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Sounding resigned, the demon said, “She’s not a child. There’s nothing we can or should do. Except for one point. The sorcerer just said he’d build her a castlein this realm, which is?—”

“—not fucking happening,” Mirceo finished for him.

These two hadn’t yet been a couple when they’d captured him. Now they appeared bonded for eternity. “The Gaolers won’t give up,” Adham said. “They’ll find another jail and come for me again. And possibly Kosmina as well, now that she’s escaped.”

“She no longer has the plague,” Caspion said. “She’ll be fine. And we can protect her in Dacia.”

“Adham and I will live here in Poly,” she said. “We’d already planned to.”

“Sister, no. This place is unequaled desolation.”

“Which is what I would suffer without him. Would you rather live with your new mate in Poly or live without him?”

“That sorcerer isnotyour mate. How can I convince you?”

“You can’t. But I can convince you, quelling this topic forever . . .” Kosmina grew hazy, forming a mist—and she enveloped Adham in it as well. Their skin grew indistinct, their outlines glittering like sun-struck quartz. She told Adham, “I can share it with you because we’re connected by fate.”

He marveled from within her bank of vapor. “We’re truly like air. I scarcely believed it earlier. You’re a vampire of many talents. And suddenly I understand how those two breached my stronghold.”

“Weakhold.” Kosmina grinned up at him, her oasis gaze merry. “Our new castle had better be an improvement.”

“Oh, it will be. Can they hear or see us?”

“Not unless they enter our mist.”

He drew her close. “How long I’ve searched for you—even when I didn’t know what I was looking for.” He pressed his lips to hers in promise. The kiss intensified, the fuse about to light . . .

When he reluctantly pulled back—her brother stood feet away and was still fuming—her expression was soft. She understood the pledge in his kiss.

Solidifying them once more, Kosmina told Mirceo, “You know I couldn’t include a non-Dacian in my mist unless I was connected to him by fate. He’s mine.”

Caspion shrugged. “You can’t argue with mist. Welcome to the family, sorcerer.” He elbowed Mirceo.

“Not so fast!” The vampire paced in tight circuits. “Even if I can somehow accept this sorcerer with my sister, I can’t accept Poly’s time differential. If we trace from Dacia here twice a day, she’d still go decades without seeing us.” He told Kosmina, “Should you two—I can’t believe I’m about to say this—have children, Cas and I won’t know them until they’re grown. Our family would be torn apart.”

Kosmina softly admitted, “Mirceo’s right. It wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Adham told her, “I’ll live in Dacia. For myself, I’d do this without a second thought.” But for her . . . she’d once confided that she’d been slowly dying down there.

“I don’t want to live in Dacia, but I can’t go without seeing my family either.” She was now faced with two unacceptable options: reside in a place she’d yearned to leave or miss her loved ones. Then her eyes widened. “There is another place. Would you take me to Sorselan?”

Mirceo: “Source what?”

Caspion muttered, “It’s the Sorceri origin realm. Abandoned now. You should know it’s a desert realm.”

Mirceo halted his pacing. “A desert? We arevampires. Nothing is more horrifying than a blank canvas beneath ablazing sun.” He shuddered. “We like dark. And cold. And underground. For a reason!”

The corners of her lips curved as she gazed at Adham. “I’ve heard the moon over the dunes is wondrous. And I do have my mist for the daytime.”

Adham’s heart pounded. Could he be hearing her right? “I’ll take you anywhere, but are you sure?” Excitement hummed inside him at the thought of starting a life with her there. He could already imagine the castle he would build her—and the site.

“I’m positive. But would the memories be too much?” She frowned. “You might not want to return?—”

He waved his hand and shaved flat a nearby dune, smoothed as if with a razor. “We’ll wipe that slate clean and make new memories.”

Her expression grew elated. “Then it’s settled.”

“Tell us about security,” Caspion said with typical hunter pragmatism. “Assume the Gaolers keep coming.”