The Shadow Prince Page 35

I’ve begged for mercy only once in my life—the day my honor was stripped away—but I have never done it since. Not from Rowan or the Court. Not from my father. And I have no intention of giving Simon the pleasure.

“Never,” I gasp. I try to move again, but my body stays still and uncooperative.

“Good luck with that, boy,” Simon says. “Do you know what I’m capable of? I’ve made men into kings and celebrities, and helped topple governments with only a few sentences. I think I can get a little kopros like you to invoke elios if I want. Say it.”

I feel the word forming in my mouth. I bite my tongue to stop it.

I taste blood.

“Say. It,” Simon says, glaring deep into my eyes. His words burrow inside my head and I cannot stop myself any longer from complying with his demand. It is as if he controls my mouth.

“Elios,” I croak, before clamping my teeth shut.

Simon lets go, a satisfied smile on his face.

I stay rigid against the wall. Dax remains still also. I see Garrick watching between the rungs in the staircase’s banister. I cannot make out the look on his face.

“Now that that’s settled,” Simon says, straightening his tie, “I have a charity auction to get to. Anyone fancy accompanying me to the ballet next month? I think I’m going to bid on season tickets. No? Well, then, I’m off.” He picks up his glass and takes another sip of the thick red liquid. He smacks his lips. “Mmmm. Feel free to help yourselves to the beet juice in the fridge. It’s great for the metabolism.”

We all watch in frozen disbelief as Simon rinses out his glass in the sink and then grabs his keys. “Good night,” he hollers when he leaves through the door to the garage. “Oh, and you can relax now.”

With his words, the rigidness leaves my body and I slump down against the wall. I cough, and blood stains my hand. Dax rushes over to help me. I wave him away. I’m not ready to accept his help. Not after he had even entertained the idea that I could have hurt that girl.

But what stings even more than my bleeding tongue and my bruised ego is the look of disappointment in Dax’s eyes, knowing that I lied to him.

Chapter twenty

DAPHNE

I sit in my private TV room in the east wing of the house, flipping through the channels, looking for some sort of report on what happened to Pear, but apparently the local news comes on much later in California than it does in Utah. I find myself fighting to keep my eyes open. I don’t want to fall asleep. Because every time I start to drift off, all I can see are those fiery green eyes staring back at me.…

I sit bolt upright when I hear a hissing noise, only to realize that I left the TV on the animal channel. A cobra dances on the screen, hissing at a mongoose. I don’t wait to see who wins the fight, and hit the power button.

The clock on the wall says it’s just after ten o’ clock. Which means it’s just after eleven in Ellis. It’s been longer than twenty-four hours since I’ve spoken to anyone back home. I don’t have my cell, so I don’t know if any of them have tried to text or call me, and at the moment, I feel desperate to hear a familiar voice. I know it’s too late in the evening to try my mom, but CeCe and Jonathan are usually up until at least eleven thirty on a Saturday night.

I pick up the handset for the landline and dial CeCe’s number. It goes to voice mail after a few rings. I’m not all that surprised, since she never answers numbers that she doesn’t recognize. I listen to her voice on the message service, her comforting tone coming through, even on a recording.

“Hey, it’s me,” I tell the voice mail. “This is my new home number. It might be the best way to reach me for a while. Talk at you later … I miss you.”

I hang up and try Jonathan. Luckily, he answers.

“Hey, honey,” he says, and I can hear him turning off Saturday Night Live. “About time you called. Tell me about your day.”

And for the first time, the trauma of the day comes crashing in on me, and I burst into tears.

Jonathan coaxes me into telling him what happened, and I relay the story of my nearly disastrous—but thankfully not—audition and how that led me to finding Pear in the grove with Tobin. I tell him about the gashes on her arm, and how the security guards didn’t believe me when I said that I thought she’d been attacked. I leave out how I know who the perpetrator probably is—because I know if my mom gets wind of that part of the story, she’ll demand that I get on a plane and fly home immediately. She might even come out here and drag me home herself.

Even with everything that happened today, I am not ready to give up and leave.

It’s just past midnight when I fall asleep to Jonathan’s dulcet, reassuring tones as he tells me that everything is going to be okay.

Chapter twenty-one

HADEN

I wake in the middle of the night, knowing there’s an intruder in my room. A sudden thunk, like something hitting the ground, awakens me, and before I have a chance to sit up, an unexpected weight lands on my chest. Two bright eyes stare into mine. In my confusion, electricity surges into my hands and I am about to strike—until the thing on my chest licks my face.

I blink. “Brimstone?”

The cat meows plaintively in response. She stands with her front paws on my collarbone.

“How did you get here?” I lift her up and get out of bed. I see the bag I’d brought with me from the Underrealm toppled over on the table in the corner. “Have you been hiding in there this whole time?”

She puts her paw on my face.

“Naughty girl,” I say.

She hisses.

“Sorry.” I stroke her head, trying to soothe her before she gets really angry. “But do you know how much trouble I can get into for bringing a hellcat into the mortal world? Intentional or not?”

She purrs.

“I missed you, too, Brim.”

She climbs up my chest, sinking her little claws into my skin as she goes, and then settles on my shoulder.

“You must be hungry.”

My thought is to get Brim some food and then figure out how to hide her in my room from the others, but when I enter the kitchen, I find it already occupied.

Dax sits at the kitchen table. A paper sack giving off an unfamiliar smell sits in front of him, and he’s holding a tablet of a sort that resembles a larger version of my iPhone. The light coming off the screen illuminates his face in the dark room. A look of worry is etched into his features. I am about to turn around and leave when he looks up from the tablet. He sees me and turns the device off.