Page 26 of Bleeding for the Prince
Hyax didn’t think that was a clever thing to do, and Dorian was playing with fire in a way that not even being a dragon would help him. “Does he have a death wish? I mean, if you go scorched earth on him, he’s toast.”
“I don’t think Dorian is aware of the nature of the bond we share. Like most people, he thinks I’m Robin’s current infatuation, and whatever hold I have over him will wane sooner or later and Robin will take a lover on the side. He’s skirting the line of propriety and making sure Robin doesn’t forget what he could have when he decides he is ready to do so.”
“You said you weren’t able to trace Dorian. How do you know when Dorian’s with Robin?”
“Through our bond. I’m pretty sure Robin doesn’t realise it, but he sends out a little pulse of anxiety whenever Dorian shows up and starts forgetting his place.”
He’d not heard of bond mates communicating in such a way. “That’s a useful side addition. Do you do it the other way?”
“Probably, I don’t know if I am doing it, so it would make it difficult to block, and I’ve nothing to be anxious about. I’ve not got Robin’s past, and he was a bit of a hypocrite regarding the one small experience I’d had before him.”
Hyax had been alive for several centuries and wouldn’t have been able to put a number to the number of partners he’d had, but Simon was much younger and, by the sound of it, had been pretty much untouched before Robin had got his hands on him.
“Did he turn up here thinking you might want to expand your experience because you’re pissed off over the Dorian situation?”
“Possibly, he’s not one to admit he’s wrong, so I must’ve rattled him a bit. It wasn’t my intention to; I don’t play games, and I wouldn’t have put you in the middle either. Sorry about that.”
Hyax nudged him with his elbow and grinned. “I’ve no problem helping you rattle Robin’s cage. He knew he was being a twatwaffle.”
“Twatwaffle?”
He laughed. “Sorry, some of Gwil’s slang has rubbed off on me.”
Simon snorted. “I bet that’s not the only thing.”
“Cheeky bastard!”
They clinked glasses, and a brain itch hit him about something Simon had said about dragons and them not being able to be tracked. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he would add the topic to his research.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gwil poked the sleeping hamster. It didn’t look particularly vicious. He turned to his client, a whisp of a woman, but then she’d been a ghost for at least twenty years, so he shouldn’t expect her to be solid. “Are you sure it’s possessed? I’m not getting the usual vibes and demons don’t tend to go for members of the rodent family. Bit too small to be worth the bother.”
“I’m telling you, less than an hour ago, Mr Cuddle was levitating, his head rotated, and he projectile vomited his hamster chow.”
Mr Cuddle’s nose twitched as he slept. “I’ll take some samples and get them sent to a lab I use, but as far as I can tell, he’s just a hamster.”
He’d be having words with Hyax when he got home. The git had forgotten he was supposed to come with him and had sodded off with Prince Simon to some poncy place in Kensington. He wasn’t mad that he’d gone out without him, more that he’d been left to deal with a ghost who had Rosemary’s Hamster as a pet.
“Maybe whatever possessed Mr Cuddle has moved on.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “He’s so precious.”
In his experience, his clients who called about their pets had a blind spot larger than an Ikea lorry and tended to think more of their animals than most people. He had Midnight, loved the furry little sod, but knew that she was a grumpy, shit-producing arsehole at times, but the likes of Miss Wainley and her devotion to Mr Cuddle meant she only ever saw him as a tiny creature who could do no harm.
He gathered up a few bits of bedding and a tuft of hair, but refused the bag of hamster vomit she’d kept in case it was needed. Having been warned of potential demonic possession, he had a couple of sachets of salt with him that had been blessed by a priest. “I’m gonna put a salt circle around the cage, it’s a precaution, don’t let Mr Cuddle eat it. I’ll call you if anything comes from the tests, and you let me know if anything strange happens.”
Miss Wainley escorted him out. He headed to the nearest tube station. Someone appeared at his side. He almost tripped over his feet when he recognised them. “Solivatus?”
He’d gone decades between seeing his sire, so having been in touch a few months back, he reckoned he wouldn’t hear from him for years. He was wearing one of his signature three-piece suits and his grey hair pulled into a low ponytail.
“You have a minute or two for me?”
He didn’t have anywhere else he needed to be, and vampires didn’t tend to say no to their sires. “Sure. Why not?”
“Excellent, there’s a pub around the corner that caters to those who like to dabble with the more exotic blood types. But I’m not touching that shite, and we should be able to get something that won’t dissolve our livers.”
He fell into step. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I know you didn’t expect to hear from me in a while, or at least your sparkly boyfriend wished that, but I’m afraid nowyou’re on the edge of being important, I wanted to keep in touch.”
