost from birth how to build walls in their minds—defense against creatures that employed a form of mind control. Like a siren. She must be incredibly powerful to have such an effect. He’d assumed because she’d lost her voice, her impact would have dissipated. So he’d forgotten to shield.
Can you say jackass?
He bet Alana would.
Cade fought the pull, even as his cock hardened on a wave of carnal energy. He dragged his eyelids down. He focused on Alana’s claws pricking through cloth to his skin, the sweet pain of it.
The shield built, he opened his eyes to see Alana inches away. Several creases marred her forehead. It made him smile. “Thanks.”
“Tell me again how you’re such a badass.” Concern melted, antagonism clicking into place.
But he’d seen the concern, and with the patience and curiosity of his animal, he rolled it around, shelved it to think about later.
“You’re a distraction.” He tapped her on the nose before she could deflect. Truth. It made her blink, color racing across her cheekbones.
Concealing the turmoil, Cade glanced again at the siren, testing his shield. “Impressive.”
An apologetic squint. She turned toward Alana, moving her hands.
Alana twisted to him. “She says you’re an idiot.”
Adelaide cuffed Alana on the shoulder. The tiniest smile curved her lips.
With a start of surprise, Cade felt his mouth curve in answering amusement. Here stood a survivor of something no creature should suffer, and she’d hung on to her spirit. It moved him.
Yes, he could see how Alana could be inspired by this siren—though Liberty still had to convince him of her merits.
“Cade’s wanting to see everything.” Alana folded her arms underneath her breasts, tucking her fingers into her armpits. “Gabriel.”
Adelaide’s fine eyebrows twitched. She signed something else, to which Alana shook her head. “No. He needs to see.”
His jackal went hunting silent as Cade’s instincts sharpened to a keen edge. He’d expected anything when he entered the courtyard—a rescue after a couple of steps into the Maze, a double cross, a gruesome tour of one of the buildings Liberty’d ordered down. What he hadn’t expected were the kids.
Childish laughter and tantrums both lifted the air, snaking through it and enveloping him with carefree innocence. Playing equipment littered the courtyard: a swing, a slide, a jungle gym. The children were tumbling around on it, some in groups on the outskirts, some solitary. While the toddlers giggled, some fussing at the prospect of bedtime, young teenagers slunk around with sneers fused to their faces. Even with the studied brooding, it was clear they were well cared for.
He’d been shocked enough to see all of these healthy, happy children, when the norm for the Maze was to watch criminals in the making learn at their parents’ knees. If this wasn’t what Alana wanted him to see, he almost dreaded what came next.
He hung back as Adelaide turned a pleading expression to him, before she swiveled and walked across the play area. Many children, some human, some not, swarmed Adelaide, asking for affection. It was easily given: a hug, a kiss, hair ruffled.
“Come on,” Alana was saying as she began to follow. “Let’s get this over with.”
Ana led him to the throbbing epicenter of their rebellion, the steps she took toward the deceptive building like walking through treacle. Second thoughts battered her.
Made of reinforced concrete, it was an eyesore hiding one of the largest casualty centers in the Maze, a secret from all who had no reason to be admitted. Workers were restricted to three, all with at least some medical knowledge. Talented doctors who had trained in every species’ biology wouldn’t come to the Maze, not at the risk of the high ruler’s wrath. A single one dared, but his visits were limited to whenever he could slip away. For him, that came out as roughly once every three months.
She could only hope—everyone did—that when an emergency came, they would be able to get a message through.
“Seen enough yet?” She smiled with absent fondness as a sticky-faced toddler scampered away from her friend, shrieking with half glee and half terror.
Cade’s eyes swept the courtyard as they began to climb the steps where Adelaide waited. “It’s interesting.” His voice was neutral. “Not exactly hard evidence.”
“Adelaide isn’t proof?” She kept her voice low.
“Of cruelty, yeah. Of Edward’s involvement?” He shrugged. “I’m still holding out.”
She wondered if he always would. Too many people were fooled by Edward’s dual faces. Maybe, whatever she showed him, he’d always doubt the leader behind it. He’d always been the type to demand evidence. Never had faith, in others or himself.
But that was the past. She blocked the whispers before they could begin.
If Cade joined the cause, really joined the cause, so much the better. He’d been an excellent soldier when he was her bodyguard; he’d be lethal now he was a merc. But they didn’t want anybody here who didn’t need to be. If it came to it, she’d take the secret from him by force.
Sickness weaving with uncertainty burrowed straight into her heart. Fire flared, weak, but still a spiral of unparalleled flame that spat darts at her skin.
She shrugged both off, reminding herself that if he came after her, Liberty, she’d have no choice. That was the end of it.
Disciplining her emotions, Ana asked Adelaide, “How are they?”
Cade straightened. Ana tried to ignore the hum from being close to him. It hadn’t changed, not in ten years.
Healing, signed the damaged siren. Her eyes flickered to a deeper violet. Gabriel helps.
Ana’s heart hurt at that, her instincts wanting to claw and rip at the one responsible until heart blood poured—and then was set alight by phoenix fire. Flame, red and gold, swirled in her belly in lazy agreement.
If anything could stir Cade’s desire for justice, Gabriel would be it.
How is he today? she asked Adelaide, fingers moving in the familiar language, one she’d worked at since she met the siren. Any headaches?
He’s perfect. A stubborn answer from a woman who’d survived what she had. She gestured for them to follow her.
Adelaide led the way up the crumbling stone steps into the main foyer. What used to be a grand reception area was homey and welcoming, especially in the fading light. The real wooden floorboards had long been taken up for fuel, but had been replaced by walnut plas-wood. Plastered walls of sunny yellow soared upward several flights, before stopping at a domed ceiling painted as a summer’s day by Vander. As he had said, in one of his more serious moments, every child should play under the sun.
The foyer led the way into three larger areas, two made into one grander room, the wall between having disintegrated long before they’d moved in. A staircase, metal-made—no taking chances with kids’ safety—trailed up for four floors, each floor with three large rooms.
A vase of flowers sat at the right of the door. Bluebells, picked from the ’crats’ part of town, fragrant on a scarred table scavenged from the gutter.
Pride spiraled out when she walked into the Hotel, as the children had begun to call it—sadly, because the conditions here were far superior to those that they could expect out in the Maze. This, this was where the Hoods’ money went, where the majority of her own personal wages were diverted.
Because of that, the sound of real music floated down the hall, accompanied by childish laughter.
“A hotel?” Cade stepped onto the plas-wood, his boots making a whisper of sound.
Adelaide split her gaze between them. Does he not know?
He will.
Adelaide touched Ana’s arm. Who is he?
Avoiding that too-knowing gaze, Ana brushed past her and walked toward the doorway the music was pouring from.
“Welcome to the Hotel, Cade,” she muttered as he joined her, his jaw slackening at the inhabitants. The door creaked as it swung inward. “You can check in, but you can never check out.”