Page 55 of Zodiac Demons

Me: Want to meet in the library?

I sent a quick text to Ceto, to Marcus, and to Adrian, all separately and not at all as a group text, and with zero context of any kind to discourage refusal.

I was testing the waters, in a ‘no one can yell at each other in a library’ kind of way, as it was about time we all sat down and sorted out our relationship. Graves Academy offered summer classes, so the library remained open year round, but Ceto focused on his work at Threads of the Magi, Adrian did anything but be near a classroom, and Marcus was mostly taking me on dates and pounding me into a mattress—Errr, I mean ‘trying to help me learn to shift.’

Just kidding, I mean both.

Outside of living in the dorms, I’d hardly been on campus since finals, and neither had anyone else.

But today, I was going to force everyone to get together because I did not know how to keep juggling the confusing mix of guilt and uncertainty that came with having three mates that had never agreed to share one central person, and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just a time bomb in the middle of a crowded room that no one wanted to be in in the first place.

Ceto: Once again, it’s my day off. I’m already in the library.

Okay well, I guess that made life easier. Also, fair. I was specifically texting him because I knew he wasn’t working.

Marcus: The library, huh. I can be there in an hour.

His suspicion was noted, and he likely knew what he was walking into, but that sounded like perfect timing, so I wasn’t going to complain. It gave me a little time to talk to Ceto first, so I could make this a smooth meeting.

I texted back a collective ‘see you there’ as I started toward the library, and I waited for a text back from Adrian as I walked.

After several minutes, I sent an “Are you doing okay?” follow-up message, but still no response.

That was worrying. Maybe he was working out? Or napping? Having lunch? On a date? Driving? There were so many possibilities that didn’t involve him being literally dead, so it was irrational that I was assuming he was, indeed, 99% likely to be dead. But my mate mark would probably disappear if he was, I assumed. Probably? It seemed like it should work that way.

Not knowing how any of this worked was so annoying.

I got to the library, which was empty on a Wednesday in August other than the platinum eyed Basilisk hybrid at a table in the back, sitting with a stack of books about two feet high.

“Reading about flaky buttermilk biscuits again?” I asked with a smile as I sat down beside him.

“The cold butter thing actually works.” He responded so matter-of-factly, it made us both laugh. “But no, nothing that interesting. Just some light reading.” He closed the book in front of him, and I caught the words ‘Blood Curses and Poisons’ briefly before he returned it to the pile face down, pages out, as though he didn’t want me to see it.

“I know this is kind of overdue, but can we talk about the whole mate thing?” I went straight for the kill, because if I’d learned anything in my life here, it was that beating around the bush got me nowhere, and leaving even a vague space for dodging questions got me even less distance. “Like, maybe start with ‘are we okay’?”

“We’re okay.” Ceto exhaled a sigh. “Of every complicated thing in my life, you’re the only thing that isn’t a problem.” Those words made me instantly blush, and I wasn’t prepared for such a sweet sentiment right off the bat. “But I want to come clean about some things that you might not understand or want to hear.” The tension was palpable through our bond, but I knew this was too important to avoid.

“I don’t really understand what it means to be an heir of a founding family, even if I technically am one too, so whatever it is, it’s okay.” I mentally prepared myself for the idea that we might have to break this bond, and he might have to mate with someone else. Or even the idea that he might still be looking for another partner instead of me.

At least I told myself I was prepared for all that. I wasn’t sure if it was true or not in my heart, but I knew it had to be in my head.

“The Basilisk family line has existed for thousands of years, and being the King of Serpents in the supernatural world, it’s a legacy family that values its power and status. My grandmother is the only surviving original Basilisk whose origin dates back to the rise of our species, but my father is the eldest surviving male who can breed new Basilisks.”

“Your grandmother can’t breed new Basilisks?” Not that I’d expect anyone that old to be out there trying to repopulate the world, but this was all complicated, and I figured I may as well learn some lore.

“She can, but you don’t ask Grandmother to do anything Grandmother doesn’t want to do.” He only half laughed. “Not to mention, when female Basilisks mate they… uh…” He crinkled his brow, took a breath, then continued, “They eat the male to feed the offspring in the womb, which also serves to give the new Basilisk a piece of the elder’s power.”

“Thus having no grandfather.” I concluded, and he nodded.

“But males can mate with other species of ancient Egyptian or Greco-Roman lines, like El Naddaha or Asps or Sobeks, and the Basilisk blood will prevail as the dominant species to create another Basilisk. It’s only when we mate with shifters that the complexity of shifter mating and Omega and Alpha and Beta designations overrides a piece of the original demon and creates a hybrid. Shifters are the one species, regardless of order, who can be mixed into a hybrid bloodline with any other species, even dominating something like a Basilisk or a Vampire. It is an unexpectedly versatile class of magic-kind.” He was reciting it all like a text book, when I was waiting for this to get a bit more personal. Though I was sure he wouldn’t be telling me all this if the back story wasn’t relevant.

“So how does being predominantly shifter affect your standing in your family?” I asked the question, because I had a feeling this was the point he’d been dancing around for so long.

“It means that, as one of two surviving children of the current generation, I’m still expected to produce the next generation, so my elders no longer have to carry the torch for keeping our dwindling species alive. Being a powerful bloodline, we’ve also been hunted to near extinction, so now that we’re finally in peace time, it’s all the more important to start rebuilding our numbers.” He cringed as he said it, and a tremor shook his spine from tail to head. “So we’re paired with a matchmaker who will find us appropriate matches that will strengthen the family. My brother is pure blooded, so he has a much stronger obligation than I do, with a far more limited dating pool, but my shifter mother is very adamant that I keep our hybrid line flourishing and honorable, to better cement her place in the family.” He chewed his lip, inhaled, then added, “I wasn’t supposed to mate with someone who was from an infertile bloodline, but perhaps that was why my Gemini was able to justify our pact.”

“Because you don’t want to produce an heir.” I finished the thought for him.

Ceto bit his lower lip for an extended second before he dipped his chin in confirmation. “Both as an Omega and as a Basilisk, that’s an affront to both sides of my species.” He slumped in his chair. “I don’t entirely understand how your existence is possible, but while you’re a prime candidate as a match, being part of another founding family and an ancient, serpentine demon no less, I don’t want to put you through whatever ritual will be forced on someone mated to me.”