Dear gods, Mirceo had sensed his beloved sister was in danger!
Cas traced back to the bar. Holding up the poster, he demanded, “How did this get here?”
Leyak shook his head. “Came in through the usual channels.”
I’ve got to get to Dacia. To Mirceo. His eyes narrowed. For a male who revered choice, Cas had only one option.
THIRTY-THREE
The Dacianos—Viktor, Stelian, Trehan, and Mirceo—were back in the court, awaiting the king and queen, and a lead that might help them find Mina. Days had passed without a sign of her. Even Balery couldn’t get a read on her.
“You need to drink, nephew.” Viktor sat on the edge of the throne dais, using a blade to clean his claws. “Or you’ll never heal.”
Mirceo limped as he paced back and forth across the court. He hadn’t had a drop of blood since learning of Mina’s disappearance. No intake meant Mirceo was slow to regenerate from Lothaire’s beating the other day.
After Mirceo had demanded to know what the king had done, Lothaire had steepled his fingers, his black claws glinting. His deep voice had resonated as he’d said, “I sent Kosmina out into the world.” He’d shrugged. “And damn if I haven’t misplaced her.”
Consumed with wrath, Mirceo had attacked the ancient vampire. Half-feral Lothaire had relished the opportunity to thrash someone, laughing as he’d broken Mirceo’s bones.
It’d taken all of the Dacianos to pry Lothaire off of him. Mirceo’s jaw had been so mangled he hadn’t been able to tell anyone about his skirmish with the Forbearers, instead having to write out his suspicion: Forbearers took her. Exchange for Kristoff.
Lothaire had led the Dacianos in an incursion on that order’s castle. Yet there’d been no sign of Mina. Fortunately Lothaire had an asset, a prisoner they could torture for information. Today they were supposed to learn the findings. . . .
Stelian swigged from his flask. “What is taking the red-eyed bastard so long?”
Though Mirceo wanted to murder Lothaire for sending Mina out, he berated himself just as much for not being here for her. He’d planned to talked to the king about keeping Mina close, but Mirceo had gotten so caught up in his own life that he’d let her down.
He’d lost the only things in his life that mattered, and in both instances, he’d deserved to.
Trehan checked his watch. “I’m due in Abaddon to meet Bettina. I must leave anon.” He frowned at Mirceo’s mottled face. “None of this need ever have happened.”
Mirceo had been forced to come clean about the priceless crystal’s end, and since he’d been viciously beaten, brain-bruised, and unable to lie, he’d unintentionally implicated Caspion.
“I could kill that demon for destroying the crystal,” Trehan said, his piercing green eyes flickering black. “If not for him, Mina would be safe at home right now.”
Mirceo didn’t hate Caspion over the crystal, because he blamed himself for that as well. He’d pursued his mate so aggressively that the demon had snapped.
And for what?
Mirceo wished he could tell Caspion that his morning-after panic had had nothing to do with their relationship and everything to do with Mina. He was convinced his arm pained him because she had been likewise injured.
When he’d explained his confounding reaction to his uncles, Trehan had said, “The night my Bride was attacked by Vrekeners, I woke from a dead sleep, feeling as if I’d left something undone.” Mirceo had felt like a secret danced just out of reach. “That sense was maddening, because I’d always done what was expected of me. Always. Soon it grew into abject dread. I later realized that we Dacians have vaster abilities than even we know. . . .”
Damn it, how much longer would Lothaire be?
Reaching into his pocket, Mirceo ran his fingertips over Mina’s last letter to him, one that’d gone unnoticed on his desk until after he’d discovered her missing.
He’d long since memorized the words, the parchment stained from his blood tears:
My dear Mirceo,
I have such exciting news! I’m being sent out into the world, as an official observer for King Lothaire. I know you expressed concerns, but I dare not disobey an order from our regent!
I am beside myself with anticipation, and can’t wait to behold the otherlanders’ world—the splendor of its natural beauty and the nobility of its peoples.
Brother, my heart soars.
Please don’t worry about me as I set off on my mission. Such a request should prove next to impossible for my protective big brother, but try.
Your little sister is actually quite capable.
I have you to thank for that, for everything. Whatever would I do without my Mirceo?