Page 5 of Contested Crown

“We can’t risk them using it to track us.” I didn’t look at him but put the paper on top of my bag, not wanting him to perseverate over it once we were gone. Nothing else in the room was specific enough for the mages to cast a spell on it.

“The bed,” Cade said. He had his arms crossed over his chest, but at least he had put on his shoes, the heavy black combat boots so different from the soft leather knee-high ones he had worn the first time I had met him.

I swore. “There’s enough of us on the sheets…”

“They’ll be able to track us,” Cade confirmed.

“Burn them.” Once I made the decision, it was easy. I began stripping the bed, but Cade put his hand on my wrist, stilling me.

“I might be able to fix it,” Cade said.

“Do you have time?” I glanced at the closed door.

“If House Morrison was going to take us out, they probably would have done it while you were gone,” Cade said reasonably. He nudged me backward, and I walked over to the window, barely moving the shades to try and get a view outside.

It was too dark—I couldn’t see anything more than the flickering lights from the outdoor hallway; everything beyond was black. I let the shades fall shut and turned back to our bags, making sure everything was secure, zipping them closed.

Cade stood over the bed, his breath catching once. He extended his hands, palms facing down.

Magic dripped from his fingers, dark drops that turned into tattooed lines as soon as they hit the bedsheets. It wasn’t a lot of magic; the tattoos were barely the size of my palm. But Cade’s breath came fast, and the tattoos spread, growing in fractal lines, thinner and thinner, until they reached across the entire bed, each line as narrow as a spiderweb.

The bed began to smoke, the smell of something burning making me sneeze. Cade’s heart raced in his chest, about to burst out. He was a racehorse at the derby, going faster than anything living was supposed to go.

Then, the lines collapsed in on themselves, shrinking back until they formed a dagger. Cade reached down and grabbed hold of it, pulling it free from the bedsheets.

For a moment, it held its shape, as solid as Cade. The lines wavered, folding and distorting until it warped, and Cade wrapped his hand around the blade. The lines of magic slithered over his fingers, spiraling around his chest again, no longer a rose vine but instead something lethal and sharp.

Cade coughed, a droplet of blood on the corner of his lips. I reached into the paper bag from the convenience store and pulled out a piece of gauze, handing it over to him. He dabbed at his lips, and I took another piece from the bag, gently grasping the fist he had clutched closed. When he loosened his fingers, his open hand revealed a deep cut across his palm where the dagger had sliced him.

I pressed the gauze against it, reaching into the bag for medical tape. I would have to treat it later. For now, I just needed it to stop bleeding. Tearing the tape free, I wound it around his hand, binding the gauze against the wound.

“Is that it?” I asked.

Cade looked down, where I was still cupping his hand. “You should go. They aren’t looking for you.”

“I can promise you that the alpha in the wedding dress is looking for me. I’m the one that lost her the deposit on the groomsmen’s suits.” I tried to smile, but I could feel the pressure in the back of my head. Each second we wasted was another second we weren’t safe.

Cade’s fingers wrapped around mine, his skin so warm I felt like it should burn me. “House Morrison isn’t looking for you. House Bartlett isn’t going to look for you as soon as they find me. Go.”

I laughed, the sound uncomfortably raw. After so long, he was finally saying the words I’d been able to read on his face every time he looked at me. “Cade, I’m not going to abandon you.”

Cade looked up at me, his brows drawn together in a frown. “You should. You need to go.”

“Not without you,” I snapped.

“Why?” Cade asked, the word coming out petulant, snarled from a place of hurt and loss. “Why stay with me? Why waste your life onme?”

Snorting, I turned back to our bags, throwing his duffel bag at him. “You figure it out. Is that everything?”

Cade glanced around the room, then nodded. “What’s the plan?”

My shoulders dropped. Cade might not be back to himself, but at least he wasn’t going to fight me. At least he was going to follow whatever plan I came up with.

“There’s no way Morrison didn’t see me. If they’re right outside, we have the element of surprise. We fight our way to the car, then try and outrun them on the freeway. If they aren’t outside, we get in the car and try to lose them on the surface streets.” I closed my eyes, visualizing the car, where it was, what our next move would have to be.

Dos Lunas was burned for us now.

“Fight with what?” Cade’s voice had some of its old imperiousness to it. “Our biting wit?”