The Shadow Prince

chapter seventeen HADEN

“Touch those shears to my head one more time and I swear to Hades, I will blast your face off!”

Dax only laughs, and snips at my hair again. “Just a few more cuts,” he says. “I got pretty good at this when I was here before.”

Underlords, even Lessers, don’t cut their hair. When my father had cut my braid from my head, it was the first time a blade had touched my hair. Cutting a Champion’s braid is supposed to symbolize rebirth. The start of a new life. To me, it feels like an insult. With every snip Dax makes, I feel that what little is left of my honor is falling to the floor.

Garrick sulks in the corner. Someone had fetched him new clothes and he’s changed out of his grubby robes. His eyes are pink and watery, still irritated from the harsh light of the sun. His hair is shorn almost to the scalp.

“You cut my hair as short as the Lesser’s, and I will kill you.”

“Promises, promises.” Dax chuckles again. For a former Underlord, he laughs far too often. Then again, former is the word that needs to be emphasized with Dax. “I had to shave Garrick’s hair. It was filthy and matted, so I had no other choice. Yours, on the other hand”—he makes one last snip—“is done.”

I jump out of the chair I’ve been forced to sit in through this ordeal and quickly bring my hands to my head. I brush my fingers through what hair remains. It is longer than Garrick’s, but I can tell that a slight curl pulls at the edges of my shaggy locks over my ears. “What have you done?” I demand. “You have made my hair curl like a Boon’s, or a nursling’s!”

Dax shrugs. “Sometimes you don’t know you have curls until you cut your hair. Besides, it’s not all that bad. The girls will love it.” He puts the shears down on the kitchen table and I am sorely tempted to stab him with them. “Now, as promised, you will get your reward. Follow me outside.”

Dax is looking giddy again. This concerns me greatly, but I follow him still. Garrick trails behind us out of the house. What I see in the driveway makes my mouth water with anticipation.

“Unbelievable,” Garrick whispers. It’s the first word I’ve heard him speak since we passed through the gate.

“Are those automobiles?” I ask.

“Cars,” Dax says. “Call them cars. Master Crue’s take on English vocabulary is a bit archaic. And these are more than cars. They’re Teslas. Very hard to get, but Simon procured them for us this afternoon. There’s a Model X and a Model S—but the Roadster is mine.” He points out each car respectively.

Garrick, having suddenly found new life, runs to the Roadster. His fingers caress the lines of the car. “Can I … Will you teach me to drive?” He looks at Dax with an eagerness in his eyes. He’s like a Lesser who’s been given an entire hydra leg for supper.

“Lord Haden first,” Dax says. “And we’ll take the Model S. Neither of you is touching my Roadster until you’ve mastered driving.”

Garrick’s shoulders drop and he skulks into the backseat of the car.

“Best thing about these cars,” Dax says, placing his hand on the hood of the Roadster. “They’re powered by electricity.” I see a soft blue pulse radiate out from under his hand into the hood of the car. It is quiet, but the Tesla comes to life under his touch—the headlights gleaming like beacons in the dusk of the evening. “You’ll never have to stop for fuel; just give it a zap every few hundred miles. You could drive from here until the ends of the earth and no one could catch you.” A wistful look lights in his eyes. I wonder if it’s the thought of driving from here until the ends of the earth that seems to enchant him, or the idea of never being caught.

Dax insists on being the one to drive the Model S first so I can watch and absorb how it’s done. He takes us up a few side streets until we reach a large, empty, paved area that surrounds a building with a tall spire. He drives us slowly around the lot for a few minutes, explaining the name and function of each part of the car.

“You think you’ve got it down?” he asks.

I nod, aching to get my hands on the steering wheel.

We trade places. I melt into the leather driver’s seat, and the moment my hands touch the steering wheel, I am sure that I know how to drive this thing. I can feel it in every muscle of my body. My foot makes contact with the accelerator. I press it down and it feels as though the car becomes an extension of myself. I press harder and the burst of acceleration sends us rocketing forward. I spin us around the lot several times but it isn’t enough. I want to be out on the open road. I want to actually go somewhere. The speed makes me feel as if I am one of the screech owls soaring from the roost.

I know exactly where I want to go. Dax would say I am being foolish. But he doesn’t have to be told where we are going or why. I just want to see where she lives. It’s recon, I tell myself, picturing the map of her address in my head.

I steer the car out of the empty lot and onto the road. Dax starts to protest that I’m not ready, but I don’t listen. I want to fly.

We tear down the street while he shouts commands at me. But he isn’t the Champion here. He’s the servant. I’m the one who should be in charge. I pick up the speed.

Garrick lets out a cheer from the backseat.

“Now, that was a stop sign!” Dax shouts. “Slow down! You don’t know the rules of the road yet.”

At the moment, I don’t give a harpy’s ass about rules. We are only one turn away from her house.

“Flashing lights!” Dax yells. “Flashing lights! Stop now!”

I don’t know what he means until I see lights flickering in the distance in front of us.

“Police,” he says. “Flashing lights means police!”

A thought surfaces from one of the recesses in my brain. Police are like the royal guard, enforcers of the law. I slam on the brakes. Dax grips the dash as we come to a halt. I hold my breath, waiting for the flashing lights to advance on us. Only after a few moments do I realize that they are stationary. The vehicles with flashing lights are parked along the street. Several people stand out on the lake trail that is adjacent to the street. I think I recognize the shape of one of them.

I lift my foot off the brake and nudge the accelerator. We roll forward slowly toward the flashing lights.

“What are you doing?” Garrick says nervously. I can tell he likes the idea of encountering human police as much as he likes encountering one of Ren’s guards. “Let’s turn around. Go back.”

“I want to see what’s going on. Don’t you, Dax?”

Dax can’t deny it. “Maybe that’s not the best idea,” he says instead.

I move forward and come to a stop by one of the vehicles with flashing lights. It isn’t an official police car, I realize as I read the seal on the driver’s side door. OLYMPUS HILLS SECURITY. A man in a blue uniform steps out of the car and I roll down the window. A terrible scent stings my nose, but there are so many new scents in this world that I can’t quite place it.

“You’ll need to go around,” the security guard says. “No rubbernecking.”

I don’t know what that means, but I give the guard my most earnest look. “What’s going on? We live around here. Is there anything we should be worried about?”

“Couple of kids found a girl in the lake. Near the grove.” He sighs, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said so much. “Now move along.” He pats the roof of the Tesla.

As he moves away from the window, I finally get a view of what I came to see. I’d been right when I recognized the curve of her body, even from a distance. Daphne Raines is standing in front of another set of security guards. She’s talking with her hands, giving emphasis to her words. I can tell she’s upset. There’s a boy with her. He’s shorter than she is, but he has his arm stretched up around her shoulder. It’s a familiar gesture that makes my hands feel hot. A thin stream of blue electricity crackles around the steering wheel.

“Haden, are you all right?” Dax asks.

I’m not sure what causes her to do it, but Daphne looks over toward our car. I hit the accelerator and drive away before she has a chance to see me.

I take us back to the house and pull the Tesla into the garage. Dax waits until Garrick has gone inside the house before he grabs me by the arm at the doorway.

“Did anyone see you when you went to the grove? Can anyone put you near there?”

“No,” I lie. “I went there and came straight back,” I say as we enter the house.

“Tsk, tsk,” someone says from the living room, but it isn’t Garrick. “Didn’t your mother teach you that lying is bad manners?”

As we round the corner into the living room, Simon stands up from the armchair. He holds a short, fat glass filled with bright red liquid. His voice sounds as cheery as ever, but the look in his eyes says that he’s not the least bit happy.

“Simon?” Dax says. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were going out for the night.”

“So did I.” Simon takes a deep swig from his glass and sets it neatly on a coaster on the coffee table. He smiles at me, the red liquid staining his teeth. “I’m here because of what Haden did in the grove.”