Prince of Shadows by Nancy Gideon

doesn’t listen to me, Rico. He doesn’t see any of us. The only reason he acknowledges me is because I put myself in front of him and won’t go away. I can’t afford to let myself be ignored. If he doesn’t see you, that’s not my fault, it’s yours, brother.”
    “Easy for you to say,” Rico hissed.
    “Nothing about living in this House is easy. What makes you think that crown will fit better on your head than mine?”
    “Because you don’t give a damn about any of us, any more than he does.”
    Those words took Cale like another hard punch. “That’s not true.”
    A harsh laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking when you were pounding my face in. He’s made you over into an exact copy, and none of us wants to live under that rule anymore.”
    Cale shook his head as if to deny that. Then he dove into an unexpected forward roll before his brother could react. He had Rico around the neck, pulling him over onto his stomach so he could come up astride him with the pistol in hand. While Rico squirmed furiously, Cale leaned over to confide, “When I rule, you’ll stand beside me,” before clipping him sharply with the butt of the gun to knock him out.
    From there on, Cale ran full tilt. He never slowed as he came upon James. The underbrush was thick, making Cale a hard target, but his brother was an exceptional marksman. An arrow thudded into a tree trunk beside Cale at chest level. He’d taken three more running steps when another missile ripped past his ear, caught the edge of his sunglasses, and sent them flying. Cale dodged low and scrambled, forcing his body through the dense scrub until he was out of sight. He heard no sound of pursuit. Whether his brother had missed him intentionally or not, he didn’t care to stick around and ask.
    He checked his watch and swore. Tick-tock.
    He could smell the alcohol Stephen had brought with him to help pass the time. It not only gave away his presence but slowed his reactions enough for Cale to charge him, taking him out with a few punishing hits. They were going to have words, but the lesson would have to wait until tomorrow—providing he could get through the rest of today.
    The terrain grew brutal, an obstacle course of rocks and gullies that quickly sapped his strength. It was impossible to move quietly. Pain throbbed in his head and stabbed his thigh. His lungs burned. Four miles. He could make it.
    He could feel Wes but couldn’t see him, a constant shadow at his back. Cale tried not to think of the tension between his shoulders as he waited for a bullet or a blade to find him. As he crossed into the next mile with three to go, Wesley shouted after him, “Is she worth it?”
    Cale grinned wide and shouted back, “Yes!”
    After that, he came upon one of his youngest brothers so abruptly that they both were surprised. Derrick spread his hands wide to show he meant no harm, saying, “We’re cool, we’re cool. Take a second, bro, or you’re not going to make it.”
    Cale rested his palms on his knees, breathing hard. “Can’t. Running behind.”
    “Here.” A canteen was extended. “At least have some water.” At Cale’s wary glance, Derrick laughed. “Just water. See? Look.” He uncapped it and took a long, deep drink.
    Anything to ease the fire in his throat.
    Cale nodded his thanks and took the canteen. Tipping it up to dry lips.

eight
    “Cale? Can you hear me?”
    Cale could hear, but he couldn’t understand where he was or what was happening. He tried opening his eyes. Nothing was in focus. He was on the ground with someone crouching over him. Instinctively, he tried to roll, to get his hands and knees under him, but movement woke the tearing agony in his abdomen until all he could do was tuck and groan.
    “Easy. Easy. Drink this.”
    A sliver of memory made him protest, barely a whisper, as a firm hand clasped the back of his neck and something cold flooded his mouth. It was swallow or choke. The liquid went down with a silky comfort