Page 27 of Contested Crown

The touch felt electric, different somehow after what we had done.

Cade had wanted me to touch him; he had wantedme, even when it wasn’t for a front, even when it wasn’t for pretend. I couldn’t get his expression out of my head, the way he had given himself over to me, the way he had admitted that he was as loyal to me as I was to him.

It had made me feel impossible, as though I might finally get the pack I had wanted for so long. Pushing the thought aside, I forced myself into the present, observing what had become of Krista’s place since I’d last visited.

Krista’s apartment was entirely functional. The front room was decorated with the tools of her trade—credit card readers, printers of different sorts, embossers. She looked us over.

“Well, you look like you’ve been on the run from Declan for a couple of months. Why the hell aren’t you in Canada or Mexico?” She raised one of her eyebrows, two silver rings decorating it.

Her warm, dark skin was smooth, entirely unblemished except for the piercings on her eyebrows, nose, and lower lip. When she smiled, it was a wicked promise of mischief.

“Or is Prince Bartlett here the reason you’re sticking around?” She jerked her thumb at Cade, and we both froze.

My heart kicked into high gear, every muscle tensed and ready.

Krista laughed, nearly doubling over. She sauntered to her couch and threw herself down, still laughing so hard that she had to rest her forearms on her knees. As it tapered off, she leaned forward and picked up her bong and a lighter, flicking it on and taking a long hit before leaning back.

“Want some?” She gestured between me and the bong. The glass was colored, rainbow patterns tracing up the long neck.

“I’m good,” I said.

“I mean, you’re walking around with one of the most known faces in the mage community. He’s super rich. And also, according to the news, in isolation for an undisclosed illness.” Krista’s eyes traced up and down Cade. “You look pretty good to me for someone who’s supposedly dying.”

“Krista—” I waited for her focus to be on me, but she shook her head, leaning forward to take another hit.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to be walking around, buy some hair dye or go classic Clark Kent and get him some glasses.” Krista looked around. “I might evenhavesome glasses from a Superman costume…”

Before her attention could wander again, I said, “We need IDs and phones. Credit cards too, if you have any.”

“I figured.” Krista took another hit. “Jesus, you’re finally going after Declan? It’s about time. I thought maybe hedidkill you.”

I made a noncommittal noise.

“I should have known you’d only visit when you finally thought of a use for me.” Krista tapped her lighter on the table. “Just as long as you remember when you’re sitting in Declan’s chair, I was the one who wasusefulwhen you needed her.”

“I always remember my friends,” I said.

Krista snorted. “Friends. Sure. Miles, you don’t have friends. Anyone who’s tried to get close to you has found that out the hard way.”

I waited, but she kept tapping her lighter on the table, staring off into the distance. Finally, I said, “IDs?”

“Yeah. Listen, I wasn’t joking about the hair. Before I do the IDs, he needs to look like something other than the prodigal heir because the best ID in the world can’t change what people see with their own eyes.” Krista stood, moving fluidly across the room. She plucked a pair of thick-rimmed glasses off a shelf and tossed them at Cade. “I knew I had some here. No hair dye, sorry. Maybe run down to the store or something. You can do it in the bathroom.”

Turning, I tried to see Cade through her eyes. Every part of his face was familiar to me. He was no longer Prince Bartlett; he was Cade. But I’d recognized him on sight too, and his blond hair, nearly white, was distinct enough that Krista wasn’t wrong.

Cade seemed to follow my line of thought. He said, “No need.”

Raising a hand, he dragged it through his hair, the color changing to a pale chestnut as his fingers brushed each strand. By the time he finished, I’d crossed to him, holding his elbows and keeping him steady. Basil had warned me, back when Cade had too much magic, that he’d used too much of it too quickly. What was the cost of using too much too quickly when you didn’t have enough in the first place?

Krista blinked. “Okay. That’s a lot more efficient. Let me get pictures of you, and I’ll get started on the IDs. Just driver’s licenses or passports too? Like I said, if Declan was after me, you’d find me on the beaches of South America, not walking up to his front door.”

“Whatever you can give us,” I said.

“Come on,” Krista said. She led us through the small kitchenette to a bedroom that had been converted into a photography studio. Pointing, she positioned me in place and took a couple of snapshots, squinting at her computer before directing me to look more annoyed.

“When did you get so relaxed, Miles? Where’s the bitchface you’re always wearing?”

I glared at her, and Krista grinned.