Morpheus’s nostrils flare on a deep inhale. His eyes don’t stray from me as he answers. “Your Aunt Hildie. She was in here the other night, drunk on dragon fruit martinis. I overheard her tell that ancient friend of hers?—”
“Hazel?”
“The one with the hearing aid. I assure you, every vampire in the building heard the news.”
“Oh fuck.” Maeve’s curved fingers come to rest against her temple.
“What?” My gaze darts between her and Morpheus, my stomach contracting like it knows something I don’t. “Why are you saying fuck? Vampires wouldn’t want Damien, right? What would they gain, taking him from me? It has to be a family of witches, doesn’t it?”
Morpheus’s nostrils flare again. In the time it takes a chill to travel the length of my spine, he’s standing beside me, the tip of his nose mere centimeters from my carotid. “You are his mate.” Not a question. Out of the corner of my eye, all I see is fang.
“Yes.” My voice is breathless from fear.
“Oh fuck, indeed,” he drawls.
I shiver at the way he’s looking at me.
“Morpheus,” Maeve says, the name holding a note of warning.
“Relax, Gowdie. I’m not crazy enough to lay a hand on another shade’s mate.” We both stare at him unblinkingly as he returns to his chair, his gait as steady and smooth as a flowing river. “I normally do not feel obligated to alleviate someone of their ignorance, but you are right about one thing—Damien and I have a history. You are correct, Ms. Harcourt, that I owe him for what he did the night we came through the rift. Even beyond that, it is a grave sin against our gods to separate mates. So let me fill you both in on circumstances that normally do not concern your kind. The vampire queen of Night Haven is in need of a consort, and she’s had her eye on Damien for years.”
“Night Haven.” I remember Maeve and Damien using the name of the place, but I otherwise know nothing about it. I certainly don’t remember Damien ever mentioning a vampire queen.
“That’s the subterranean city where the vampire covens of this area reside. Damien is a citizen,” Morpheus explains.
“Oh?”
“Damien never took the queen’s advances seriously because he was bound by the Gowdie curse. The queen would never take a consort charmed to obey a witch’s orders over her own. But if she knew his curse was broken, she’d want him for herself. As Ms. Gowdie can confirm, a shade is a very powerful weapon to have at your command.”
I rub my palms on my thighs. “You’re saying this vampire queen took him? But I thought the spell had to be performed by witches?”
Morpheus scoffs. “I don’t think she took him, Ms. Harcourt. I know. Everyone knows. The queen wanted him, and she has him. How she managed it, I haven’t a clue. But she has him. Only, she encountered an unexpected complication.”
“He was already mated to Eloise.” Maeve squeezes her eyes closed behind her glasses with a silent wince.
“Already mated,” Morpheus confirms, rubbing his chin.
“If you know where he is, why are we here? Where is Night Haven? Can you get him back?” I look between the two of them, waiting for someone to suggest next steps.
Maeve chews her lip.
“Oh, should you tell her, or can I?” Morpheus deadpans.
“I will.” Maeve turns in her chair to face me. “The queen wants a shade as her consort. She captured Damien. But to force him to be her consort, she first has to gain control of him by forcing him to be her mate. Vampires and shades mate for life. Neither can take more than one mate. The queen was probably shocked as shit to find out Damien’s cherry had already been popped.”
“Okay.” I blink twice. “Then why hasn’t she let him go? He’s useless to her.”
“He’s only useless to her while his mate is still alive.” Maeve says the words slowly, as if she’s speaking to a small child, and I’m thankful for that because my mind does not want to pick up what she’s laying down.
I feel my brows cram together. “She plans to…”
“Kill you,” Maeve fills in. “She needs to kill you in order to force him to be her mate and consort.”
“All right.” I pull myself together. “But if she wants me dead, why hasn’t she come for me yet?”
Morpheus leans forward in his chair, resting his chin in a nest of his fingers. “That’s the delicious part. No one knows who you are, Ms. Harcourt. The queen can smell the mating scent on him, just as I can smell it on you, but Damien has refused so far to give up your name. Just yesterday she offered a reward for any vampire who could unmask your identity.”
A bounty on my head. And now Morpheus knows. Shit. A chill skims along my spine, and I tamp down a growing flare of panic. For a second I just stare at him, swallowing repeatedly while I get ahold of my emotions. A meltdown right now won’t help anyone, especially not Damien. The vampire queen doesn’t know who I am. Damien hasn’t told her. Even Morpheus didn’t know until now. And that’s the only reason I’m still alive.
