Page 37 of The Prince's Curse

My little bunny.

His words clung to her like spiderwebs, bouncing around in her head and echoing like wicked laughter. Scarlett hugged her backpack to her aching chest as the train rattled through the tunnels. She looked around, alert for the glint of red eyes.

“Next stop, Peachtree Center,” a tinny male voice announced over the intercom.

The adrenaline of the fight was wearing off, leaving her body heavy and achy. Her clothes were dirty, her hair disheveled, but the early morning commuters pointedly kept their eyes on their phones as she rose and hurried out of the train.

As soon as she stepped onto the platform, she cut away from the stairs and pressed herself against the tiled wall, breathing deep. A wet earth smell mingled with the ozone-electric of the train rails. Lots of humans, some unwashed, most smelling fresh with morning showers and toiletries. Dozens of tinny streams of music in earbuds, and the booming, unintelligible announcements of arrivals and departures.

She caught the faintest hint of Julian on her clothes, where he’d grabbed her. The memory sent a shiver through her, one that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Gritting her teeth, she shoved off the wall and stripped off her sooty, blood-spattered shirt. A couple of college boys in Georgia Tech shirts walked past, gaped at her, then snapped away like they were afraid they’d be busted for ogling. Quickly, she yanked a Georgia State University t-shirt down over her sports bra, put on a blue zip-up jacket, and covered her hair with an I Love Atlanta ballcap she’d bought earlier.

Fully disguised, she headed for the escalator and jolted at the sound of a terrible metallic screech. Adrenaline spiked through her as she whipped her head around to see the waiting crowd backing away from the train.

A pair of uniformed MARTA workers barreled through the crowd, one of them shouting, “Please get back!” In an undulating mass, the crowd rippled away from the platform’s edge.

Several bystanders were pointing upward, and she followed their gesture to see one of the digital signs that usually displayed the train schedule had fallen, leaving sparking wires hanging from the ceiling. Glass and twisted metal littered the platform below.

There were chirps of radios and tinny voices, and amidst the chaos she could hear a woman saying, the sign’s on the track, followed by a tinny male voice from a radio saying, clear the station.

Sparks erupted from the ceiling, prompting a chorus of shouts. One of the workers bellowed,

“Back away! Evacuate the station!”

The crowd was already pushing toward the stairs and the escalators toward street level, and she wove through them to get ahead before getting stuck in the crush. The smell of burnt ozone stung at her nostrils and sent a shiver down her spine. At least she hadn’t been close enough to get hurt.

Just breathe, she told herself as she slowly ascended the escalator.

Julian had obviously been expecting her, which made her wonder if she could trust Kova. He’d had two strong vampires with him, one with magic that smelled of blood and smoke. And they were stronger than expected. Usually a couple of poison darts would have put them down, and the smoke grenade should have dropped any stragglers. But they were still up and fighting when she got down to the ground, which concerned her.

When the dark-haired one used his magic, she was afraid it was all over. It had tangled over her skin, burning and scratching, but then something had surged out of her. Cold and powerful, as if Armina was there to shield her, just like when Shea attacked her in the woods.

It had left her feeling numb and unsteady, but it had also knocked the man back, leaving him useless long enough for her to get to Julian.

Thinking of him made her heart race, her stomach trying to crawl up her throat.

My little bunny. I loved you once.

No, no, no.

She fought to breathe normally, fighting back the creeping panic like it was an encroaching vampire. Soon, she smelled the exhaust of cars and heard the welcome sound of street noise. The air shifted as the escalator finally dumped her and her fellow passengers onto Peachtree Street. Upon her arrival the other day, she’d been frustrated to discover that there were a ridiculous number of streets called Peachtree, and the GPS didn’t know which one she wanted.

The morning sun glowed along the sidewalk, and she slowly surveyed her surroundings. It wasn’t impossible for vampires to be out in the day, but in direct sunlight they’d be no stronger than the average human. She still checked, then took a leisurely walk around the block in the opposite direction to make sure she hadn’t been followed. After picking up snacks and first aid supplies in the drugstore on the corner, she finally crossed the street and headed into her hotel.

Paranoia had her whipping her head back and forth, even knowing that it was broad daylight, even though there was no hint of vampire in the air. The world no longer made sense, and so it was perfectly possible that Julian Alcott might simply appear out of thin air to shatter what remained of her reality.

Sucking in air desperately to stave off the fear, she white-knuckled her backpack straps and headed for the elevator. One hand fished in her pocket for the hotel key.Her muscles trembled, and she reminded herself to breathe, just fucking breathe. She was an experienced vampire hunter, not some scared little rabbit.

My little bunny.

Her stomach lurched, and she fixed her attention on the elevator buttons, counting them silently to give her mind something else to do. Finally she reached her floor, practically sprinted to the room, and fumbled into her backpack for the hotel key.

Stripping as she went, she barreled for the bathroom and pondered the toilet. As sick as she felt, it wasn’t time to eject everything. Instead, she turned on the shower and climbed in, already scrubbing furiously at her skin.

She’d been so close to him, so close to death, and?—

No.

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