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Tristan releases a breath. "I guess so," his voice is low, and I'm afraid I hurt him with the word. It must be painful, being a slave since you were a kid, no way out, no escape. The same need I felt of rescuing the puppy boils inside me, burns within my veins. I want to take Tristan with me. I want him to see the world, to have a chance at living a life.

“The other servants,” I start, keeping his eyes on me. “Are they slaves too? A girl brought me food earlier. She didn’t look happy.”

Tristan nods. “That was Mei. Everyone here was kidnapped. Everyone but some guards. They’re too strong to overcome. We tried.”

It’s thewetried that hurts the most. The words reek of crushed hopes and painful memories. My hands close in fists and I snap my eyes shut. Air in and out. I'm not here to save anyone. I'm no hero. All I need to care about is getting my ass out of this cage, then out of this palace and away from the Collector. Without anyone waiting for me outside, I'll have to think of a place to hide, then develop some plan. I don't want to be sold, and worse. I can't be sold to Kayn. He knows what I am, and he has obvious plans for my powers. Whatever he wants me for, it can't be good.

When I open my eyes and meet Tristan's gaze again, I have hardened my emotion. I need to get out of here. Even if I have to use someone like him.

CHAPTER 6

CASSANDRA

Tristan brought me dinner himself, and he sat in front of my cage and talked me into eating. I want to convince myself I only did so because I started to tremble from low blood sugar, but his wide blue eyes did a good part of the convincing. He didn't even get to talk much. I asked him to explain how the auctions work, and then the lights went off, and Tristan walked away with regret on his face. It made me smile.

I shake my head at my foolishness as I settle against the corner to fall asleep. Plans. I have to make plans. Tristan said there's this evening cocktail when the Collector shows his pieces off to his potential clients. They go upstairs to a dining hall where they discuss and make small talk, then settle for the evening. Tristan said that's usually when some clients go away, not interested in the merchandise, and others make alliances and loans and ask for favors. Favors seem to be a currency in this world.

The auctions take place in the morning, especially because some of the clients can't take the sunlight and the Collector uses that as a weapon if someone tries to steal from him. The man thought of everything. I would admire that if he hadn't also captured me and hundreds if not thousands of others, including children. Both the puppy and Tristan were brought here at a vulnerable age, and the thought still makes me grind my teeth.

Another thing Tristan told me is that this cage is unbreakable. The wards keeping it together are so strong it would require an especially talented mage or witch to break them. Tristan doesn't know the difference between the two either. All we know is that I'm not leaving the easy way.

I chew on my bottom lip. What I need is to use the moment they open the cage to escape. I don't have control over who buys me, and I can only hope it won't be Kayn, but whoever does, I'll have a short window of opportunity. Once they open the cage to let me out, I have to fight. It's the one moment I'll have. With Tristan showing me the way, I can slip out the back door.

Steps clack down the hallway, and I look up. My heart skitters and I wonder if Kayn came to grin his fangy smile at me again. Instead, the soft rustle of a long robe announces the appearance of a creature I had never seen. My mouth drops.

He stops in front of the cage, towering over me. He's lithe as a tree, reaching up, thick wood-like horns curl up from his head, increasing the impression. His features are sharp but not like Donatello's. No, his are truly jagged, angled cheekbones that protrude from his skin and pointy ears that escape amid the dark green hair cascading down his shoulders. A dark line cuts his lower lip and chin, like an old tattoo, and the robes gracing his thin body are emerald green and lush like an ancient forest.

I look at him and I can only think of wild, untamed nature. An unsettling feeling races through my veins as I shoot to my feet.

The corner of his mouth tilts into a smile, and even that is sharp. "I thought you'd be sleeping, Shadow Mage."

I swallow. This is the first time someone calls me like this. I'm not sure I like that. "Cassandra is fine. I've always thought it was a nice name."

His smile widens. "It is a nice name. And names are quite important, don't you think?"

I narrow my eyes. "Yeah?" There's a question mark to my sentence because he said it like it's such an important shit. "What's your name then?"

He chuckles, cocking his head as his gray eyes shine with amusement. "Prince."

Lie. Why would he lie about his name? It's not like I can do anything with that. Does he think I can make a loan using his first name only? Well, who cares. I tilt my chin up. "Alright, Mr. Prince. You're here for the auction, I guess. You'll be disappointed to learn I have no idea how to use my powers."

He shrugs. “Easy fix. The basics of magic are the same for everyone. I have mages in my household, and I have some dominion of magic myself." He crosses his arms, tucking them into his sleeves. "A Shadow Mage." He sighs, his gaze swathing down my body with a sort of admiration I dislike. "And you're quite a sight for a human."

I curl my nose. "What are you, anyway? I've seen some horned people around, but you're new."

His face goes paper white, jaw dropping. He reaches up, fingers brushing up a horn, and I see how freaking sharp his black nails are. "You can see my horns?" he asks, and I arch an eyebrow.

"Of course I can."

"What color is my hair?" His hand falls to his shoulder, where he captures a strand of hair.

Is this some sort of catch? Like that 'is this dress blue or white' meme from some years ago? "Um, green?" Should I reply with the precise Pantone number? Maybe he thinks humans are color blind.

Prince — or whatever his name is — cracks up, throwing his head back. "Well! And you said you couldn't control your powers."

"I can't," I insist.

He leans forward, a knowing smile on his face. "Seeing through illusions is a Shadow Mage power."


Tags: Taylor Fox Paranormal