Secret Mate: Night Circus Series

Never Ending Love - 1

Caradoch

Cassandra had been a child when she had become a vampire. Not a delicate one with ringlets and wide blue eyes, although I had no doubt once upon a time she had been. No, she was more dangerous than that.

A teenage girl, with all the teenage girl angst and none of the limitations.

And the centuries she had stalked the world had not lessened that angst. If anything, every passing year had made it worse.

Sharp little fingernails scraped down my cheeks, leaving bloody claw marks against my pale skin. I towered over her, so she had to reach up to touch my face. It would have been easy to grab her wrists and throw her away from me. Easier than she knew, yet I didn't.

Though it had nothing to do with respect.

Cassandra might have been my sire and our coven leader, but I didn't respect her. No one in Desir Du Cirque did. She ruled by fear and fear alone.

But I wasn't afraid of her either. Her tantrums were nothing new. I’d had three centuries of them; over three hundred years of being subservient to a maniac.

Something must have shown on my face as her nails dragged downwards because her voice became angry.

“I could take your pretty eyes, Caradoch.” Her high-pitched whine had gotten so high it was little more than a high-pitched screech. Around me, in the shadows, the others shifted uncomfortably. She was losing control. Her tenuous grasp on reality was slipping. Ever since Alessandro had chosen the human girl over her, she had been teetering on the brink of total madness.

“Would you like that?” She lowered her voice, and the threat whispered up into my face. This was when she was most dangerous. When the screaming tantrum was over and the need for blood and pain took over. And Cassandra always needed blood and pain. She lived on it. How she hadn't been put down by the vampire elders already, no one knew. They had definitely taken out other vampires for less, but for some reason, they let Cassandra live. Maybe it had something to do with her age. Maybe they were scared of her. That made the most sense. The whole damn world should have been afraid of her.

“Would you like me to take your pretty golden eyes?”

She was becoming impatient. My refusal to answer would increase the pain she wanted to inflict on me.

“I live to serve you, Cassandra,” I said the words she expected of me. My eyes stared straight ahead even as her fingers hovered before them, ready at any second to do what she had just threatened.

I was her favourite; I always had been.

Her favourite of all the vampires in Desir Du Cirque, and it came with more privileges than most had, but it also meant I was her favourite to punish.

And since Alessandro had deserted and betrayed her, I had become the whipping boy. Because she couldn’t reach the true focus of her rage, and because I hadn’t stood in the way of that betrayal. No one in our long memory had ever refused when she had demanded they reject their mate. No one but him. I sure as hell hadn't.

I shook the thought away. Now was not the time to think about the past. I couldn’t risk any hint of nostalgia on my face; she would see it straight away. Better to take the punishment she felt I needed to take and keep my mind clear of what I had hidden away.

My ultimate treasure.

The one I had been searching for over more years than I cared to count.

“I know you do, sweet boy.” Cassandra's fingers relaxed and the skin under my eyes sprang back into place, allowing me to blink. She patted my cheek.

Sweet boy? I had been older than she had been when she had turned me. Older by several years, but to her, we were all children. Her children. And she would reward and punish us as she saw fit. It was usually the latter.

“But I do think a punishment is still in order, don't you?” Stepping back, she smiled wildly. And just like that, she looked every bit the sweet, butter wouldn't melt, child again.

No wonder she was so dangerous. It was more than the maniac rages she flew into. It was the fact that she wouldn’t have looked out of place leading a prayer group at a local Sunday school.

Cassandra was the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. And a rabid one at that.

“If you think that's best.” I lowered my eyes to my feet, but I hadn’t effectively hidden the sarcasm in my voice and had seen her eyes widen for a second before narrowing into slits.

She was silent for a moment, and each second that ticked by felt longer. Finally, I raised my gaze to hers.

“Yes, I think it's best.” She continued to stare at me, her fine hair falling over her eyes so it was like looking at two glowing orbs peering out of the darkness.

Cassandra did the spooky vampire thing better than any other creature I had ever met.

She reached up again, her fingers smearing the blood she had drawn across my cheek. Like a confused puppy dog, she tilted her face to the side.

“You're bleeding, Caradoch.”

Part of me wanted to scream at her. Of course I was bleeding. She had reduced my face to ribbons with her nails for no real reason. But I knew what she was getting at. The scratches should have healed already.

I was weak. Much weaker than I should have been, and she was starting to realise it.

“I bleed for you, Cassandra.” Dropping to my knees, I lowered my head. It brought my head up to her chin, and it had the required effect.

Reaching out, she smoothed my dark hair back. Her girly face turned soft. “I know you do. You are my most loyal servant. My golden child.” Cold fingers curled around my chin, lifting my face up to hers. “But I think a few days in the closet will help you to remember who is in charge. Don't you?”

The closet. It was a quaint term for the chained, walled up coffin she was about to thrust me into. I wasn't even sure when she had first got the idea, but it was one of her favourites now.

“Yes, Cassandra.” Drawing myself up to my full height, I waited for the next part of her punishment. It was never enough for her to starve her children—she always had to go one step further. And there was nothing I could do about it unless I challenged her.

“Teach him his place.” She stepped away with a swish of her skirts, her tiny feet dancing as she giggled.

Holding my head up high, I watched as the others slunk forward from the shadows, as if seeping from the very walls. Their faces showed nothing but a weary sort of acceptance. This was the way it was for all of us. I would be punished for speaking out of turn by the entire coven. Even when they didn't want to. There was no one here strong enough to take on Cassandra.

Nodding once, I told them without speaking that it was fine. Not that it really mattered. They would do it even if it wasn't. They were too afraid of her not to.

Only I was no longer afraid of Cassandra. Not anymore.

There was only one thing I was frightened of now.

As the vampires swarmed forward, I let another image take form behind my closed eyes.

A smiling face that had always been there.

Haunting me.

It had been that way for centuries.