Page 13 of The Guardian's Curse

“Who’s threatening? I don’t want this cute little guy to run out the door. Something bad could happen to him,” he said. He stroked Magneto’s head, and the little traitor stilled, eyes closing halfway. His panther ancestors would be ashamed to see him. “The way the Casteron see it, you owe them loyalty. They protected your family. They still protect Elijah and Sherry.”

The mention of her brother’s name sent a chill down her spine. “My family was only ever in danger because of the Casteron.”

He shrugged. “Who’s to say? You owe them a meeting at the very least.” His eyes narrowed. “You owe me that. We used to have something, Sho. Please.”

There was something oddly fervent in his voice. “You stalked me,” she protested.

“I loved you,” he said incredulously. “I just want you to be part of something like I am now. You could be living in a penthouse in Midtown instead of working in that crappy coffeeshop.”

Her blood went cold. “What do you know about the coffeeshop?”

“I know a little black dress suits you far more than that red apron,” he said.

Her skin crawled. He was watching her, and had been for God only knew how long. And the crazy thing was that he sounded earnest. Her voice trembled as she said, “Please let my cat go. I might be willing to hear you out.”

His mouth pulled into a crooked smile. “I can hear your heartbeat, Shoshanna,” he said. “I know you’re lying.”

There was a firm knock at the front door, then it flew inward. A barefoot woman in a slinky black dress entered, a pair of red-soled high heels hooked in one hand. Her red hair was windblown in waves around her face. She gave Elliott a once-over and wrinkled her nose. “You must be the uninvited guest.”

His smile twisted into a snarl. “We were just talking.”

“Your conversation is over,” she said. The woman darted forward and grabbed Elliott’s face in one well-manicured hand. He backed into the counter, feet crunching over shattered glass. The cat wiggled out of his grasp and bolted to her bedroom. The red-haired woman glanced over her shoulder. “Hey there. You okay?”

Shoshanna nodded, her mouth going dry. “Yeah.”

The vampire woman smiled brightly, then turned back to Elliott. Her scarlet-painted nails dug into his face, and his knees buckled. “Listen up, you little shit,” she said. “This witch is under the protection of the Blade of Auberon. You’re new in my city, so this is your one and only warning. If you even think of touching her again, you will have the entire Shroud up your ass. And in case you’re wondering, I do not mean in the fun way. Do you understand?”

“I was just talk—” He let out a terrible, muffled cry of agony. His face was suddenly misshapen in her grasp, like a jack o’lantern left too long on the stoop.

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, boy. Do you understand?” the woman said again. Blood trickled down her pale forearm. “Take the message to your Baron. Write it down if you can’t speak clearly.”

Elliott wrenched away from her. Blood streamed from his nose. His jaw hung crooked and loose. “You’re going to regret that.” His words were slurred.

“I sleep fine in a pile of regrets,” the woman said. She snarled. “Get out before I change my mind and rip your nuts off for a midnight snack.”

In a blur, Elliott was gone, leaving them alone in the apartment. Shoshanna let out a sob of relief and ran for the bedroom. “Mags? Maggie?”

She found his glowing eyes under the bed, his go-to spot when he got busted for digging in her flowerpots. He dodged and retreated behind a plastic tote full of winter clothes. The feel of his tail slipping through her fingers prompted a sudden wave of tears.

The vampire woman appeared in her door. She casually caught the trickle of blood on her arm and licked her fingers clean. Freaking vampires. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said in a breathless rush, still slumped on the floor. “No. I mean, yeah.”

The woman’s feet were dirty and streaked with blood. Shoshanna followed her shapely legs up to see her cocktail dress and heavy jewelry. Despite her strange appearance, she was smiling. “We haven’t met. I’m Safira.”

“Are you okay? Your feet,” Shoshanna said.

Safira lifted one filthy foot, then cursed. “Scheisse, I left a mess on your floor.”

“Good lord. Forget about my floor,” Shoshanna said. “Do you need first aid?”

“Honey, I’m a vampire. I’ll heal fine in a few hours,” she said. “I was headed out when Dom called me.” When she pointed her toes, she had the dramatic, graceful curve of a ballerina’s foot. “I kicked off my shoes and ran. No one’s fast in stilettos. Plus, those were limited edition, and I would have actually murdered that little prick if I’d broken one of them because of him.”

Her throat clenched. “You don’t even know me.”

Safira shrugged. “Dom said it was important. That’s enough for me. Plus, I hate guys who don’t respect boundaries.” She busied herself with the front door, which was swinging loose on its hinges. “I think I ruined your door, although I have to admit that I didn’t even try to open it. It’s a bad habit. You have no idea how satisfying it is to kick in a door.”

Despite herself, Shoshanna laughed. “I think I have bigger problems right now.”

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