Seamus froze. He'd seen that name before, etched on a card inside Isolde's Labyrinth of Dream. Damien.
Could they really be connected? If the labyrinth had shown him that name, it wasn't an accident. Nothing in Isolde's constructs ever was.
His tangled ties with vampire hunters and vampires weren't even surprising anymore. As a Crimson Nectar, of course, the hunters might have known something about him. But since he was a baby?
He might now already be in Hunter's hands rather than in Velstrath.
'Maybe it was a different person… but still.' The unease settled like lead behind his ribs.
"How did he die? And when?"
Madeline tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Oh? You're interested in that story now?" She said it as though she had been waiting for him to ask.
Seamus said nothing, simply holding her gaze. By now he was forcing himself to keep quiet, practising the skill of not oversharing, of locking facts away even from people who weren't his enemies.
