Page 67 of The Rogue's Curse

Furthermore, he couldn’t imagine the higher-ups in Thanatos literally breaking their backs to save human lives. They weren’t monsters by any stretch of the imagination, but they practiced a cold detachment from the human world. In the same position, they would have said this simply wasn’t their problem. That was an easier way for them to live, certainly, but not the right one.

Misha freshened up quickly, then armed up with some of his reloaded serums and brews. By the time he returned to the main building to find Paris in his office, Alistair and Shoshanna had arrived. The petite human witch smiled at him and said, “I heard you had some success.”

“I did indeed,” he said warmly.

“You want to teach me how you did it?” she teased.

“When you become a vampire and study with the mágisses, I’d be happy to,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Not even for something important?”

“I am to protect our methods with my life, Miss York,” he said. “However, I’m grateful for your assistance so far. And I will certainly appreciate your help in investigating Shea’s location. Depending on the magic, you may have more expertise than I do.”

At that, she perked up, the suspicious expression evaporating. “Okay. I can do that,” she said. Then her eyes lit up, and she slid past Misha to embrace Paris. “You look so much better.”

“I always look good, Miss York,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll assume you meant that I went from merely good to utterly transcendent.”

“Obviously that’s what I meant,” she teased. A lovely warmth filled her eyes when she looked up at him. “You’re really feeling okay?”

“I feel better than I have in weeks,” Paris admitted, glancing at Misha. He embraced Alistair as well, kissing his cheeks before withdrawing.

Alistair chuckled and said, “We’ve been brainstorming names. Krieger.”

“Warriors? A bit on the nose,” Paris said.

“Told you,” Shoshanna said with a laugh. “How about Sentinels?”

“Not bad.”

“I’m sensing a bias,” Alistair said drily.

With a laugh, Paris beckoned and said, “Shall we?”

After the three vampires were well-armed and the witch was reminded to let them protect her, Paris recruited James, a new vampire, to drive them across town in one of their light-proofed vehicles. Misha sat in the front seat,holding Lilah’s bloodstone in his cupped hands.

Show yourself, he murmured in Russian, focusing his power through the stone again. When the spark of power in him met the distilled power of her blood, heat surged through him. The world seemed to spin, and he lost himself for several long, terrifying moments.

There was a wildness in his power, which had been stoked to life in a time of pain and imprisonment. And Frasier had used him like a weapon, first enthralling him and then draining his blood to gain power for himself. Misha had not learned to control his power for years, and he was still fighting to keep himself in control decades later. Rafaela had told him that his power would be his greatest weapon or his most terrible curse, depending on whether he could maintain control.

Harsh whispers tickled at his hearing, and he gritted his teeth as he fought to concentrate. Amidst the smells of the car, a human witch and her clean sage scent, and two male vampires who were less familiar—there was Paris. His clean, strong presence wafted to Misha like fresh-cut wood and good leather, and taking in that aroma brought to his memory those kind eyes that had stared down at him amidst the nightmare.

I’m here. You’re okay.

Misha relaxed, allowing his power to pour through the bloodstone as he searched for Lilah. When his eyes opened, it took him a moment to adjust to the strangevisual dissonance of seeing the road blur past him, with the arcane vision flickering across it.

“That direction,” Misha said, pointing off to their left. James followed, accelerating down the road. As they drove,the tug became stronger. At first it was a mere thread, as if someone was tugging a single hair on his head. He directed James to turn, prompting some quiet swearing on several occasions as they missed turns and circled around the tangled interstates.

The closer they got, the wider and tighter the thread became, until it felt like a sharp hook in his heart, yanking him closer and closer.

“This doesn’t seem right,” Paris murmured. “We’re close to downtown. Not far from the Constitution building. Are you sure it’s—”

A yawning void opened ahead of them, and Misha grabbed James’s arm firmly. “Stop.”

The vehicle jolted to a halt, prompting curses from the backseat. The thread of Lilah’s presence drew him further, but in his arcane sight, he saw a massive web of pulsing grayish-blue tendrils, as if a spider had spun an enormous web across the street in front of them. It stretched far and wide, rising up into the night sky where the threads blended into the darkness.

“What is it?” Paris asked.

“It’s warded,” Shoshanna said before Misha could answer. She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry. Didn’t meant to interrupt.”

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