Page 8 of Beast

“You say she’s violent?” My brain starts working overtime. Aviolent woman who can serve as a consort. A woman who frightens the gnomes. Awoman who tries to kill the men who touch her. She sounds scary—and a littleperfect.

“That’s what Reeve said,” Beck corrects. “He says she’s outof control. The women can’t get close to her cage.”

The words are music to my ears. “And you’re sure she’s aconsort?”

“Again, according to Reeve, she is. The demon said sheglows. I could tell you if she was a bondmate. Bondmates can usually pass forconsorts, too.” Beck’s voice holds a note of suspicion. “Why? Do you want tocome and help us, then? You could tell just by looking at her.”

Cian stares my way with narrow eyes, but he says nothing.

I shrug. I’ll be able to tell if the woman is a consort byher glow. It appears as a slight halo around the consort’s form. It’s a lovely,infinitely appealing sight to the royal vampire. “Sure, why not?”

It isn’t like I have anything better to do. It won’t hurt togo take a look at her. I get up to follow my cousins out. At the very least,I’ll meet someone who doesn’t know who I am.

It’s late in the afternoon when we make it to themarketplace. I follow behind Beck as he strides toward the biggest of the tentsdotting the marketplace grounds. The door between the Vampire plane and thisplane—a refugee plane—is easily accessible. There are hundreds of ways to getto different planes. Vampire scientists theorize that there are still thousandsof planes yet to be discovered. Many scientists would love to work with thePlaneswalker clans to map out all the different doors. Unfortunately, thePlaneswalkers come from a plane called Hell, and they don’t have a problem witheating scientists.

Reeve of the Gentle Hills has the largest and mostimpressive tent in the marketplace. There is no question the gnome has donewell for himself in the years since the civil war in Tír na nÓg.

Reeve’s tent is at the center of the small village, andeverything built up around it. I like the marketplace. It’s filled with all theweird and wonderful things that can be found across the planes of existence. Ieven like the feel of dirt beneath my feet. The surface on this plane isradically different from my home. It’s closer to Tír na nÓg. This particularplane was deserted when Beck and Cian fled their home. It was used by vampiresas a place to hunt in the old ways and to raise cattle.

There’s no smog here. The sun is bright and the world feelsopen and airy. At home, the surface is tight and confined. Sometimes, the sundoesn’t get past the clouds of pollution that cling close to the surface. It’swhy most vampires who can afford it never leave their high-rise communities.

I adjust the hood of my jacket to better cover my skin. Thesun is stronger on the Faery planes. My sunglasses have already adjusted to thelight. The nanites in my clothing adapt quickly to keep my temperature in anoptimal range and ensure the ultraviolet light doesn’t burn me.

But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to walkunclothed in the sunlight. What would it be like to laze about unencumbered byclothing while the warmth of the sun kisses my skin? I’ll never tell anyone,but that is what attracted me to the sunscreen project. It isn’t the moneywe’ll make. It is the possibility of experiencing something I never havebefore.

“What do you think you’re doing, cos?” Cian asks. He allowedBeck and Meg to get ahead of us.

Ci knows me far too well for comfort. “I wanted to comealong. It might get dangerous. You never know. You and Beck might need backup.”

Cian’s gray eyes roll. “Yes, the warrior king requiresbackup. He’s not only the greatest warrior to rise from the Seelie in athousand years, but he’s a Storm Lord, too. I think he can handle one smallfemale. Now, spit it out, cos. What happened with your dad last night? Don’tlie. I know that look on my uncle’s face. I saw it when he caught me and Beckwith his personal assistant ten years ago.”

This is news to me. How did I miss that bit of gossip? “Youtwo did Helena? Seriously? How did I not know that? She’s twenty years olderthan you.”

Cian’s smile is slightly lecherous. “She was veryexperienced. We were just young lads looking to learn. It was a beautifulafternoon that we got our asses kicked for. Uncle Don had that look in his eyeslast night. What’s going on?”

I shrug as we pass a goblin vendor selling all manner of odditems. “He was a bit upset. He thinks there’s going to be some bad press aboutthe DL.”

“Yes, I caught some of that this morning. Meggie likes towatch the DLs. I believe the talk shows labeled you ‘Asswipe of the Year,’”Cian confirms. “I didn’t think that was a term serious journalists would use,but they seemed happy with it.”

“Stupid tabloids.” They’re always on my back. The paparazziwaits to capture my fuckups for the world to see. “What do they want me to do?I didn’t even like many of those women. Most of them weren’t looking for amate. They wanted to be DL stars. Should I have asked one to marry me so Ididn’t look like a jerk and then break it off later?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone on the show in the firstplace,” Cian says with a sensibility that sets my fangs on edge. “I find ithard to believe you were serious about finding a wife from twenty femalesdesperate enough to share one man.”

I wasn’t serious. I can admit it. It seemed like a fun wayto waste some time while the bio-med unit works on the sunscreen project. I wassurprised at how joyless dating twenty hot chicks is when there’s always acamera around.

“Besides,” Cian continues, “it works better the other way.You only have one dick, man. How are you going to keep that many women happy?It takes two of us to keep Meg satisfied. If you really want to go down thatroad, you should find a friend and get a woman between you.”

“I don’t want a ménage.” The last thing I need is some dudein bed with me and whatever woman I happen to be dating. It works for Beck andCian because they share a soul. I never had to share anything, and I’m notabout to start now. “I don’t want anything at all, if I’m honest. But I don’thave that choice anymore.”

Cian stops in the middle of the street, the dust churningunder his feet. “What does that mean?”

“It means my father ordered me to get married or else,” Iadmit, hearing the harshness of the words from my own mouth.

“Are you serious?” Cian asks.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” I sigh and begin walking again.“He kicked me off the sunscreen project. He told me I can’t get back in until Ihave a consort at my side. He apparently thinks getting married will make meseem less like an asswipe.”

“You can’t get married just because your dad tells you to,”Cian insists.