Page 23 of The Prince's Curse

“Get him out of here,” Julian said, moving to Shoshanna just in case. He watched as Paris released the shackles on Kova’s wrists, then his ankles. And then their brother rose, not making a move toward the witch. He followed Paris, then froze at the doorway to the ransacked kitchen.

“I have one favor to ask,” Kova said. “Don’t tell Lucia I was here. I want to see her if…if things work out. If they don’t, I’d rather you told her I died.”

“Okay,” Shoshanna said quietly. “Good luck.”

Julian glanced at Nikko, then at Misha. Of the two of them, he wasn’t sure Nikko was the right one to make sure Paris didn’t go overboard. He gestured to Misha. “Please make sure they don’t kill him.”

Misha nodded grimly, and Julian sank to the cold tile floor to sit with Shoshanna. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue now, but she looked calmer. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay now. I want to help, but she’s so powerful.”

He gently cupped her cheeks and said, “You have done more for this court than I could have asked in a lifetime. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I want to help you. I know there’s not much time,” she said.

“I know you do. You’ve already helped more than you know,” he said.“But I need you to promise that you’ll be smart and not hurt yourself.”

Her brow creased, but her lips curved into a smile. “I’ll make that promise if you promise not to give up until the end.”

His throat tightened. How could he lie back and let the inevitable come when this feisty little human was fighting vampires and witches and fate itself? “I promise not to give up,” he agreed. “We fight this to the end.”

Chapter 6

This was hardly the first time that Scarlett had been here at the estate without Kova. He was not her keeper, but he was her friend. Deep down, she thought of him as her family, the way she imagined a big brother would be.

And with Lux’s strange, quiet vampires lurking in the shadows, she felt increasingly uncomfortable in the place that had long been her home.She wished Kova was here so she didn’t feel alone.

A few hours after Kova left the house, a black pickup truck rolled down the curving driveway. One of the security systems pinged, and she absently called out to the automation to quiet the alarm as she went to the front window.

Emerging from the truck were two familiar hunters – Marlee Montgomery and Jordan Cole. She hadn’t seen Marlee since their attack on Infinity. They’d hunted as a team along with Theo Byrne, but he’d been killed in Atlanta after Scarlett was pulled off the mission.

And it had been more than a year since she last worked with Jordan, though she’d cleaned up his mess in Atlanta after he antagonized Rachel Ryan and left Thomas with orders to kidnap her kid. The Auberon had captured Jordan before she arrived. Sometime later, he was ultimately freed in a trade with the Auberon, but all she’d heard was that he was alive and intended to keep hunting.

Scarlett walked out to greet them, though they shared no jovial recognition or smiles. Both the hunters were dhampir like her, the scent of their blood strong in the air. Marlee carried a huge bag over one shoulder, her springy curls bound back in a headband. “Sorry we’re late,” she said, her voice flat. “Big accident on 85.”

A loud bang startled Scarlett, and she whipped around to see Jordan unlatching the tailgate to grab a black plastic crate. He was thinner than she remembered, his cheeks gaunt over the thick beard that hugged his jaw. Twisted scars snaked over his left cheekbone and his forehead, disappearing into his thick hair. “Where’s the witch?” he asked.

“Ms. Voss is inside,” she said hesitantly. “You’re here to help hunt the Auberon?”

Marlee nodded, but Jordan spoke first, his voice low and rough. “Not just hunt. Destroy.” He’d never been particularly personable, but the coldness to his voice unsettled her.

“Good,” Scarlett said. But the word felt too large, difficult to spit over her tongue as she led the other hunters into the house.

Brusque introductions were made before Stella ushered them into the living room, where Armina waited to welcome the two hunters. Nestled into an oversized chair with her hair immaculately styled in a twist, she looked like a queen welcoming her subjects rather than a woman who’d just been laid low by magic. She even wore an embroidered shawl that reminded Scarlett of a cape, draped over her narrow shoulders and down to the floor.

“It’s good of you to make the drive,” Armina said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Marlee said, settling onto the long leather couch. “We were?—”

“Eslinger gave orders,” Jordan interrupted, planting himself—and his filthy boots—in the middle of the newly vacuumed rug. Brawny arms folded across his chest in a defiant pose. “What’s the target?”

“Mind your manners,” Armina said archly.

“We didn’t come all this way to—” The man’s voice cut off, a thin sound whistling through his lips as his eyes went wide. His light green eyes darkened with filaments of oily black, as if Armina’s magic was filling his veins.

The antique lamps flickered, casting the room in an unsettling shadow. Armina’s eyes glinted as she cocked her head. “I am not one of your redneck hunting companions, nor am I Jack Eslinger. You speak to me with respect, or you will not speak to me at all. Do you understand?”

His eyes narrowed, and one hand twitched toward his thigh as if he intended to draw a weapon. Scarlett shifted in her seat, ready to pounce. But he finally nodded, letting out a quiet sigh when she released her magical hold on him.

---