Page 45 of The Guardian's Curse

“Eduardo has requested that you be there,” he said. They shared a bottle of vintage wine in his study, but he knew Paris was not there out of politeness or concern.

“I don’t do parties anymore.”

“Let me rephrase,” Paris said over the edge of his glass. “Eduardo has demanded that you be there. He wants to know how you got staked when you were supposed to be here protecting Shoshanna.”

His blood ran cold. “I can explain.”

“And you will. To Eduardo,” Paris said. “You didn’t want to tell me what happened, so I couldn’t cover for you.” He shrugged.

“And what of Shoshanna?”

“She will attend,” Paris said. “Eduardo wants to speak to her in person about taking a retainer.”

“Couldn’t that be a phone call?”

“Probably, but she deserves to get out of the house,” Paris snapped. “Its owner is being an absolute shit and making her stay miserable.”

“She doesn’t need to deal with me.”

Paris arched his brow. “No, she doesn’t. Not when you act like this.” He drained his glass. “I have work. Consider being slightly less of a petulant little shit, would you?”

Alistair bit back on his retort, instead watching his old friend gather his jacket and saunter out the door. Paris was right. He hated saying those words, but they were true.

The next night, he listened for Shoshanna at his door again. Quiet knock. Two thunks of glasses at his door. “Alistair, you need to come out. Pouting isn’t helping,” she said.

Anger flared up inside him. Who was pouting? Had Paris put her up to it?

He opened the door, thrusting his hand out to grab his dinner, when something tangled around his wrist. Tendrils of light erupted from the door frame, as if a spider web had surged into existence. It was hot, but didn’t burn his skin. As he watched, thin strands of light crawled up his arm like vines, holding him even tighter.

The witch stared up at him with a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “Hi there,” she said. “Are you going to talk to me now?”

12

The spell had actually worked. She wasn’t sure if it came as more of a surprise to her or to Alistair, who was frozen in place. His face was uncovered, giving her a full view of his mottled gray skin. Black horns curled away from his face. He wore no shirt, exposing a muscled chest and the messy wounds in his shoulder and belly. New pink skin was slowly turning gray in blotches.

Dark lips curled back from his sharp white teeth. “Let me go,” he snarled. His red eyes were filled with hellfire, not the ruby glow of normal vampires.

“Not until you talk to me,” she said, crossing her arms.

Dull pain throbbed in her temples, and she could sense the spell nearing its limits. “Shoshanna, I’m warning you,” he growled.

“I’ll let you go when you talk to me,” she said. The pain intensified, and she felt a terrible scraping sensation in her head, like nails on a blackboard.

With an inhuman roar, he yanked his arm free. The tendrils popped with a sound like steel wire snapping. He lunged. His strong hands shoved her backward into the wall. One huge hand pinned her throat, squeezing just hard enough to send a message. There was no hiding his face now.

Thick veins on his jaw and down the corded lines of his neck glowed like molten lava in cracked gray earth. He looked like a nightmare that crawled out of hell itself, looking for foolish little witches to devour. Her reflection stared back at her from his glowing red eyes.

And even on the landscape of that monstrous face, she could see the pain, even humiliation. She didn’t care what he looked like. He had to understand that. “Alistair, I just—”

She gasped as he whirled her around and pinned her to the wall, one arm tight in his grasp. Her vision was filled with dark, gilded wallpaper, and she wondered if the last thing she’d ever see were those gaudy gold swirls.

Shoshanna, what the fuck were you thinking?

There was nothing to stop the furious, hungry vampire from tearing out her throat and ridding himself of an annoying little pest. This was why the smarter part of her had been screaming to stay away since the day she arrived.

“What insanity has possessed you?” he growled in her ear. She wriggled against him, but his body was an immovable stone statue. “You are well paid to do a simple job. Is it too difficult for you to leave my meals and then fuck off?” There was an uncharacteristic meanness in his voice.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she murmured. “I wanted to apologize for hurting you.”

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