Page 23 of The Vampire King's Gift

Caemorn observed all of this silently. His black and crimson cloak stirred in the wind. His head cocked to the side as Julian took Daemon up on his suggestion to dress first. He realized from a stray thought that Caemorn fully expected Julian to beservingDaemon first and in all things. Caemorn tensed as he expected Julian to be disciplinedharshlyfor not doing so. Daemon’s lips flattened. Yet another Master who thought their fledgling a slave and not a treasure.

Hopping up and down to pull up his jeans on wet skin, Julian paused as he took in this information from Daemon’s mind. He looked up at Daemon’s face. The Vampire King thought now that it would have been better if he’d not passed this along. If Caemorn had killed Julian’s parents, there would be a reckoning. He did not want his fledgling to be conflicted in any way about it.

After tugging on his shirt, Julian came over with Daemon’s clothes, but he only shrugged the long wolf coat around his shoulders. Julian carefully folded the rest of his things and placed the pile on top of his boots. Now, attired, the two of them regarded their three visitors. Julian took in the elegant armor, the pale hair and silver eyes. He was impressive, handsome, with a cold, aristocratic look to him.

Ask him why he is here, Julian, please, Daemon requested.

“King Daemon wishes to know why you are here,” Julian said. His voice was strong. He stared hard at Caemorn.

“Can he not…” Caemorn’s cultured voice was lifted in confusion.

“Speak? Oh, he can, but why should he do that for you?” Julian’s voice was firm. His emotions were roiling again.

What if he killed my parents?Julian was thinking. Did he care? Did he think that they were people or just humans that had gotten into the way? Why didn’t he kill me? Why--

Daemon caressed Julian’s cheek with his fingers, stopping the whirl of emotion.

“I am here because I heard that a Vampire calling himself Daemon had emerged on Earth,” Caemorn began archly.

“Calling himself?” Julian’s lips curled into an angry smile. “If I had a dollar for every Vampire seeking to harm Daemon who has said that… you allknowhe’s the king!” Julian thrust a finger at Daemon’s chest. “I haven’t been a Vampire for long, but it is so damned obvious that he’s not like us. Look at him and tell me you honestly think he’s some con artist!”

Caemorn regarded Julian with an arched eyebrow. “You speak so freely in front of your superior?”

That was like a red flag to a bull. Julianreallydidn’t respect unearned authority. Daemon couldn’t help the flash of pride at his fledgling’s fierceness and nobility.

“You are not my superior,” Julian’s voice was low and his eyes were narrowed. They were blood red like Daemon’s at that moment. “Evenifyou hadn’t killed my parents, I am the fledgling of theking. I am second to none but him.”

Caemorn rocked back slightly, but it was the first reason and not the second that had a spike of guilt--definitely guilt, oh no--flashed through Caemorn’s mind. He should have known that Julian’s feelings would bubble up in speaking when his temper was up. Julian saw the reaction, too. He read the look, if not the Preceptor’s mind.

“You did it,” Julian’s voice was soft, almost disbelieving. “You killed my parents.”

“I did not kill you,” Caemorn murmured.

And then Daemon saw the future. It was so crisp and real that it felt like it had happened as he was seeing it. Julian would lunge for Caemorn’s throat, screaming about his parents. His eyes would burn crimson. Caemorn would reach for Borage, but Daemon would snatch it away from him and impale both werewolves.

Julian would have the Preceptor on the ground. Caemorn would rake his fingernails down Julian’s face. Those beautiful features would be marred terribly. Blood would rain down his cheeks and drip off of his chin. But the pain and blindness wouldn’t stop Julian from continuing to attack.

But it would give Caemorn the time to release several colored glass balls from his cloak. The spirits of the dead would slam into Julian’s chest and his fledgling would go gray at their touch. Daemon would whisper and the spirits would cease their attack, but because of Caemorn’s strength and Daemon’s current weakness was such that Daemon would not be able to command them further.

Julian would jump on Caemorn again. The Preceptor would let out a howl that called every dying spirit to him from the city. They would look like an aurora borealis over the city for a moment before all of that power came into Caemorn and he would use that to drain all of Julian’s strength from him.

Until Daemon put himself between himself and this powerful Vampire. He would feel the pull on his strength as well. But he would end that by simply ripping Caemorn’s throat open with his teeth and drinking it down. He would thrust his hand into Caemorn’s chest and rip out his heart. He would turn and hold out the still beating heart to Julian.

And Julian would take it.

The moment his fledgling took that heart and bit into it, a terrible confluence of events would start. He would rule again, but it would be through sword and fire and ruin. His fledgling would agonize over what eating a heart had made of him. He would never truly be open to the joys of being a Vampire again. His soul would be stained.

Daemon would not have that.

So the moment that Julian was about to lunge he stepped between him and Caemorn, placing the palm of one hand on Julian's chest. His fledgling let out a cry of frustration.

“No! Let me–he killed them! He killed them!” The raw agony in Julian’s voice would never leave him at that moment.

“I know,” Daemon spoke aloud for the first time. “Draw Borage or call your werewolves or summon a spirit, and your Second Life isover, Caemorn.”

He said the last without so much as turning his head. The Preceptor stopped moving.

“He killed them, Daemon!” Julian wailed.

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