Page 65 of Collared by the Vampire Prince

I do not even know how to open the gate. I suppose I could acquire a vampire’s hand…

Tempting. But I don’t even have a knife. Yet.

Beyond the fence, there are no pedestrians in sight, though I can hear the city humming with life: wheels over cobbles, distant voices, the faint clatter of something being unloaded from a cart.

One of the smooth river stones comes out of my pocket. I throw it at the fence.

It strikes the iron bars and drops at once, the ward shimmering briefly where it hit, a pale ripple of magic crawling over the metal before vanishing.

Only the faintest pulse of magic reaches me from the fence, and when I try to reach out with my senses, leather presses against my throat. A warning. I tug uselessly at my collar, frustrated by the way it dulls everything else I might have been able to feel.

Still, a few more tossed pebbles later—these ones aimed higher—I am pleased to discover the ward is not a dome. It rises above the fence, yes, but only by several feet. There is no ceiling.

Which means there’s a way out.

I glance towards the trees, hope sparking before I can stop it. If I could climb high enough—

No. The leafy canopies are too low, and even if one of the trees were tall enough, I would still have to throw myself over the ward and down onto the cobbles beyond. The drop could shatter both my legs. That would be just what I need: to be scraped off the pavement by Nathaniel in pieces.

A jolt goes through me at the thought of him. I hate that he keeps appearing in my head.

Focus.

I turn the golf ball over in my palm, considering the nearest window across the road, calculating the angle. I’m tempted to see if I can smash it. For science.

“Kira?”

Becky rounds the hedge, out of breath, her hair sticking to her forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Found it.” I spin and hold up the ball. “Can you believe how far it came?”

She frowns, but she doesn’t press as we head back towards the others.

Following her, my mind stays on escape. If I could remove my collar, perhaps my own magic might coax the gate open. Or I could find a way to distract the guards.

But without the collar, I wouldn’t need the gate.

I could simply shift and fly out. As useless as my wings are, it would still be less risky and complicated than trying to breach the gate. And if I could somehow get to one of the upper balconies, high enough to catch the air properly and clear the fence, I could simply glide out.

Nothing simple about it. But it might be my best shot.

Squinting against the sun, I trace the line of the castle’s upper floors, searching for a balcony low enough to reach and high enough to glide from without breaking my neck on the way down.

My heart jolts as I spot one: a stone balcony tucked along the middle of the castle, framed by pale marble pillars and half-hidden beneath a spill of ivy.

“That looks nice up there,” I say, pointing it out to Becky. “Reckon we could have lunch there sometime?”

She frowns. “The North Tower?”

I realise she’s looking higher at a narrow black spike of stone spearing into the sky above the roofline, all slit windows and sharp edges.

“No,” I say. Fuck, no. I’m not gliding off that. It would be suicide. I’d clear the fence alright—and splatter myself on the city rooftops beyond. I point lower, to the middle portion of the castle. “That balcony. Over there.”

“That’s the headmaster’s balcony,” Becky says. “His private quarters are up there. Susie told us. Harvey kept playing this stupid guessing game every time we came outside until she finally pointed it out.”

Fantastic. Of course my best escape route leads through the headmaster’s rooms. I rub a hand over my face as the bell rings, summoning us back inside. One thing at a time.

I will fly out of here. Well, glide. It’s my best chance of leaving undetected. Far less conspicuous than using the front gates.