Shadow's Claim

And each night he’d hunted her attackers relentlessly. Sixty days of hardly eating or sleeping.

But a month ago, Raum had ordered an exhausted Cas off the trail, promising that a cadre of soldiers would take over. Bitterly disappointed, Cas had vanished, returning only last night.

Now he took another drink. “Why in the gods’ names didn’t you wait for me to come back before you agreed to something like this tournament?”

Because my godparents pushed so hard. Because I feel unwhole without my power. Because they withheld the worst details of this medieval fiasco.

“I had little recourse.” And even less now. In fact, Bettina had only one move available to her: seduce Caspion. Only a virgin could be offered up for the tournament. “And besides, I had no idea when you would return since you left me no word.” Over the years, he’d disappeared from time to time, going on his more perilous hunts —or benders or attending orgies or whatever else he and his wild friends did.

“What’s done is done, Cas. The fact remains that unless I come up with a way out of this tournament before the start tomorrow night, I’m going to be married off to a stranger by the end of next week.”

His voice barely above a whisper, he said, “I’m going to be dead by the end of the night.”

Chills raced over her. “You can’t say something like that, then not explain. Aren’t we friends?”

“So many things I’ve wanted to do,” Cas said, his eyes distant. “So many things I’ve never even begun.”

She’d felt the exact same way in that field of poppies.

He finally faced her. “Remember when we were going to travel the rest of the worlds? See every single demonic plane in the Lore?”

“We can still do that.”

“No, Tina.” He ran a palm down the leg of his black pants. “I’ve broken one of their laws. They will send him. Straight from the Realm of Blood and Mist.”

“Who?” Bettina demanded. She’d never heard of this realm. “Who do you think will hurt you?”

Who could? Caspion was an adult demon male, now fully immortal. He was also a talented swordsman. She’d watched him train for countless hours. Even now his ever-present sword glinted proudly from the sheath at his side.

So why was his expression one of obvious dread? She’d never seen the stalwart Cas like this.

He suddenly looked his age: a young twenty-five. “They have a secret kingdom, hidden from the Lore. . . .”

Oh, yes, he was on the verge of telling all. “Go on, darling.”

“Their people rarely leave—and then only in a cloaking mist that makes them invisible. Though most ‘otherlanders’ are forbidden within, I had a powerful friend, a sponsor of sorts, so I was allowed inside.” He paused for a long drink. “But once an otherlander enters, he can’t ever leave—except upon pain of death. Yet I did. I couldn’t stay in that place any longer, one just as primitive as Abaddon. Here, at least I’m free to roam where I will! And my sponsor . . . he changed. Drastically. So I escaped, never thinking their killer could find me on our plane, but I sense him. Already I sense him in Abaddon.”

“Tell me who is looking for you!”

Staring past her, he muttered, “The Prince of Shadow. The most soulless bastard I’ve ever met. He comes in the mist, an assassin without equal. To be targeted by him is to be as good as dead.”

“No! We’ll fight this male. I’ll sic the entire army on him, place a bounty on his head! What type of Lorean is he?”

“The kind our army can’t fight. Ah, Tina, I shouldn’t have left here, should never have gone there to begin with! I was just so godsdamned frustrated, after failing over and over. . . . Now the last thing I’ll see is a crescent moon.”

“My darling, you’re not making any sense,” she said, desperate to stop this assassin. She would gut any foe of his with her new blade—the secret one she’d designed to slip into her gold collar. “Let me repay all your kindness to me, Cas. I can help you now.”

“Without your power?”

How matter-of-factly he spoke about that, while she suffered chills. “Then Salem can help.” Salem, her new “servant.”

Once a phantom warrior, able to solidify his body at will, he’d been cursed to be a sylph—an invisible spirit, an air elemental. He could possess just about anything—a raven, a pillow, a clock. She would order him to keep an eye out for this mysterious assassin.

Instead of always spying on me. Did Morgana and Raum actually expect her to believe that Salem was a mere domestic? She’d barely shooed the sylph out of her rooms before Cas had arrived tonight. “Salem’s telekinesis is surprisingly powerful—”

“No one can help me.” Cas stood unsteadily, unfolding his tall form. “I must go, meet with some friends. Settle my accounts. Tell no one of this, Tina, or you betray my trust.”

Shooting to her feet, she cried, “Please don’t leave.” He could be going to his death!

“My cards have been dealt. At least no one can say I didn’t pay what I owed.” He gave a bitter laugh, as if at an inside joke.

She grabbed his brawny arm. “Then return here tonight.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

“No, not maybe.” Recalling his many conquests and his love of females, she glanced up at him from under her lashes, licking her lips. “Come back to me, and I’ll welcome you with open arms, Caspion.”

He groaned. “You’re still a virgin, and the future queen of Abaddon. I’d have to wed you to bed you.”

“Okay! You’d make an incredible king.”

“Really? The Abaddonae welcoming the guttersnipe orphan as ruler?”

Some of the old guard Deathly Ones held him in low esteem because he’d been a foundling with no land or family name, but . . . “You’ve been making such strides, Cas.”

She alone knew how much he yearned for acceptance. Though he reveled hard—he worked harder, accumulating wealth with each bounty.

He gave her a sad smile. “You know I can’t have you.”

For half a decade, she’d assured herself that he hesitated because of the difference in their stations. All she had to do was help him see his own worth.

Or maybe he simply needed to sow his wild oats before settling down.

After all, who could possibly adore him more than she did? Though he must have guessed her feelings long before now, she finally confessed to his face, “But I . . . I love you, Cas.”

He chucked her under her chin. “I love you too.”

“Don’t be obtuse.” She laid one hand on his muscular chest. “I am in love with you. I want you above all others.” She’d tried to forget him—her stint offplane hadn’t been only for school—but Caspion remained firmly in her heart.

“You only feel this way because of what awaits you tomorrow,” he said. “You’re desperate for an escape. I understand why you’re doing this, but you aren’t my mate.”

“You can’t know that for certain, not until you ‘attempt’ me. In the throes, you know; isn’t that what you demon males say?”

He gripped her hand, pulling it off his chest. “You shouldn’t be musing about such things, Bettina!”

Sometimes Cas could be as medieval in his thinking as the rest of the denizens of this plane. He might admit his conquests to her—but he withheld all details. “I’m not a child. I know simple biology.”

A male death demon—like the males of many demon species—couldn’t produce semen unless he was with his mate. He could enjoy sex up until then, could attempt a bevy of females and take release in a way, but the pleasure paled in comparison to what could be found with his fated one.

“Take me, Cas, and let’s find out once and for all.”

“If you’re not mine, I’d still be honor-bound to wed you. Would you deprive me of my future mate? I’d grow to hate you.” He pinched his forehead. “Ah, none of this matters anyway! I am done. I brought their killer down on my head.”

“Whose killer? If you tell me, we can figure out a way to defeat him, or hide you.