Page 85 of The Guardian's Curse

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“You must rest, Shoshanna,” he said, slipping one hand to her hip.

She gently pushed it away. “I can’t now. I have to finish this.”

“I told you before that Lucia can wait,” he said. “And I can wait. You’re exhausted. I can see it on your face.”

She mustered a weak laugh. “Mister Thorne, didn’t you know you should never tell a girl she looks tired?”

“Come sit with me a while,” he said. He gently tugged at her hand. “I can think of things that need your attention.”

Irritation sparked through her and spread through her frazzled mind like a brushfire. She knew exactly how he planned to distract her, and while her body thrilled at the thought of it, it was almost insulting. Apparently he thought she was so simple-minded that she would put orgasms above everything else. She pulled away from him. “This is important.”

“As is your health.”

She gave him an arch look, imitating his dry delivery. “While I appreciate your concern, I have taken care of myself for quite a while.”

He let out a growl of frustration. “Then what will make this go faster?”

“You not arguing with me every step of the way,” she replied, plopping down amidst her papers. She squinted at one of the diagrams, then closed her eyes to visualize a modified version. She’d always been good at geometry, at turning shapes back and forth in her mind. Now that she knew the red thread was bound into the curse but not part of it, that changed things. The journal had mentioned that soul threads released a large amount of energy. Perhaps she could somehow channel that power and turn it outward to shatter the curse. “Will you write for me?”

“I suppose,” he said, though he sounded annoyed at being put on secretarial duty.

“I need two large amethysts. A good batch of graveyard dirt. Iron shavings,” she said, continuing with a long list of reagents. She winced. The edges of her vision shimmered through a dark halo. “Did you know Lucia when this happened to her?”

“I did,” he said. “We were all in Vienna then, enjoying the peace that came with the end of our war with the Shieldsmen.”

She was careful in her words. “How long did it take her to turn into stone like this?”

“I’m not certain. Kova told us that she was ill perhaps a week before it happened. I saw her a few days before, and she was bedridden. She had difficulty breathing, as if...” he hesitated. “As if she had begun to change from the inside.”

Shoshanna took a deep breath. Surely the tightness in her chest was paranoia. “Were there any other symptoms? Body temperature, aches, maybe her vision?”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

“I just want to know as much as I can,” she lied. “Every detail helps.”

“I don’t know the specifics,” he said. “Kova only told us that she had become ill. We tried giving her vampire blood, but it did not cure her. We brought in doctors, even a blood witch from the Court of Thanatos, and no one could help. The blood witch knew she was cursed, but could not break it.” He suddenly gripped her chin. “Shoshanna, are you ill?”

“No,” she said. She tried to pull away, but he held her firmly. “I’m just wondering.”

“Your heart is pounding, and your eyes just flicked away from me. You’re lying.” He released her and shook his head. “I would rather you tell me something unpleasant than lie to me. Why are you asking me all these questions?”

She took a deep breath, gazing at him through her blurry, shimmering vision. “Because I think whatever happened to Lucia is happening to me.”

21

Her words were a splintered stake through his heart. “What are you saying?”

Staring down at her, he could see the change to her eyes. A cloudy sheen covered the whites and closed in around the rich, oak brown of her irises. She looked down, then reached for his ungloved left hand. He resisted the urge to pull away. Her touch was a warm flame that prickled up his arm, making him feel welcome and safe despite his self-loathing and revulsion at the sight of his hands. She hooked her pinky around his. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but we’re soulmates.”

He stiffened. “That’s not possible.”

“I can see it. The same red thread that runs through Lucia is running between you and me. It wasn’t here before I met you, and now it is,” she said. She put her hand to his chest. A flood of warmth swept over him. He felt a distinct pull from his finger, straight to the base of his spine. “Do you feel it?”

Soulmate.

It was impossible, but he knew it was true as sure as he knew his own name. The thought filled him with hope and terror at the same time. How could he, inadequate fool that he was, be entrusted with such a treasure? “I certainly care for you, Shoshanna, but how is this possible?”

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