Page 69 of The Rogue's Curse

The creature backed away. Its blood-stained maw took on more solidity, as if tasting Misha’s blood was bringing it to life. Color surged from its stained teeth and curled lips.

Paris swore and said, “I see it!” In a single motion, Paris drew his blade and lunged. With a deft stroke, he severed one of the spindly legs.

The whispering voices from the barrier crescendoed to clamoring shouts. Catching a rivulet of blood from his arm, Misha smeared his blade and ignited the spark of power. Taking advantage of the creature’s disrupted gait, he lunged and drove his glowing blade into its back and twisted. Power erupted from the blade, flattening the beast. Paris leaped over him, landed neatly, and sliced through its too-thin neck.

His blue eyes lifted to Misha, full of fear. “What the hell was that? Did it come from inside? Are they onto us?”

“I don’t know,” Misha said. As they watched, the spider-like creature melted away, leaving fragments of that ash-like substance to blow away in the light breeze. “Let’s go.”

Paris took his hand and guided him away from the wall. They quickly zigzagged across the street, looping around several blocks before pausing to regain their composure. He put one finger to his lips and said, “Quiet. You stay here.” He crept away, then clambered up the side of the building like a monkey.

Misha rested his head against the wall. The endless whispering in his head made it hard to think straight. Was he losing control of his power?

Paris dropped next to him and lightly touched his cheek. “Are you okay? Your eyes are almost black,” he said, apparently unfazed.

Misha shook his head, then gripped Paris’s shoulders tight. “My magic is unstable,” he said. “I just need a second.”

Fear lanced through him. He’d been unstable before. His little explosion in their hotel the other night wasn’t a fluke. But he’d never seen a creature like that. Had it come from him or the wall?

With his eyes closed, he imagined one of Rafaela’s runes and coaxed that pulsing red power into the well-worn grooves. After what felt like hours, his body finally relaxed. The whispers faded to a dull noise, annoying but tolerable.

When he opened his eyes, Paris was still patiently waiting, head cocked. “Better?”

He nodded and took Paris’s hand. “Let’s keep going.”

“We’re not going to talk about the spider monster that just came at us?”

“Later,” Misha said.

“Okay,” Paris said mildly, squeezing his hand slightly. He took out his phone and quickly typed a message. “I’m letting Shoshanna and Allie know to be safe.”

He had lost track of time, gently guiding Paris along the outer perimeter of the massive ward. Finally, he asked, “How far have we come?”

“We’ve walked about a mile and a half,” Paris said. “This barrier is absolutely massive.”

A chill ran down Misha’s spine. “The amount of power to do something like this… I don’t like the idea that Shea is working with someone who’s capable of it.”

“That makes two of us,” Paris said.

Eventually, the SUV pulled up to them, and they rejoined Alistair and Shoshanna, who was sketching furiously on a large pad of paper in the back seat. Alistair met Misha’s gaze. “You all right?”

Misha nodded. “You didn’t see anything?”

Shoshanna shook her head. “Maybe it targeted you because of Paris,” she said. Her gaze cut to Paris. “Because you attacked Shea. Not your curse. Unless—”

“Shoshanna,” Alistair murmured.

“What does that mean?” Misha asked. “Your curse manifests when you sleep, does it not?”

“He knows?” Shoshanna said. “Oh, good.”

Paris shook his head. “I appreciate that you three are talking about me like I’m not here.”

“I wasn’t,” Alistair said, holding up his hands in self-defense.

“I’m pretty sure a Night Weaver built this,” Shoshanna said, gesturing broadly with her pencil. “It’s possible that it reacted to your curse. Or Shea really hates you in particular.”

Paris frowned. “But it attacked Misha first. I didn’t even see it.”

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