Page 117 of The Rogue's Curse

The message had barely stopped when Nikko burst into a diatribe. “I don’t care about the risks. I cannot sit by while they murder innocent people.”

“I agree,” he said.

“And I know you’re trying to do the—” Nikko paused. “You agree?”

“I agree,” Paris said again. “It was one thing when they were just killing. Now they’ve offered an invitation, and we should take it. You know this is certainly a trap?”

“I know,” he said.

“And if you die, Olivia will never forgive me,” he said.

Nikko pinched the bridge of his nose. “And if I don’t do this, I will never forgive myself, nor will I be worthy of Olivia’s affection.”

“Jesus,” Paris muttered. “Well, let’s plan your inevitable demise. Pick a team of five, and I’ll meet you in the war room in fifteen minutes.”

He found Misha in his lab, looking too pale. His hair was a mess, and under less dire circumstances, he might have teased the man about looking like a mad scientist. Laid across his workbench were a dozen dark, cloth-wrapped packages. While he painstakingly measured some crushed leaves, something viscous and purplish-red bubbled away on his chemistry apparatus.

“Hi,” Misha said without looking up.

“Are you all right?” Paris asked, frowning at him. “You don’t look so good.”

“I didn’t sleep well, I suppose.”

Emotion twisted in his chest, yanking at his throat. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.”

Misha’s brows knit together as he finally looked up. “Don’t be foolish. Is this a social visit, or business?”

“Business, I’m afraid,” Paris said. “We’re making a move tonight.”

“Already?” Misha looked around frantically. “I’m not ready.”

“Against Lilah and Kieran,” he said.

“And you need me to join?” Misha asked. He seemed oddly hesistant, as if he was hoping Paris would say no. That struck him as terribly strange.

“I need you to use your little bloodstone and tell me if Lilah is where she says she is, and if it’s possible, whether Carrigan is with her. Can you do that without hurting yourself?” Paris asked.

Misha nodded. “Yeah, I can handle that. What are you going to do if they’re both together?”

“Call it off,” Paris said. “If it’s just Lilah, I’m turning Nikko loose so maybe he’ll finally calm the fuck down. But if Shea’s there…we’re not ready.”

Misha gestured broadly to his workbench. “Most of it is ready. And if he’s with her outside of his stronghold, we wouldn’t need the cage ward. You should take the chance if he’s there.” His head cocked, eyes narrowing. “You don’t think he will be.”

Paris shook his head. “I think Lilah is acting on her own. She’s smart, but she’s cocky,” he said. “And she knows Nikko’s as soft-hearted as they come.”

Misha burst out laughing. “It’s adorable that you think you’re so different.”

Annoyance prickled at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You think you’re not just as tender deep down?” Misha asked. “Paris, you’re a raw nerve half the time. You’re just good at dealing with the fallout of ignoring it.”

“You think you know me so well?” he asked.

Misha rose and swept back his mussed hair. That single gesture was sex incarnate, the sinuous motion of his muscular forearm utterly captivating. “I’m literally bound to you. I think I know you quite well,” he said. “Besides, none of what I said is bad. You understand that, don’t you?” He gently clasped Paris’s face and kissed his lips. “Give me five minutes to pack my things, and I’ll join you. If I can stay out of the fight, that would let me preserve my energy, but I’ll do what you need.”

Paris shook his head. “I’d rather you stayed out of it.”

“For tactical purposes or because you don’t want me to get hurt?”

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