Page 54 of The Rogue's Curse

“I’m alive,” Misha croaked.

“Good. I’m going to find us someone to feed on so you can recover.”

“I’m fine,” Misha said, pushing Paris’s hand away. He sat up, swayed, and lay back on the pillow with one dirty hand pressed to his forehead. “I’m not fine.”

He had to laugh. “At least you’re honest.”

“See how easy that is?” Misha quipped weakly. “I have to call—”

“Julian is calling the Crown. Just rest for now,” Paris said.

He shed his shirt and jacket, quickly washed his face, and raked his hair back before putting his shirt back on. Misha’s blood was soaked through his jacket, but he looked halfway presentable otherwise. He hurried out of the motel and across the street to the sports bar that he’d scouted for precisely this reason.

Before walking in, he called Julian. “We’re safe. I’m finding dinner.”

“Be careful,” Julian said. “I just had an interesting conversation with the Vasilievs, who swear they don’t know anything about it.”

“You believe them?” he asked.

“Not entirely,” Julian said. “Piotr sounded surprised, but I don’t trust anyone right now.”

“You think he would get in bed with Shea?”

“I wouldn’t put much past Piotr and Natasha,” Julian said. He sighed. “I’ll update you with anything I get. Talk to you—”

“Wait,” he said. “How’s Danielle? After everything, I’m concerned for her and Olivia.”

Julian chuckled lightly. “She won’t say it, but she’s scared. I told her to stay here for now. Safira is getting her settled with pajamas and a whole bottle of tequila, from what I gathered. Nikko is handling Olivia.”

Paris shook his head. “I told Olivia she’d be safe because we weren’t bringing them back.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Julian said. “I’ve got things covered here. You take care of yourself. Do we need to get you new travel arrangements?”

“As far as I know, we didn’t send our location to the administrators or with the Vasilievs, just the dates we’d be in town,” Paris said. “I think we’re good. Did you contact the Crown?”

“Yes. They want an update on Volkov as soon as possible,” Julian said.

“We’ll call.”

“Is he hurt?” Julian asked.

“Yeah. Well…” Paris shook his head, recalling the way he’d lit up. That magic was beautiful and terrifying, and he suspected that Misha had been holding back, rationing himself so he could last longer. “He used his power to protect us and get us through. I think he’s drained. Who the fuck knows? This is all new territory.”

Julian laughed bitterly. “Understood. Update me as soon as you can.”

And with that, Paris sidled into a smoky sports bar in search of a takeout meal for two.

12

Cold swept over Misha, and then he felt the heavy, concrete sensation of having overdone the magic. Awareness crept back, and with it, the scent of fresh human blood. He opened his eyes and eased himself up to see an unfamiliar brunette woman sitting on the edge of his bed. He startled and turned to see Paris coming out of the bathroom.

The human woman gaped at Misha with glazed brown eyes. “Are you okay?” she asked in a shaky voice. “You don’t look so good.”

“This is my friend,” Paris said smoothly. “Michael, this is Allison.”

“He’s going to bite me?” Allison asked.

“That’s right,” he said. He pointed to her phone. “Did you share your location with your friend? I want you to feel comfortable.”

---