It was large, hanging heavy between both my hands. I was no reptile expert, so I didn’t recognize the markings: mostly black, with patches of white that formed diamond shapes and patterns.
When it moved, trying to slither up my arm, I adjusted my grip, keeping it in my hands. I didn’t want it anywhere near my throat.
“This is Basil. He doesn’t know how tomind his own business.” Cade was closer than I expected, and I felt like I was the snake, sensing the heat in his skin just by proximity.
He held out his hands, and I offered the snake over. It was large enough that we didn’t have to touch each other in order to exchange it.
When it was in his hands, it stretched out, crawling over his shoulders before settling its head next to his ear.
“Basil?” I asked.
Cade’s face went stony, his lips pursed. “Short for basilisk. I got him when I was young.”
“Basilisk.” I couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. “You were a fan of the David Duncan books?”
“I was into classics. I hardly believe that anyone would putDavid Duncan and the Horrible Fateon par with Homer or Sophocles. It’s common for mages to read Ancient Greek and Latin. For spellwork.” Cade turned away, but then his head twitched, and he whispered something under his breath to the snake. “No. Stop it.”
“Awww. Is the snake hungry?” I grinned.
“Yes. He’s suggesting that I let him eat you, as he has been a very good boy for the past two days.” Cade glanced at me. “Luckily for you, I think his eyes are bigger than his stomach in this case, and I wouldhateto have to explain to the veterinarian why I let Basil eat something that overstretched his intestines.”
Cade pressed his palm to the wall next to his bed, and a secret compartment opened up, the wall sliding back to reveal an empty terrarium. Carefully, he detangled the snake from his shoulders and arm, placing it on a large rock in the center. Then he shut the lid and flicked on a red heat lamp.
He pressed his hand to the wall above the terrarium, and it slid back down. Narrowing my eyes, I tried to see the seam or any evidence of what was behind the wall, but it was completely invisible.
With the snake gone, there was nothing in the room to distract us from each other. Cade crossed his arms over his chest, the barest hint of another black tattoo darting out from under his shirt before disappearing again.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“The plan.” Cade licked his lips, a quick dart of tongue that reminded me of Basil.
“The plan? Your goal is to find whoever is trying to kill you, isn’t it? So, how are you going to do that?” I put my hands in my pockets, the feel of fabric still buttery soft. Sometimes Declan would play games like this, where he pretended that there wasn’t a job, and then dropped me in the middle of a gunfight.
Cade stared at me, his face going pinched.
“Youhavea plan, right? Your plan isn’t just that I’ll take the bullet for you next time someone tries to kill you.” I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“We’re mages. There aren’t bullets.” Cade waved a dismissive hand.
“Still, what am I supposed to do? Follow you around like a puppy? Hope for the best?” I felt my anger mounting. “Have you even started looking? Should I just go around asking people if they’re trying to kill Prince Bartlett?”
“Well, if you think that’s the best way to do it, I leave it to your expertise. I’m no authority, but I think people would be suspicious if you randomly started asking them if they’re the killer.” Cade raised an eyebrow.
“It might work. Wasn’t there an Agatha Christie detective who ended up on a secluded mage estate and had to find the killer?” I asked.
“If you’re suggesting Hercule Poirot went suspect to suspect asking if they were thekiller—” Cade broke off. “You’re teasing. The plan doesn’t need to be complicated. There will be a lot of eyes on my new consort. Your job is just to keep them off me. To be the good consort.” Cade raised his chin, striding past me toward the bathroom.
I gaped after him, then, irritation mounting, followed him into the bathroom. Cade stood in front of the sink, staring at the glass from last night. When I came in, he glanced at me, then reached for a toothbrush in a gleaming silver holder.
Before he could grab for the toothpaste on the counter, I slapped my hand over it, so close to him I could feel the heat of his skin on mine. The hair on my arms rose, and the growl in my throat felt unnaturally human.
“No,” I managed.
Cade arched an eyebrow, a small smirk playing across his mouth. “No? Who are you to tell meno?”
“No. You can’t order me around. I’m not really your consort. I’m your partner—we agreed on that.” I leaned in, aware of how much taller I was than Cade, using my height as an advantage. He might look down on me as a partner in this game, but I could make him look up to me right now. “And as your partner, I’m telling you that walking around and hoping that the killer takes a shot at you isn’t aplan. That’s murder.”
Cade’s glare seemed to flow from his face over his arms. The dark black lines of his tattoos reappeared, and he fisted my shirt. I felt the fabric pull tight across my shoulders.
