Page 23 of Exiled Heir

“Try to sleep,” Cade said, ignoring my implied question. “We’ll talk in a few hours.”

Then he crawled onto the bed, shutting the curtains behind him. I focused on my breath, and soon, exhaustion overtook me.

I wasn’t sure how long I slept, but I woke, heart racing, when Cade cried out in pain.

* * *

I leapt off the bench, striding across the room in four long steps. Cade made a muffled yelp. At the sound of him pushing, the shift of bedsheets, his heart rate skyrocketing, I grabbed hold of the curtains, struggling to pull them open.

But I couldn’t. They wouldn’t move. They were stuck so tightly to each other it was almost as though Cade had stitched them together.

“Cade,” I barked. “How do I open this?”

On the other side of the curtains, there was sudden stillness. Then, something black oozed from Cade’s bed, seeping through the hem of the curtains. I stared at it as it flowed over my bare feet.

“Get back,” Cade said harshly.

Gaping, I retreated, narrowing my eyes at the closed curtains. Swiftly, Cade threw them open.

Cade shifted his body, sitting at the edge of the bed. He glared at me, then looked away.

“Never interrupt my sleep again.” He kept his words low, as though he was afraid of people hearing even through the soundproofed walls. He was pale, his skin gray, and when he breathed, I could hear the catch in it, his heart still racing.

“What was that?” I pressed.

“Nothing.” He swallowed, then pushed off the bed. As he stood, walking to the bathroom, the inky black followed behind him, climbing up his socks until it disappeared entirely under the cuffs of his pants.

I stared after him, my mouth working for a moment before I shook my head, following him. The bathroom door was partially closed behind him, and I slammed it open.

At the sink, Cade jumped, dropping his glass of water. It shattered, glass shards spraying across the white tile.

A flush rose up Cade’s face, pinking his cheekbones. He bared his teeth, taking a long breath before bending down and picking up one shard of glass.

With a glance at me, he closed his eyes, and dark lines flowed from his fingers down onto the ground, sweeping across the floor and gathering all the pieces of glass to him. I saw them form a black cup in his hand, the lines of tattoo drawing it in the air.

Blinking, he opened his eyes, and the lines of tattoo flowed up his fingers and under his shirt. The lines of the snake along his arm rippled, and the mouth opened, a tongue flicking out before the snake went still again.

Cade stood, observing the glass in his hand. He turned to the sink, filling it. Tilting his head back, he gulped down the water, his throat working up and down.

Then, carefully, he set the glass back on the counter with a click.

“What was that?” I jerked my thumb toward the bed.

“Nothing.” Cade looked back at me and rolled his eyes. “A nightmare. Even mages occasionally get them.”

“What was it about?” I asked.

“I’m not paying you to play therapist. My nightmares are my problem.” Cade turned his back to me, and I heard his heart rate kick up, but he didn’t turn back around.

“No,” I said. I was trying for calm, but the words came out as a growl. “No more playing games. Someone is trying to kill you. Someone has killed people in your orbit because ofyou. There are at least four people in your house that are selling your secrets or buying them. You say you trust me to do the right thing. So, trust me with this. Tell me what you know.”

“Yes.”

I stared at him, the affirmative not even beginning to answer my questions. “Yes, what?”

“Yes. There have been two deaths. People who were with me or in the killer’s way.” He looked away from the glass, turning his head to stare at me. “Sonja isn’t a problem. She’s too loyal to House Bartlett. Brett Kulsa might be involved, but he’s too obvious. His machinations are too simple. He wants a seat on the council, and he won’t get that if House Bartlett crumbles at his feet.”

“You have a servant selling you out,” I pointed out.