The Hunt (The Cage 2)

She concentrated on piercing his mind’s natural shield. She had only ever intentionally read humans’ minds before, and by contrast Cassian’s felt surprisingly chaotic. Thoughts were stacked in haphazard piles that must make sense only to him.

Out of the chaos, she sensed an image of his quarters, bare. The book he liked to read, Peter Pan and Wendy. Then a memory of the cage, of watching her from behind a panel as she found the bone he had planted in the desert. That memory seemed stronger than the others.

“The bone,” she whispered, and felt his head nod in her hands.

“Good. And what am I thinking now?”

She concentrated again, and pictured a black sky. A snow-covered hill that would have made her shiver, but in his memory, he didn’t feel the cold. One by one, lights appeared in the dark.

“Stars.”

“Yes. And now?”

He had tipped his head down, so their foreheads were pressed together. She pictured an image of her own face. She was driving in her dad’s car down country roads, singing softly to the radio. Her cheeks started to warm. His memories felt different when they were about her. They crackled at the edges, more alive. The image changed to waves lapping in the ocean, the two of them standing in the surf. In the memory, they were arguing. He was confused, frustrated, desperate. She had started to speak, but then he’d kissed her.

Her lips parted in surprise. “You’re thinking . . . of that day—”

And then, he was kissing her again. Not in a memory—in real life.

They were so close already that it had taken just a tilt of his head for their lips to meet. A current spread to her toes, and her hands instinctively slipped from the sides of his head to his shoulders. He kissed her deeper and she slid her arms around his neck. It was wrong, she knew. She’d sworn not to do this again. And yet ever since that day they’d pretended to dance together, she’d been unable to forget it.

Her hip bumped the table, and the cards fluttered to the floor. She broke the kiss and twisted to pick them up, but he held her tightly.

“Cora. Please. Do not push me away again.”

But it was too much—the kiss, what it meant, everything. She crouched down, hair falling over her face, thankful for the excuse to catch her breath. Her fingers curled around the fallen cards. She’d stand up. She’d face him. She’d tell him it couldn’t happen again. . . .

And then she realized that the Hunt had gone completely silent on the other side of the screen. No clinking glasses, no announcements from the stage. She glanced at Cassian and saw the same realization reflected in his own face.

The wooden screen jerked open.

Arrowal stood on the other side. “You. Girl. Come with us.”

The blood drained from her face. Surely he hadn’t seen the kiss. Behind him, Fian stood with two Kindred guards. When his eyes met hers, they flamed with warning.

Cassian was rapidly cloaking himself. “I have reserved this girl’s entertainment for the rest of the quarter rotation.”

“That is inconsequential,” Fian said. “There has been a murder.”

Cold fear crept up her body until she was nearly blinded by it. Arrowal didn’t take his eyes off Cora. “The boy Tessela arrested, Dane, revealed it during his interrogation. We scanned the environment and found high traces of carbon. A body. Roshian’s body. And according to Dane, this girl was the only one present at the time of his death.”

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say to clear her name.

“Take her to an interrogation room,” Arrowal ordered.

The two guards stepped forward. Fian’s eyes—looking for instruction—flashed toward Cassian, but Cassian seemed at a loss too, his face returned to a mask to hide whatever it was he was truly feeling.

“Wait.” Fian stepped in front of one of the guards. “I will interrogate her. This matter is too important to entrust to the guards alone.”

Relief flowed into her heart. Fian would protect her, just as he had before.

Arrowal nodded. “I agree. Which is why I will interrogate her personally. The mind cannot hide the truth for long. We will soon know everything.”

Everything.

If they probed her mind, they’d learn about more than just Roshian’s murder. They’d learn about her abilities and the training sessions with Cassian and the Fifth of Five, and god, even the kiss.

Cassian blocked the door. “No.”

His command was sharp. The guards obeyed by instinct, taking a step back as though he was their commander, not Arrowal. Cora’s heart pounded wildly.

What was he doing?

Arrowal seemed to tower even a few inches higher. “You question me, Warden?”

“You only saw a portion of the truth in Dane’s mind,” Cassian said. “You saw the events that led up to the murder, but not the crime itself. You couldn’t have, because Dane was not present when it happened.”

There was a subtle shift in the air that left Cora baffled. Why was he saying all this?

For a second, Cassian’s eyes shifted to Fian, and Fian gave a slight nod. Cora had no idea what silent message had just transpired between the two of them.

“And how do you know that?” Arrowal countered.

Cassian didn’t immediately answer.

Cora willed herself to keep breathing steadily. Fian’s hand was flexing a few inches from his apparatus belt, almost like he was preparing for something. Was that what the look between them had meant? That Cassian was going to try to fight his way out of this? Enact the Fifth of Five’s secondary plan that he’d told her about, launching a war?

They wouldn’t last ten minutes.

“You are always trying to protect the lesser species,” Arrowal said, a hint of condescension in his voice. “But this girl is no longer a ward in one of your environments. You cannot protect her against her own crimes. Now tell me how you know Dane was not present, if you were not present yourself.”

Cora tossed a look at Cassian, but his face revealed nothing. She tried to probe into his thoughts, but her own mind was too fractured, her thoughts too scattered to concentrate. All she glimpsed was a shadowy image of his quarters again. She was there, her mouth moving, a card in her hand. He was thinking of the lesson where she had taught him to cheat.

“I know,” he said calmly, “because I was present.”

A lie.

Her lips parted. Fian’s hand flexed again, and it all seemed to happen so fast. She pressed deeper into Cassian’s head, and suddenly his head turned toward her, as though he could feel her there. The sensation of his thoughts changed. That brighter, more alive feeling came. Images of her flashed through his head. Her, standing on a beach. Her, looking out her bedroom window. Her, when she had first felt the electricity of their touch. A feeling of love was wrapped around each one, but there was something darker too.

“Why exactly were you present at a murder scene?” Arrowal asked, and for a second the room was silent.

Cassian glanced down at the queen of diamonds on the floor. As though the world had suddenly turned on its side, Cora realized what he was about to do. It didn’t have anything to do with the Fifth of Five or any secondary plans. It was why he’d shown her all the images, surrounded by love.

He was going to sacrifice himself for her.

Words rose up her throat, about to tell him that he was making a terrible mistake. She hadn’t taught him to lie so he could lie about this.

At the same time, Fian took a sharp step right behind her, as though sensing what she was about to do.

“Because it was me,” Cassian said. “I killed Roshian.”

36

Cora

“NO!”

The words rushed up Cora’s throat, but Fian’s hand crushed against her mouth. She screamed into his palm but he didn’t let go, and her words became muffled protests. It made sense now. This was the secret look he and Cassian had exchanged. At some point they must have made plans for a worst-case eventuality like

this. Cassian would confess, and Fian would prevent her from telling the truth.

“Guards,” Fian commanded. “Take the Warden into custody.”

Cora bucked against his hand, but it was like fighting a riptide. She met Cassian’s eyes. They had gone black now.

Cloaked.

Which meant he could read her thoughts.

“Don’t do this,” she urged with her mind. “You did nothing wrong.”

His face was a mask, but she could see in the flicker of his eyes that he understood.

“Take the two of them to separate holding rooms.” Arrowal seemed coldly pleased by her anguish. “And watch him closely,” he added. “Summon me once the interrogations are ready to begin.”