Page 48 of The Rogue's Curse

“Is that so?” Misha said. He pulled Paris’s hands away and leaned in to kiss his neck. Despite his weak protest, Paris tilted his head, letting Misha kiss his neck, his throat, beneath his jaw.The taste of him, warm and rich, was enough to erode what little remained of Misha’s resolve.

Suddenly, Paris twisted his wrists and grabbed Misha’s upper arms, spinning him deftly and pressing him against the bathroom wall. Blue eyes flashed at him, and he teased his lips across Misha’s. Just as Misha parted his lips, Paris backed away and denied him the pleasure of a proper kiss. He growled in frustration.

“What’s wrong, Misha?” Paris teased. “Do you want something you can’t have?”

“Bastard,” Misha muttered.

“Prick,” Paris replied cheerfully. He leaned in and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek. “Unless you’d like me to get on my knees right now for you. Then I’ll forget how you cruelly teased me last night.”

God, the mere thought of it was enough to make him weak. For the hundredth time since that night, he recalled that beautiful dream, staring down at Paris Rossignol who looked so blissfully happy that it couldn’t possibly be real.

“I told you that you have to heal first,” Misha said, hating every word. “And I’m a man of my word, always.”

Paris smirked. “Then I should probably get my hands off you.” He broke away and said, “Get dressed. We need to be out of here by eight forty-five.”

The flirtatious sparkle had left Paris entirely by the time they gathered their things to make the drive out to the Mausoleum. The man had become all business, dressed in a sharp, dark suit that made him look devastatingly handsome and deadly at once. They carried minimal weapons, with Paris carrying a single gun and Misha hiding his athame in a sheath under his coat.

After programming his phone for directions to the isolated building, Paris pulled out into traffic. They drove through the dark streets of White Plains, eventually emerging into sparse, rolling hills.

“Have you been out here before?” Paris asked.

“Never,” Misha said.

Paris nodded. “I came a few times to assist when it was first built. When we first arrived in America, the Auberon lived in New York, and we built the place first just to have a safehouse for Eduardo. Then the fucking Vasilieva vampires showed up and decided they couldn’t find anywhere else in this massive country to live except up our asses,” he complained.

“I’ve read the stories,” Misha said.

“You would have been, what, two months old?” Paris teased.

Misha groaned, though the playful teasing stoked warmth in his belly. They had jokes now. “Maybe three.”

“When we started butting heads with the Vasilieva, we converted the house into a prison. The Vasilieva ended up making so much noise that the damned Shieldsmen showed up. We forged a truce to get rid of the hunters. After that, we sold all our territory to Piotr,” Paris said.

“Eduardo gave it up? Doesn’t seem like a power move.”

“It was strategic. We loved New York, but after that, we knew it would always be one of the first places vampire hunters would look for trouble.” Paris’s expression changed, a shadow passing over his features. “Eduardo has never been overly committed to a place. The court matters to him, and the court is where he is.”

Until it wasn’t.

“I don’t hate him for giving up Atlanta, either,” Paris said. “I just…something changed. I changed, I guess. Not that you asked. Anyway, part of our alliance with Piotr included access to the Mausoleum. For a while, Eduardo would send one of the Shroud to work there for a few months at a time. But it’s incredibly boring, and we all convinced him we were better used back in Atlanta.”

Misha nodded. “I’m curious why the Auberon preferred to imprison their enemies instead of killing them. The Crown rarely takes prisoners anymore.”

“You and me both,” Paris said, glancing over at him. “Until recently, we hadn’t sent anyone in at least sixty years. Other vampires just left us the hell alone, as it should be. This country is massive. There’s just no reason to infringe on another court’s territory. Then the Casteron showed up, and we couldn’t figure out what was going on. When we were dealing with people like Lilah and Kieran, we didn’t want to kill them outright until we knew what we were dealing with.”

“I’ve read the files you all submitted for Lilah and Kieran, but is there anything else you can tell me?”

“They’re smart and evil, which is a dangerous combination,” Paris said, shaking his head. “They were picking up victims through dating apps for a while. They managed to run a blood farm and a nightclub right under our noses for months before we found them.”

“And they’re bonded?”

“They’re Untethered, but it seems that they’re bonded to each other. Have you seen that before?” Paris asked.

Misha nodded, his stomach tying in a knot. “It’s fairly common. I was bonded with my Maker for a while until he died.”

Paris was quiet for a while, though he didn’t voice the question that was hanging thick and heavy in the air. “I see,” he finally said.

“I never fucked him, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Misha blurted. “It wasn’t like that.”

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