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“He wants a title in the Camdarian court.”
“Oh, is that all?” How utterly uninspired.
“He wants your word on it before he tells us anything.”
“There’s the catch. Can’t say I’m surprised.” I began to pace. Vampires were nonexistent in the Camdarian court. While most of the tension between wolf shifters and their kind had long since faded, there were still certain… lingering tensions that made both groups avoid each other outside the military. We would fight side by side in battle, but that was quite a different thing than trying to manipulate politics in overly formal parties.
“Do you think that’s even possible, sir?”
“I’m fairly certain I can manage it. It might take a lot more wheelin’ and dealin’ than I’d like, but it should be worth it.”
I was fully aware it was a gamble. The info this Tomas character had could be completely useless, but I couldn’t risk losing possible information on the Shrouded Shriek if it could help us free my mate.
Even if hunting him down and meting out justice didn’t cause Ayla’s curse to break, we would still be ridding the world of a horrible monster that fed on hurting innocents, on fear, on violence, death, and chaos.
“So, what do you want us to say to Tomas? He’s not going to believe us without some official seal,” Darla said. She always knew when to be serious and when it was fine to be flippant.
“Tell him we need to establish a way for him to feel secure in our deal without us having to meet.”
“Are you certain, sir? That will make things much more complicated, won’t it? It’s not like there’s the biggest trust relationship between vampires in Camdaria and shifters,” Oren said.
“I know sneaking in and out of the palace will raise too much suspicion, especially with my mother paying so much attention to my injury, so if he wants his position in the court, he needs to find a way to work around that.”
“Yeah, I can deliver that message in a more… diplomatic way.” Darla looked over at Oren. “You should wear something low cut.”
Oren said nothing for a moment, as if he didn’t hear her at all, but I knew the moment his brain processed what she said.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Darla was all smiles again, back to her charming, beguiling self. She and Ayla really were such opposites, but they complimented each other so well. “Aw, come off it. You know exactly what I mean.”
But Oren just blinked at her. “I… no, I don’t think I do.”
The psychic gave him a hard look for a moment before breaking into laughter. “Oren, my dear, sweet Oren. Did you not see how he was staring at your neck? Or how he almost blushed when you drank out of our canteen? He’s undead. His cheeks can’t turn red.”
“W-w-what? That didn’t happen!”
I had to admit, it was downright entertaining to see Oren sputter and feel his pheromones spike when Darla recounted the besotted vampire’s actions to him. She wasn’t a shifter, but I got the feeling she was going to eat him up regardless.
“Mmhmm, sure it didn’t. Anyway, Captain, that’s it on my part.”
“Unfortunately, I have bad news,” Oren said without even so much as a pause. Someone was eager to hurry past the idea of a vampire having a crush on him. “While Darla was mind hopping, I did take a quick run toward Yvonne’s. I found her abode empty with no sign of her or her siren lover. Their scents had been completely eradicated from the place.”
That really wasn’t good. “Were there signs of a break in? A struggle?”
“No, sir, nothing like that. It was if they’d just up and left months ago instead of being there a few days back.”
My pacing picked up a little. I knew an enchantress suddenly deciding to take her love on a trip wasn’t exactly unheard of, but the scent thing was too significant to ignore. That meant their absence was purposeful. They didn’t want any of the guards, staff, or the royal shifter family to easily track them.
“Darla, any chance you can add that onto things you look for when you’re on recon?” I asked.
“Sir, yes, sir. I’ll add it to my list.”
I tried not to react outwardly, but my stomach was twisting, and my pheromones were absolutely spiking. I only had to hope that Yvonne was doing something spontaneous, even romantic, and some terrible fate hadn’t befallen her.
What were we supposed to do about Ayla’s curse? Although I hadn’t had Yvonne’s protective wards for long, I’d rapidly become spoiled by being able to touch Ayla, to hold her, to kiss her, without worrying about any curse-related repercussions. I didn’t want to go back to her fear-filled eyes every time I showed affection, or intense guilt if I got so much as a paper cut.
Hopefully, the enchantress would return before things grew too dire.
