Flint, Hudson, and I exchange looks that ask pretty clearly if this girl is for real, but Remy nods like she’s said the most logical thing in the world.

Then he turns to us. “Look, for all I know, the rest of you ride a rainbow-tailed unicorn out of here. But Grace gives me a flower. I’ve seen it a million times. It’s my only way out.”

“Unicorns don’t like manticores,” Calder says matter-of-factly. “Probably because we have cooler tails. Besides, you wouldn’t leave me here, so one of the flowers must be for me, too.” She shrugs as if to say, Logic.

So now we’re down two flowers, and we haven’t even found the blacksmith yet? This is beginning to sound a little fishy to me. It must sound that way to Hudson, too, because he asks the question that’s been on the tip of my tongue since I got here. “How do you two know each other?”

The obvious answer is prison, but there has to be more to it than that. It’s such an odd friendship. They clearly love each other, but it’s not the least bit sexual. More like brother and sister.

Which makes me wonder—how far would Remy go to get Calder out of here? Far enough to trick us and try to steal a flower?

“Calder and I go way back, don’t we?” Remy gives her a slow grin. “And I’ve seen her end—and it’s not in this shithole. As for how we met… That’s her story, not mine.”

“Some stories aren’t meant to be shared,” she answers with a little shrug. “It makes them lose their magic.”

This is getting us nowhere, so I turn to Remy. I’m beginning to think I need to make one thing clear. “No one gets a flower unless we have another way out—with the blacksmith.”

Calder tilts her head as she studies me appraisingly. “I think I like this one, Remy.”

Remy just grins. “I’m sure we can come up with a way to get you guys out. If you’re lucky enough and can survive long enough and do exactly what I tell you.” His grin turns to a grimace. “But the blacksmith, well, he’s a prize down here, and not exactly small enough to hide if we plan on sneaking him out.”

Something must occur to him, because his eyes narrow as he looks each one of us over before asking, “Exactly what did you guys do to end up in here, anyway?”

“I had a disagreement with my father.” Hudson says it casually, like it’s no big deal. But his eyes are watchful as he waits to see what they do.

“A disagreement landed you in here?” Calder says skeptically. “What did you do? Turn him into a dancing chicken?”

“I turned his bones to dust.” The words are flat and obviously a challenge.

“Dust?” Calder asks. “Like ashes to ashes, dust to dust? That’s brutal.” She doesn’t seem put off by the fact.

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hudson answers, deadpan. “I just turned his bones to dust.”

An avaricious gleam enters Calder’s eyes as she looks him up and down. “You and I are going to be really good friends.”

I think we’re both okay with that proclamation until she licks her lips again and adds an eyebrow wiggle.

Hudson scooches a little closer to me on the floor, and I can’t say I blame him. So I wrap my arm around his shoulders and say, “Mine.” Simple, to the point, hard to misunderstand.

Of course, it also makes Hudson lean over and give me the goofiest smile imaginable, because ugh. Men.

Calder bats her eyes innocently before turning to Flint. “What about you, big guy?”

Flint looks a little shame-faced as he nods toward me and admits, “I tried to kill Grace.”

“Only tried to kill her?” Calder looks a little disappointed, which…thanks. It only takes her a second to bounce back, though. “I’ll tell you what,” she says with an excited squeal. “The next time you try to kill her, I’ll give you pointers. I’m really good at it. Then I’ll take Hudson, and the three of us can be best friends.”

“Tossed me over already?” Remy asks, even as I roll my eyes. Hard.

“Anyone care why I’m here? Because the answer is I’m his mate.”

“Well, that’s no fun.” Calder looks nonplussed. “Of course, that’s why the big guy’s gonna kill you, silly. Then it will all work out.”

Remy laughs and winks at me. “Ignore her, cher. She’s just trying to see what you’re made of, but she’s harmless.”

I start to reply stone, I’m made of badass stone, but then I remember this prison took my gargoyle, and my shoulders sink a little. What am I made of without my gargoyle? I honestly don’t know.

“Do you mind if I ask what the big deal is about the blacksmith?” Remy asks. “Like I said, he’s a favorite down here, so getting him out is going to be a little rough.”

We don’t answer right away. Flint, Hudson, and I exchange glances, none of us sure how much to share with our cellmates. What if Remy plans on using what we tell him to get himself out?

Then again, he seems pretty convinced he uses a flower to get out. Besides, he doesn’t know the real reason why we’re here yet, so he has no motive to lie. And Nuri specifically told Flint to find Remy. What did she know about him that would help us?

My stomach is in knots trying to figure out our next move, but one thing I do know for certain…we’re going to have to trust someone down here if we hope to get out alive. And since Remy’s the only one lining up for the job, the choice is an easy one.

I take a deep breath and pray to God I’m not wrong. “We need the blacksmith to defeat Cyrus.”

Remy’s and Calder’s eyebrows both shoot up so fast, it’s almost comical. Almost. You know, if we weren’t sitting on the floor of a prison trying to plan an escape, that is.

“So let me get this straight,” Remy says in his smooth Cajun drawl. “You three are just hanging out, planning a coup to defeat the vampire king…from prison?”

Hudson shrugs. “Ultimately, he didn’t like it much when I turned his bones to dust.”

Remy’s eyebrows are practically in his hairline now—well, what I can see of his hairline around his long, shaggy hair. “Your dad is the vampire king?”

“What’s wrong?” Hudson asks, tongue very much in cheek. “Didn’t see that one coming?”

Remy shakes his head. “Not even a little bit.”

“Oh, I am so in,” Calder says, her face positively lit from the inside with excitement as she turns to Hudson. “Like one thousand percent in. I’ll hold him down while you fuck his shit up, pretty boy.”

Flint lets out a snort-laugh and Hudson glares at him. And me? I’m grinning ear to ear. Because Calder’s eyes never sparkled when she flirted with Hudson like they are now at the thought of killing Cyrus. That’s what real interest looks like.

“What exactly did Cyrus do to you?” Flint asks Calder, and I notice Remy’s gaze softens on her.

“Oh, nothing to me,” she says while tossing a nod over at Remy. “But Cyrus is the reason my boy has been in this prison his whole life. That’s not okay.”

Remy inclines his head. “Family is everything to a manticore.” It’s as much a warning as it is a statement.

“I didn’t realize you two were related,” I answer, surprised.

“Family doesn’t have to be blood,” Calder says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I think of Xavier, of Flint and Eden, Jaxon and Hudson, Mekhi and Luca, and I couldn’t agree more. “You know what, Calder? I think I like you, too. So much that I’ll even let you flirt with my mate.”

“Wait, what?” Hudson whispers as he throws me a desperate look.

But now I’m grinning right along with Calder. “No touching, though.”

“See, I knew we were going to be friends,” Calder says. “Wasn’t I just saying that, Remy?”

“Does that mean you’ll help us?” I ask Remy.

“If it means making Cyrus pay for what he did to my mother? Oh, cher, you needn’t even ask,” he says, then tacks on, “but I will be taking one of those flowers as payment.”

113

Come On, Baby,

Cuff Me One

More Time

“Let’s assume we agree to your terms,” Hudson begins. “What’s your other idea for how to get out without the flowers? And more importantly, why didn’t you try it for you and Calder?”

Remy shrugs. “Seeing the future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The future is constantly changing. Just because I see one path doesn’t mean it’ll happen. Look at how I saw Grace giving me a flower, then she disappeared from my dreams for weeks.”

I have no idea what point he’s trying to make. “And?”

“I knew I was going to get out with a flower. I knew roughly when Calder would get out,” he says. “At least there was hope for us. To risk trying to get out another way could have failed and changed the future—meaning we might never get out.” He must see that I’m still not understanding, because he holds my gaze as he says, “What’s a better bet, cher? The sure thing that you’ll get to leave this shithole one day, even if you have to wait years, or a chance at freedom that could mean you never get out? I decided to bet on the sure thing.”