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.