Page 4 of A Hunt Bound in Blood
The dragon shifter wrinkled his nose, his gold-flecked brown eyes narrowing. “A week trapped in a room with you, poring over books and maps? I’ll stick with the gold you collect for me, thank you very much.”
I flashed him a smile and continued down the gallery towards my office door. Along the way, we passed a fraction of the pieces I’d found over the years—the ones with stories worth more than the gold Syrus loved to hoard: a cameo brooch lined with sapphires and showcasing the bust of a woman with a defined, noble profile; a tiara spattered with glittering diamonds across a delicate gold setting; a sword etched with the face of the sword-wielder’s lover in the ivory hilt.
Each find had been an adventure, worth it for the exhilaration of the journey alone. But each one was also proof to myself that I could find a place in this world, far from my home and the life I’d known growing up.
Not that I’d succeeded. I’d lived in Golthwaine for ten years and still wasn’t comfortable here. Although demons weren’t outlawed the way vampires were, I hadn’t been welcomed with open arms, either. Perhaps understandably given my nature and emotional diet, but being surrounded by fear didn’t make one feel inclined to put down roots—not only because I wasn’t sure if one day someone would poison my food, but also because fear tasted terrible. It left a bitter film on my palate that made starvation preferable.
After my first year in this human-infested country, I’d believed death would have been a kinder sentence over exile. The people here could be divided into two generalized groups: The first group was desperate for any excuse to give in to their baser desires, something I’d taken advantage of during my first few months, before I’d become bored with the routine. The second group was made of hypocrites—people who claimed to work for the good of their community while simultaneously carrying out every depraved vice they could think of. The first were pathetic; the second more demonic than many demons I knew.
Eventually, I’d grown sick of the lot of them, had moved out of my city home, and built my estate in the country with the funds I’d earned from my early hunts. Even then, my impatience with Golthwaine was why I travelled so often, exploring the wilds of this vast, admittedly beautiful country, rather than remaining here at my estate for too long at a time.
Sy had asked me often why I didn’t move elsewhere, but the answer lay just across the Never Sea: my homeland, Karhasan, and my dream that one day I’d be able to return.
Until then, I’d let Sy deal with investing my income into an obscene pile of gold while I enjoyed myself seeking hidden treasure and travelling the world.
After I took a break.
“If you’re serious about me taking this job on my own, I might just,” Sy said as we reached my office.
My gaze brushed over the painting on the wall outside the doors, the two lovers entwined in a sensual embrace, and as it always did at the sight, my heart lurched. I didn’t dwell on my reaction, focusing my attention on my friend. “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I encourage it. It’s been a while since you went out and had some fun.”
He grinned. “Not that long. But good. As long as I won’t have to listen to you whining for the next five years when I get all the credit for finding it.”
I raised an eyebrow and pushed open my office doors, revealing the myriad treasures within.
Sy rolled his eyes at the unspoken brag. “Yes, yes, you are the undefeated master. I yield, I yield. But I was also right, and you owe me a hundred gold.”
When I shot him a silent question, he kicked his head towards the pack in the corner, already set for my next venture.
“All right, you smug-faced ass, you’ve made your point.”
I rounded my desk and frowned at a letter that hadn’t been here when I’d left to meet Sy this morning. It was stamped with King Evaniel’s seal, which wasn’t something I often found around my personal effects. I didn’t recognize him as my sovereign, both of us considering me little more than a guest in his home.
“Mrs. Taylor?” I called.
My housekeeper arrived with her usual promptness. Her tidy blue dress was covered with a cream-hued smock, and her grey hair was pinned up out of her face. She had to be in her early sixties, a widow with no children. She’d applied for the position when I’d first installed myself in the estate nine years ago, and almost immediately, she’d adopted me as a sort of son, which I found more than a little endearing. When Sy had returned home with me after one of my hunts, she’d absorbed him into her family as well. The only reason I was able to travel so often was because of her quiet competence in keeping everything at home running.
“Yes, Master Cammon?”
I held up the letter.
“Yes, sir. That arrived shortly after you left. The palace messenger hinted that it was urgent.”
“Of course they did. Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.”
“Shall I see to your lunch?”
I glanced at the clock standing against the wall and saw it was later in the day than I’d realized. “Yes, please.”
“You too, Master Syrus?”
He grinned at her with his usual charm. “Always, Mrs. Taylor. You know you’re the only person who keeps me well fed. Without you, I’d have wasted away to nothing as soon as I left the peaks.”
She waved him off with a smile and left us.
“I hope you keep her forever,” Sy said after the doors closed.
I chuckled and slid my finger under the king’s seal. “When I return to Karhasan, I will give you first option at convincing her to switch her loyalties.” A dart of pain made me hiss as the parchment sliced through the pad of my thumb. I sucked my finger to clean off the blood and noticed the silence that met my response. Looking up, I found Sy staring at me. “What? You know she likes me more.”