Page 97 of The Guardian's Curse

She fixed a bland smile on her face and followed him to his car parked out front. The moon hung heavy and silver overhead, and the world was a dark blur around her. Though Elliott’s power still held, her will was awakening again. Maybe it was time, and maybe it was a heavy meal of tacos soaking up his blood like Waffle House after tequila shots. Either way, she was glad for it.

How could she break free? How long would it take for his blood to wear off? She regretted that she hadn’t quizzed Alistair on every aspect of vampire physiology. Despite growing up around vampires, working for them, and now sharing a bed with one, she’d never had much experience with thralls. But if his power was based on her ingesting his blood, then it had to eventually weaken enough for her to resist.

“Have you explained what she needs to do?” Elliott asked. He drove, while Ruby and Shoshanna shared the back seat.

“Elliott says you used a fireball on him when he visited your apartment,” Ruby said.

“Something like that,” Shoshanna said. “When he broke in and assaulted me.”

“If you would have listened to reason, it would have been a much more pleasant visit,” he said.

“You’ll use that power again tonight,” Ruby said. “When Elliott tells you.”

She shook her head. “I keep telling you that I can’t see.”

“Ruby will help you aim,” Elliott said. “Do whatever you need to prepare before we get there, so you’re ready at my word. Don’t let me down, or the consequences will be dire.”

Her heart thumped. “What are you going to do?”

“I told you already,” he said. “I’m going to be the king.”

* * *

Dread pooled in her stomach like ice as Elliott drove up to a gated compound. Beyond the wrought-iron gates, she could just glimpse the blurry outline of a massive house cast in warm, glowing lights. After a brief conversation with a security guard, the gates opened to allow them to drive in.

Once they pulled around the driveway, a man in a suit opened her door and helped her out. Before she could take a step further, Elliott grabbed her hand and set it on his arm. Ruby joined him on the other side, and he left the vehicle with a valet.

The front doors opened to a dimly lit mansion, where music and conversation mingled into a low blur of noise. Elliott led them across a pale expanse of marble floor. Her heels clicked noisily as she hurried to keep up.

Couches and tables were situated all around a huge sitting room, but in the low light, she could barely see. A man approached them and greeted Elliott. “Mr. McAvoy, good evening,” he said in a clipped British accent. “I see you’ve brought some delightful guests. Will you be sharing?”

“Perhaps you can have a taste later,” he said.

She shrank back, hoping he wasn’t about to lay her out as a feast for his vampire friends. A waitress in a skimpy red outfit walked up to them with a tray of glasses filled halfway with blood. Her head bowed as she offered the tray to Elliott.

Elliott took one, drained it, then plunked it back on the tray without a word. Shoshanna glanced up. There was an upper floor to this massive room, and she could see the vague outlines of people upstairs looking down.

And there at the back of the room were two raised chairs, like thrones upon a dais. She didn’t have to wonder for much longer what Elliott was up to. With both witches still clinging to his arms, he strode up to the two thrones. Up closer, Shoshanna could see a man on the left, with a slender, shirtless man laid across his lap. His wrist was in the vampire’s mouth, and several thin trickles of blood ran down his pale arm.

“Baron Moretti, I issue a challenge,” Elliott said boldly.

As if someone had flicked a switch, the conversations all around the room stopped. The pulsing electronic music went silent a few seconds later.

Though the crowd was a featureless blur, Shoshanna felt the weight of eyes upon her as the silence filled the air like smoke. She wanted to scream I’m not with him. Please don’t eat me.

There was a boisterous laugh. “You wish to challenge me?” the man’s rich voice boomed. This had to be Baron Moretti. “This is not the way.”

“This is the way of the Casteron,” Elliott replied. “A Baron will defend his title if he wishes to keep it.”

“A dull-fanged fool will defend his head if he wishes to keep it,” a woman said. The voice seemed to come from the woman on the other throne. All Shoshanna could see of her was a red sparkle from her dress.

“This is the way,” Elliott repeated. “And if I’m not mistaken, Cristiano, this is how you became a Baron, is it not?”

“More than a hundred years ago. Before you were even born, little boy,” the Baron replied. “I’ll advise you to think carefully. If you wish to keep your head upon your shoulders, you should leave immediately. Leave this house, leave the city, and never look back. Perhaps you should leave the continent to be safe.”

“I don’t think I will,” Elliott said. He took a tentative step forward. “I’ve read the codex of our laws. Contracts are sacred, and if you choose to ignore the law for your own benefit, then all of our laws are meaningless.”

“Our laws,” the woman’s voice scoffed. “You have been one of us less than a decade. You have scarcely earned the right to call them your own.”

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