"At least tell me if you're still in danger."
"That's more digging!"
He inhaled deeply. "I find myself in a position I've never been in before. I'm besieged by . . . instinct. And you are the focus of it."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I need to kill. For unending years, I was naught but death, with no judgment, only duty. But now . . ."
"But now we're done talking about my past, or I'm leaving."
He parted his lips to say something, thought better of it, then said, "Very well." He ushered her back to the divan, handing her drink to her and reclaiming his own. "What would you like to speak of? I'll accommodate you."
"You know more about me than I'd supposed. I know very little about you and your kind."
Another slight frown. "I'm not used to explaining what I am. Unless it's to someone I'm about to kill. And what I have been for over nine hundred years has changed drastically in the last twenty-four hours."
Cas had said that Daciano was at least eight centuries old. But to hear it from the vampire's own lips . . . "You're over forty times my age?"
Had a flush colored his chiseled cheekbones? "Give or take."
"You were-give or take-eight hundred and eighty years old when I was born!"
Voice gone low, he said, "So now you know how very long I've waited for you to come into this world."
Now she felt her cheeks flush. "You said you were a prince. Is your father king of the Dacians?"
"My father's long dead. I'm one of several contenders for the throne." He glanced down at his goblet. "Or I was."
"You really can't return?"
"No."
She almost felt guilt about his loss. Then she remembered she'd never asked him to give up his realm. "But now you intend to be the king of the Abaddonae?"
"I have absolutely no aspirations toward that. Though I understand that co-ruling this plane is expected of me, if I intend to live my life with you."
The vampire made it sound like the crown-which every suitor coveted-was a necessary evil he'd put up with to be with her. Even Cas must desire the throne, if just a little.
Flustered, she fiddled with her mask-her nervous tell. His gaze fixed on her hand. "What weapons have you tonight?" he asked, pointing to the four rings on her right hand. "There must be more to those than meets the eye."
Was it any wonder that her jewelry designs had become so . . . dark? Sometimes she thought she might have gone mad without that creative outlet.
And for some reason, this vampire was intrigued by it.
Her guardians considered her craft demeaning. Caspion scratched his head, unable to understand her compulsion to create.
She remembered the day she'd called a meeting with Raum and Morgana to discuss her education. "I want to learn more about design. And mortals are surprisingly good at it. They use computers and tools I can only dream of here."
"What would you do with this knowledge?" Raum had asked. "Continue with your hobby?"
Chapter 19
"It's no hobby. I've been commissioning my pieces here and there to acquaintances. But I'm thinking bigger. I want to sell them . . . I want to sell them on the open market!"
They'd looked at her as if she'd grown two heads.
"Become a tradesman?" Morgana had hissed.