Page 24 of The Guardian's Curse

Then he turned. In the low light, she could only see the dark fabric covering him. Was he so sensitive to light that even the candle would hurt him? His head lifted, and she realized the hood hung low over his face, casting him in shadow. All she could see was the glowing red of his eyes.

Ice cold trickled down her spine, followed quickly by the hot flush of embarrassment. Here was her grand meeting with a respected vampire of the most powerful court in America, and she was dressed for bed without a stitch of makeup, wearing the obnoxiously cute llama pajamas that Ruby got her for Christmas.

Alistair was quiet. Probably wondering why in the hell his friends had bothered protecting a complete moron with llama pajamas. “You must be Shoshanna.”

“That’s me,” she said. In all my childish flannel glory. “I hope I didn’t wake you during the day.”

“No,” he said. “If you’re planning a schedule, I’ll take my dinner at ten beginning tomorrow night.”

She stood up straight, already feeling like she’d disappointed him. “Would you like something now?”

“No,” he said. “The snack you brought was sufficient. For the future, I prefer a bit hotter.”

“Sure,” she breathed. “I can do that.”

He sniffed the air. “Have you been cleaning my house?”

Her heart thumped. “Yes. Is that all right?”

“Of course. However, you will not go into my chambers.” It was polite, but very clearly an order.

“I understand,” she said. Her heart pounded. And worse, she knew he could hear it.

As if he felt sorry for her, he nudged the cat. “Go to your mistress. And remember the rules.”

Magneto leaped down from the bench and barreled for her, winding around her legs before she scooped him up. His rapid purr vibrated against her chest as she squeezed him like a stuffed animal. She wanted to turn and run. Those deep, red eyes burned within the shadow like coals behind glass. She’d never seen a vampire with eyes that intense.

Closing her eyes, she used her arcane sight to inspect Alistair. Deep blue entangled him like a net, with a gnarled knot around his heart. Just like Paris and Dominic. That had to be why he avoided the light. How had they all ended up cursed?

“Was there something else, Shoshanna?” His voice broke through her concentration.

“You play the piano so beautifully,” she blurted.

“I know.” He chuckled to himself. “Playing for over two hundred years yields a certain amount of proficiency.”

“I play too,” she said. “I mean, not like that, but...”

He turned. “Good night, Shoshanna.”

The abrupt dismissal left her reeling, cheeks hot. With the cat cradled close to her chest, she hurried back to her room. As she made her hasty retreat, the piano playing began again behind her.

Well, that hadn’t been what she expected. With embarrassment turning her guts to a twisting knot of snakes, she closed the door and deposited Magneto on the bed. “Really?”

He stared up at her, yellow eyes wide and innocent.

“Don’t play cute,” she said. “You’re lucky he didn’t eat you.”

But honestly, it seemed like Alistair had liked the cat better than he liked her.

Not that it mattered. He didn’t need to like her. He was just here to scare away Elliott and the other Casteron vampires. And she was here to put some witchy security on his house. It was business.

Nothing more.

7

Sweet vanilla hung in the air long after the witch left him alone in the dark. Her scent was light and pleasant, with a faint hint of something richer that he couldn’t quite place. And she was a work of art with the candlelight illuminating her rich brown skin. Even in the low light, he could see the light dusting of freckles over her full cheeks and the tiny corona of amber against the deep brown of her eyes.

Shoshanna was utterly exquisite.

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