by Kresley Cole
Mirceo inhaled the air, catching the same smells. With a grin, he said, "Do you remember our nights of bloodshed, sweetheart?"
"Stop calling me that!"
Unperturbed, Mirceo said, "Our new opponents don't smell like Horde vampires. Could be Forbearers. They might be here for me, since King Lothaire abducted and imprisoned Kristoff, their king."
Wait, Lothaire? "The Enemy of Old is the king your family crowned?" By all accounts, Lothaire was as deranged as he was vicious.
"He's the rightful heir."
"Why in the gods' names would Lothaire kidnap Kristoff?"
Shrug. "Uncle needed someone to play chess with."
"Your entire bloody family is insane."
"Fair point. I believe the imprisonment also stems from the fact that Kristoff is Lothaire's secret half brother, on his father's side. The Horde side. For all we know, this might be Lothaire's way of bonding." Growing more serious, Mirceo said, "Those Forbearers will have swords, and we do not."
Cas bared his fangs and claws, sneering, "I'll have a sword soon enough."
"Yes, of course." Mirceo jutted his chin. "As will I."
Half a dozen vampires appeared not fifteen feet away, forming a rough semicircle, weapons raised. They had clear eyes. Forbearers. That order of turned humans took a vow never to drink blood from the flesh.
The largest male, the apparent leader of the troop, said, "As predicted, Mirceo Daciano has returned to his favorite pastime."
"Are you insinuating that I'm predictable?" Mirceo sniffed. "How unsexy." Did he concern himself about nothing?
Cas warned the newcomers, "You do not want to challenge me tonight."
"We have no fight with you, demon." The leader pointed his sword at Mirceo. "We only want the vampire."
Cas's horns straightened, his fangs lengthening. Only want the vampire? His demonic instincts erupted to a savage degree. These six would try to kill Cas, then incapacitate Mirceo to take him alive. Not while I've a breath. I'll slaughter them all.
With a cocky lift of his brow, Mirceo said, "What would you want with little ol' me?"
"You are going to show us the way to Dacia."
"I certainly shall, lamb." Mirceo's own fangs and claws sharpened, his eyes turning black. "All you have to do is come and get me."
THIRTEEN
The Forbearers split up, three attacking the demon, the others targeting Mirceo.
The largest of that trio lunged for Mirceo, swinging his sword. Ducking under the whistling blade, Mirceo used his speed to maneuver around the other two.
He punched one in the back, cracking the male's spine and catching his weapon before it hit the ground. Severing the Forbearer's head, he faced off against the remaining pair. One brashly charged, telegraphing his moves; Mirceo coldly cut him down. Sword raised against the last of his trio, he chanced a glance at Caspion.
Blood sprayed half of the demon's face as he tore his second victim's head off. Caspion seized that vampire's sword, then used the decapitated body to block the last of those three Forbearers.
The demon's eyes were obsidian black, his muscles bulging, his sinews like whipcords.
My gods, look at him. Mirceo stared in awe. He's as magnificent as I am.
Caspion showed even more confidence and daring than before--and a thousand times more ferocity. Because these enemies threatened his mate?
The idea gave Mirceo a delicious rush of adrenaline--
"Look out!" Caspion yelled.
Mirceo traced, eluding a sword strike, then swung for his attacker's neck. Wet warmth spattered his chin as a head went flying and the body collapsed to the ground. Mirceo's opponents were finished, but the demon had one left.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Caspion pivot sideways as if to throw something. With a bloodcurdling roar, he flung his sword, sending it tumbling end-over-end in the air.
Right at me.
The weapon zoomed past Mirceo's head, slicing a lock of his hair. He twisted around.
Thunk. The blade had sunk into the eye of another Forbearer who'd just materialized behind Mirceo, weapon raised for a blow. The swordsman must have remained hidden, awaiting his moment.
Mirceo swung for the male's neck, and the headless body dropped. Fuck me, that was close.
He glanced over at Caspion. Without a sword--the demon had sacrificed it to protect Mirceo--Caspion used his horns to impale the last Forbearer.
Then the demon descended upon the male in a blur of fangs and claws. When Caspion finally pulled back, the decapitated corpse collapsed at his feet. Almost as an afterthought, Caspion tossed aside the severed head he was holding.
The demon scented the air for any other hidden dangers. Satisfied, he turned to Mirceo and swiped his sleeve over his mouth, smearing blood and sweat.
Mirceo's gut clenched with wanting.
Heaving breaths, they stared at each other. Mirceo cast about for something to say. I desire you beyond reason, demon. No, too heavy. Say something cavalier. "Bravo, sweetheart." He discarded his appropriated sword. "More deaths to add to your tally, making you even stronger."
Caspion was before him in an instant, his hand wrapped around Mirceo's throat. The demon lifted him by the neck high in the air. "You think I need more strength? I slew more foes in Poly than you ever will in your life, leechling."
Mirceo gasped, "Fair point."
Caspion wasn't done. "In the future, you dispatch your godsdamned enemies immediately. Understand me? You don't play with them. On second thought, you trace away to begin with."
Aww, he was worried about me. Mirceo couldn't breathe; his lips still curved into a grin.
"Why do I bother explaining things to you?" Caspion hurled him away, but Mirceo traced to right himself and landed on his feet.
When the demon snagged a flask from his coat pocket, Mirceo recognized the scent of demon brew. Not the cheap stuff either. Had Caspion truly amassed wealth over these centuries?
Pity. Mirceo had loved spoiling the demon. Rubbing his neck, he rasped, "In the past, you never expected me to trace away then, even told me I was an uncanny fighter." Mina wasn't the only talented swordsperson in the family. All Dacians were skilled with weaponry, but Mirceo had become an expert just to keep up with her. "So what's changed? Perhaps you were worried about your mate?"
"You are not my mate!" Another slug from his flask.
"How do you explain your concern? I might not be as strong as you are, demon, but I am a Dacian; I can handle myself."
"Then why did I have to yell for you to watch your back? What if I hadn't been here to warn you?"
"It was your fault I got distracted." Mirceo's gaze roamed over him. "I was entranced by my male. Your fighting style is different than it used to be."
"Happened over time. What of it?"
"You were also more aggressive--because your instincts were screaming for you to protect me."
_______
Damn him for being right. Fear for Mirceo had rocked him. When that hidden Forbearer had appeared behind him . . .
"But you'll grow accustomed to those instincts with time, and we'll continue being a phenomenal team." Mirceo gestured at the carnage. "Look around us, demon. We could have a good run at this."
"At what?"
"Life together. And all that." Eyes lively, he said, "Let's spend the rest of eternity fighting and fucking."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might want more from life than that? I've long yearned for offspring. If I accept you as mine, I'll be relinquishing that hope forever."
Mirceo blinked at him.
"Self-centered leech! You never even considered that aspect?"
"I'm thirty; I consider very little in general." At Cas's disgusted look, Mirceo rolled his eyes. "Some of us aren't abruptly five centuries older."
"You know I want a family of my own. I talked of it often enough. A line to come after me? Ringing a bell? This was only weeks ago for you!"
"I just thought you'd . . . get over that
idea. Together we'd find other interests."
"Amazing. Other bloody interests? Fucking and fighting?"
With a mulish look, the vampire said, "Maybe."
"You consider no one besides yourself! How did I ever become friends with you? You're nothing but a selfish player with no thoughts of the future. . . ." He trailed off as Mirceo spat repeatedly. "Are you even listening to me?"
"I accidentally tasted another's blood. It's foul!"
Cas gave a mocking laugh. "You're getting spoiled on mine. Which will hurt you all the more when I deprive you of it."
Mirceo scrubbed a palm over his mouth. "You would withhold it--when depriving me of lifeblood deprives you of pleasure?"
Cas had no argument for that; ceding blood was . . . ecstasy. The healing puncture wounds in his neck felt empty--as if his skin ached to be pierced once more. To be filled. "If I'd never experienced bloodtaking, then I wouldn't know about its effect. But you forced your bite on me!"
"I admit that wasn't my best moment." Mirceo shoved his long hair off his face. "I was in the grip of my blooding."
Again, Cas marveled at the timing. He'd never heard of a male so young finding his mate. "You drank from my flesh--will you dream of my past?" As a starving little guttersnipe named Beggar.
Back then, he'd had just enough pride to be blistered by shame hour after hour.
Cas remembered a vow he'd made to himself as a seven-year-old pup: One day, when I never have to wear rags or beg anymore, I'll give myself a new name, a proud name.
He had. He'd succeeded and kept that promise. But he could never erase what came before. . . .
The bite of snow against his bare feet. The hovel he'd called home. The unrelenting hunger. The cruelty of others: If you want this feast, Beggar, you have to eat it with a little spice.
Would Mirceo see Cas as a pup, sobbing on his hands and knees?
"I probably will," Mirceo said. "Since I tapped right into one of your firm, warm veins."
"You had no right!" Inhaling for calm, he said, "I thought the great Dacians didn't drink from the flesh."
"We didn't, until we installed Lothaire as king. He's very . . . progressive. Our entire kingdom's changing dramatically."
"How many others have you drunk besides me?" Cas grew nauseated at the idea of Mirceo sinking those fangs into someone else.
"No one. I will drink from my mate alone."
"Ah, for your mate, you'll keep your fangs in your mouth. But would you keep your dick in your pants?"
He squared his shoulders. "Yes."
"How long would that last before you got bored and strayed? You always have. You dreaded the mere prospect of being faithful to your mate."
"If I'd suspected I would have a mate like you, I would've rushed headlong."
Silver-tongued vampire. "In our first conversation, you described monogamy as an intolerable hardship. Remember when you likened it to stalking a boar that had already been felled?" He pinned Mirceo's gaze. "You forget--I know you."
"Is that the reason for your hesitation with me? Or is it because I'm male?"
Cas pinched the bridge of his nose. "You'd like it to be that simplistic, wouldn't you? Then you could assign all the blame to me, instead of having to look at your own failings. Have you ever considered that the problem lies with you specifically? Maybe I don't object to the fact that you have a cock. Maybe I object to the fact that your cock has you."
Mirceo scowled. "What the hell does that mean?"
"I'm an older demon, set in my ways, but I can evolve. If my dream mate came in this physical package"--he waved at Mirceo from head to toe--"I would happily embrace my destiny. But you're not my dream. You never will be. The sooner you realize that, the more pain you'll spare yourself."
"Dreams can change. I know this as well as anyone. In time, I'll convince you."
"In time?" Cas narrowed his gaze. "How do you keep finding me?"
"I figured you would return to this palace. But just in case, I have Trehan's scry talisman." Mirceo pulled a faceted crystal from his pants pocket, displaying it. "This has been passed down through his line--the House of Shadow--for generations. It's how he found you in Abaddon."
The crystal held Cas's gaze rapt.
"When I couldn't locate you for weeks, my uncle entrusted the priceless crystal to me, because he knows how important you are to me. He feels bad about the way he treated you. Do recall that he was under the influence of poison when you two faced off."
If not for that crystal, Trehan never would've found Abaddon or entered the tournament. Cas could've won, marrying his friend and remaining beloved by his people. He would be king of the very dimension that had scorned him.
Instead, he'd returned from five centuries of hell just in time for a spoiled, dissolute princeling to stalk him--using the same fucking crystal!
Cas's hand shot forward to snatch it. Bane of my entire godsdamned existence! Baring his fangs, he squeezed his fist with all the new strength in his body.
Before Mirceo's disbelieving eyes, Cas crushed the thing--crushed it, then released the glittering dust on the night breeze. "Try finding me now." He teleported away.
_______
Abandoned among the Forbearer remains, Mirceo punted a severed head. Damn it! Somehow he'd lost ground with his mate--and he'd lost the scry crystal forever.
How would he locate Caspion now? Luckily, Mirceo was a genius and would come up with a solution. Soon.
Until then, what would he do? Just as Mina had said, Caspion had other reservations about Mirceo. He exhaled a gust of breath. Evolving as a person? There had to be another way. . . .
Aha! Galvanized by an idea, he traced back to Dacia, to a laboratory deep within the bowels of the castle.
A large hearth fire illuminated workbenches covered with arcane magic supplies. Beakers wafted yellow smoke. Dried animal parts and bundles of herbs dangled from racks.
Mirceo glanced around, but spied no one. "Balery! Where are you? I need your help!"
A comely, pointed-eared fey emerged from a back room with her dark hair knotted atop her head. "What is it now?" She wiped her hands on a work apron, leaving smears of green slime. "You're worse than Lothaire with the yelling." Balery was a concoctioness and oracle; her ever-present pouch of seer bones was affixed to her belt.
The bones that told me of my mate. "This is urgent! My demon wants pups. I don't suppose you or someone you know could turn me female for a year?"
She rolled her doe-brown eyes. "There are easier ways to go about this, vampire."
"How? Tell me." He quelled the urge to grab her hands; Balery had poisonous skin. "Please."
"You'll need an egg."
"Yes! An egg." Pause. "What do I do with an egg?" Mirceo squinted with suspicion. "What kind of egg?"
Peering at the ceiling, she muttered, "Males." She looked at him again. "You'll need a vampire or demon egg. Or any species, really. Though not a giant's. Food costs," she added knowingly.
"Say I can get one. What then?"
"With a little of my magic, the demon's seed or yours--or a splice--will fertilize the egg. Then you'll be ready for the next step: finding a female to carry your bundle of joy."
A female? Mina would do it! Females loved having babies all the time.
"After a species-specific gestation period, you and your mate will have offspring."
"Have you done this before?"
"Of course." She made a scoffing sound. "You really are a young thirty, prince."
He sighed. "So I'm coming to believe."
"Some fated pairings require an extra step to reproduce. You and your mate aren't the first, and you won't be the last."
Mirceo pictured himself and Caspion as parents to a toddling pup and grinned. What possibility! "This sounds perfect. I would like to throw gold at this problem and delegate all parts of it." He waved his hand grandly.
Her eyes went wide. "Out of my lab, Mirceo! OUT!"
"Wait, wait! I was jesting. Mostly. In all
seriousness, I will move mountains to give my mate whatever he needs. So how do I get an egg?"
"I should have a few around here somewhere." She opened and closed a couple of drawers.
"I don't need one just yet. He still has his seal." And without the crystal, Mirceo couldn't even find Caspion to tell him this good news. Ah, but Mirceo knew the demon's interests. He would track the tracker.
You can teleport, mate, but you can't hide.
"His seal?" Balery said. "I can't help you with that. Come talk to me when you wear your demon's mark."
Once Caspion claimed Mirceo, he would bite his neck, leaving his demonic mark forever. Soon. "I will. Thank you, Balery!" He blew her a kiss. Then he traced to Mina's suites, calling, "Sister, I need a tiny favor."
FOURTEEN
Going insane . . . For the last four days, Cas hadn't been able to focus on anything.
Sitting on the bed in his beach hideout, he squeezed his head in his hands. He felt as if he were back in Poly, enduring the hellishly slow passage of hours.
He'd tried to lose himself in reading, but he couldn't concentrate. He kept expecting Mirceo to show up here, though that was impossible now. No one knew about Cas's remote bungalow in the Hidden Seas, and Mirceo had no crystal.
Why had Cas destroyed it instead of stealing the thing? How idiotic and out of control!
Perhaps his demonic aggression was already cranked up--because he'd refused to claim his fated one.
No, fight this. Mirceo might have found his mate in Cas, yet that didn't mean the opposite was true.
So why did Cas feel like his guts were in knots?
He reached for a bottle of brew on the nightstand. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he guzzled the liquid, but nothing could erase the memory of Mirceo's luscious seed on his lips.
The taste had seared Cas's mind and fueled unwanted thoughts ever since. That seed is for me alone. Even now, his claws sharpened, his horns straightening. He'd blooded Mirceo, bringing him back to life. The vampire's body belongs to me.
Fight this. Cas had considered availing himself of a courtesan--or five--but Mirceo's words continued to echo in his head: Every time you're inside a female, I vow to the Lore I will be too. . . . I will let males take me.
What if the leech was actually keeping his dick in his pants? If he heard about Cas's escapades, Mirceo would be compelled to comply with the terms of that ridiculous vow.