Page 24 of The Vampire King's Gift

And Daemon enfolded Julian in his arms, holding that shaking lithe body that was wracked with sobs of rage and grief so deep that it came from his soul. “I know, my beloved, my one, but this is not the way.”

“Why? You would have killed him for far cheaper reasons!” Julian raged. His fingers dug into Daemon’s back as if he were holding himself back by holding onto the Vampire King.

“Yes, I would have no qualms, but you would. You… would.” Daemon’s voice dropped off.

Julian stiffened then, and before Daemon could stop him, Julian caught hold of the vision Daemon had experienced. He gasped as he got to the end and pulled back, ashen-faced, and horror-stricken. Daemon caressed his face, cupping it tenderly.

“It’s not the way,” Daemon said.

“N-no, but…” Bright tears filled Julian’s eyes. The red faded to purple and those tears fell down his cheeks. “He killed them. My parents. They were… they didn’t deserve that! They were--”

“I had no choice,” Caemorn interrupted.

“If you value your throat, be silent,” Daemon murmured.

“But you must understand why I am here! I have been misled and--”

Daemon whirled around and with a crook of his fingers, Caemorn was lifted from the sand. The Vampire King levitated the stunned Kaly Vampire to within a foot of him and then tilted Caemorn’s head so that only six inches separated their faces. Caemorn opened his mouth to shout for his werewolves to assist him but Daemon sent a compulsion to stop his lips from moving. Caemorn’s silver eyes bulged. He stiffened even more as Daemon reached over his shoulder. He expected an attack, but Daemon simply unsheathed the spear Borage.

“I forged this. The tip burns blue-white as you near your enemies,” Daemon explained to Julian as he showed him the spear.

He spun it easily. The metal flowed easily over his palm and then the back of his hand. It was perfectly balanced. He switched it from hand to hand. He spun it so fast that it became a blur. Julian’s tears dried and awe filled his face.

“You forged weapons?” Julian boggled.

“Magicalweapons,” Daemon clarified.

“You were the one who forged Borage? What about the other weapons in Solace’s spire?” These words were allowed to escape as they did not seek to cause violence. Caemorn was such a fan of these weapons that he seemed to have forgotten he was being levitated.

“Yes, I forged many weapons in my time,” Daemon answered curly.

“Why do they kill Vampires then? Just simply picking some of the weapons up causes them to give a Vampire their Second Death!” Caemorn cried.

Daemon caught the spinning spear and stuck the tip of it half an inch from one of those silver eyes. “Because they arenotfor use by those Vampires.”

“Borage did not kill me,” Caemorn sounded half-proud.

“You think that makes youworthysomehow?” Daemon sneered.

And, for a moment, Daemon saw within Caemorn the young Vampire, eagerly reading tales about him, imagining what it would be like to have the Vampire King as his Master and not the slender man-boy. The beautiful vampiric child that was his Master, but who was crueler and colder than anyone that even the Kaly Vampire had known.

Caemorn’s Master had never nurtured him unless it was to make him do what his Master wanted. There was no tenderness. There was no care. There was certainly no treasuring. But whenever things got bad for Caemorn, he thought ofDaemon. The Vampire King who had urged the Vampires to victory against their immortal oppressors. He thought of Daemon when he was alone, when he had an impossible task before him, when there was no one he could trust.

Do not put your dreams on me, Daemon thought.

What?Julian turned to look at him, overhearing the words.

Nothing, my one. You needn’t worry. Just something unrelated to you.

If you’re sure.Julian’s brow was furrowed.

I am certain, my one.

“I have done what few have done before me,” Caemorn told him with that arrogant tilt of his head, even when he knew who Daemon really was and wanted his favor. But he couldn’t help himself.

Self-defense mechanism.

The tip of Borage drifted closer.

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