Page 123 of The Prince's Curse

Sasha’s brothers spoke endlessly of how they were so eager to return to “normal.” For them, normal was restful, peaceful, even wonderfully boring. And he did not blame them, especially after these more recent months of turmoil, which came on the heels of decades, in some cases even centuries of suffering excruciating curses.

But he was different from his brothers in two significant ways.

First, they had not spent over a century losing their memory over and over again, consigned to a solitary, safe life. He certainly appreciated that they had done their best to protect him from greater harm. They’d even kept him occupied with training so his body did not become weak and soft.

But even with the fragmented memories still crowding his mind that was stretching to accommodate them, he did not feel the intense exhaustion that the others had felt. Since their curses were broken, they were glad for rest, glad for the quiet times.

After so many years of sheltered silence, Sasha was elated to be back on the hunt, tracking and killing as he had done so long ago.When he was moving through the night on the trail of his prey, he knew he was doing precisely what he was made for.

Second, none of his brothers were bonded to Kristina Arensberg, who was a goddess of the hunt if there ever was one. Fleet-footed Artemis would have envied her, sharp-eyed and quick as lightning. Years of training as a hunter had sharpened her, and becoming a vampire had made her nearly unstoppable. He loved to watch her fight, and loved even more what the adrenaline did for her desire. After the hunt, her primal aggression transformed into lust, and he was its very lucky target.

No, Sasha Morozov did not mind carrying on the hunt while his brothers rested.

That said, his enthusiasm was dampened as he and Kristina made their silent approach to the rubble of the Constitution building. Much of the debris had been cleared away by demolition crews, leaving only parts of the second floor and most of the first standing. It had not been so long since he and Kristina were imprisoned here. Back then, he’d been helpless as he watched that bastard drink her dry before turning her against her will. Even knowing that Julian had handily disposed of Carrigan Shea, he still felt a creeping dread at the sight. This place and that man still lived in his nightmares, when he failed to reach Kristina in time, when he lost her over and over.

They perched atop the MARTA station across the street and observed. His mate’s eyes closed, and he forgot to pay attention as he watched her head tilt, the moonlight playing off her golden hair. Then he heard the scuff of feet, whipped his head around to ensure that they were still alone, and finally focused.

The sooner they dealt with this, the sooner he could enjoy the part that came after the hunt.

Her fingers tapped his. Flat palm, then a distinctive three fingers, followed by four. Her brows lifted in a silent question.

He closed his eyes and focused on the scents around him. Latching onto the vampire scent made it easier to tune out the rest that competed for his attention. The smell of decay and death was entwined with the vampires. Picking them apart, he found three—perhaps four. And something else, carrying that smell of magic that wreathed Armina Voss.

He pressed his lips to Kristina’s ear, trying not to be distracted as she leaned into him. The tincture that masked her scent made it much easier to focus. “Witch?” he whispered.

She nodded slightly. “Or magic.”

Kova had warned them that Armina’s apprentice was enslaving vampires with her magic. And Kova himself had stunk of magic, though not nearly this strong.

“Let’s go,” Sasha said.

“Should we call for backup?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “You could handle four alone, radnaya.”

She rolled her eyes, but rose, patting herself to check for weapons. Then she took the small glass vial of antitoxin from her pocket and drank it. Sasha followed, wincing at the thick, ashen taste. He could not complain about Misha’s results. Wood was still unpleasant, but not the debilitating weakness it was without his help.

After surveying the street beneath her, Kristina launched into the air, soaring through the shadows and landing on the sidewalk of the bridge that ended in the street surrounding the brick building. He followed, close on her tail as they slipped into the jagged remains of the building.

Even after the destructive spells brought it down with demolition crews close behind, some of the infrastructure remained, thick steel girders jutting up from piles of shattered brick and twisted rebar. The air stank of blood and death, tinged with fear. The people who had died here last night had not died quickly.

There was a movement like small creatures scuttling in a far corner. As Sasha’s eyes adjusted, he caught the shadow slinking along the edge. “Me left,” Kristina whispered.

Sasha let out a grunt of agreement and darted right, toward the moving creature. Before he reached his target, he heard an oof as Kristina found her own. There was a hiss, and as he closed on his prey, those terrible dark eyes reflected the light back at him.

The smell of that magic was overpowering, the air around them bitterly cold. Through it, he caught the hint of dhampir blood. Moving like a blur was a bearded man, scarred face and amber eyes glinting in the low light.

The man barreled into him, and Sasha let the momentum whip him around before smashing his fist into the man’s face. He shoved Sasha back and drew a gun, firing twice. Sasha dodged the first bullet and took the second to the thigh.

Wood. It hurt, but no worse than metal. Sasha ducked and drew his gun. They sometimes avoided firearms to keep from bringing the cops down on them, especially in the city. But the dhampir had crossed that line, so he was happy to follow suit and end this sooner.

Watching the man move, Sasha swung around and fired. The shot caught the dhampir in the arm as he barreled right into its path and reeled. Sasha lunged at him, ready to take off his head. As he aimed down at the man’s face,searing sunlight exploded in a burst of blinding white.

The light was all-consuming, impossibly bright, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why there was sunlight inside in the middle of the night. His muscles seized, and the heat pierced his skin, down to his bones. A woman screamed, and he dimly realized it was Kristina.

Instinctively covering his face, he backed away from the hunter to look for his mate. Something cold and clammy wrapped around his ankle, slithering up his leg before yanking him down to the ground. Silvery white tendrils exploded upward and enveloped him, drawing him down like a spiderweb.

And worse, he heard his Kristina, letting out soft sounds of pain. Meaty impacts and cracking bone… Someone was hurting her.

---