Shadow's Seduction (Immortals After Dark #16) - Kresley Cole Page 0,23

introduced to others. They will be presented to you, because you are now a royal of the House of Castellan, the heart of our kingdom.”

“Me? A prince?”

Mirceo nodded. “Mina and I are all that’s left of our house. We need you, Caspion—”

“Shut up.” Awareness lifted the fine hairs on Cas’s nape. The rolling hills surrounding the brothel were too still. Insects and night creatures had fallen silent. He surveyed the terrain. One by one vampires materialized in the distance.

“No need to be rude, you lout.” Mirceo sighed. “But if I must, I’ll polish your manners along with your knob.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Vampires close in on us.” They emanated menace. Excellent. He needed to vent some frustration.

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

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