Page 41 of The Prince's Curse

From the bedroom door, she murmured, “I love you. Sleep well,” then closed the door quietly. As the door sealed shut with its soundproofed foam seal, she felt a strange tug at her chest. Ice flooded her veins, and it felt as if a massive hand was pushing her back into the door.

Light danced in front of her eyes, and she could see the massive, overlapping rings of her spells that surrounded the house. Like a map unfurling in front of her, she saw the threads that were igniting, but there was no sense of security, no sense that they had trapped their prey.

Someone was here, and they were walking right through her wards like they didn’t exist.

Not again.

She gritted her teeth, shoved the door open, and said, “Allie. Wake up.”

Her vision went dark, and then there was a whipping sting as if her own magic had snapped back on her again. With her blood going cold, she pounced onto the bed and shook Alistair awake. His blue-green eyes eased open, and he began to smile as he always did when she woke to see her. It lasted only a split second before he frowned and sat bolt upright. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s here,” she said, shivering against the bone-deep cold radiating from inside her. “Could be Armina. The magic is all wrong.”

He took her arm and slid past her, leading the way up the stairs. “You stay down here,” he said. Then, even stranger than that sense of cold…the doorbell rang, followed by three soft knocks on the door. “Did you order something?”

“Unless the UPS driver is an incredibly powerful Night Weaver, it’s not that,” she said irritably, starting up the stairs from the basement.

He put out a hand and said, “Please stay. Let me.”

Another soft knock at the door, and terror prickled down her spine. She couldn’t let him open the door and take a blast of magic to the face. Pushing past her fear, she clambered up the stairs and grabbed a gun from the drawer in the kitchen island. Paris Rossignol had taught her well; there were weapons in every room of the house, and she checked them every day.

Alistair was peering at the small screen next to the door. “It’s Scarlett,” he said quietly. “Should we?—”

The door shuddered, then flew open with a wrenching, splintering sound. Sunlight poured through the doorway, sending Alistair reeling.

Shoshanna’s heart thundered as a red-haired woman stepped across the threshold and into their home. Cold billowed through the room, sending an icy bite across Shoshanna’s skin. Her vision pulsed, shimmering dark spots at the edges like she was developing a migraine.

The red-haired womansaid, “I’m sorry. I heard your voices and I was getting tired of waiting. Are you Shoshanna?”

“That’s me,” Shoshanna said mildly.

Scarlett’s eyes flicked to Alistair, who was poised to attack. His fangs glinted against his lip, eyes brilliant red. “I just came to ask you questions. Can he leave?” the dhampir woman asked.

Alistair barked a laugh. “Your mistress sent a vampire here to kill my wife less than a week ago. I’m staying.”

Scarlett looked down to the gun in Shoshanna’s hands. “Do you think you can shoot me before I get my hands on you?”

“Do you think that’s a good way to start a civil conversation?” Shoshanna asked, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling.

At that, Scarlett smiled, though it was a forced expression, one that didn’t take away the wariness in her eyes. As she stood there, still as a statue, her expression shifted to one of genuine fear. She suddenly backed up to the door and stammered, “I don’t know why— I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Wait,” Shoshanna said. “You do know why you came here. Are you alone, or is Kova with you?”

“It’s only me. I didn’t come to hurt you,” she said.Her green eyes drifted to her gun, which she slowly holstered before showing her empty hands.

Feeling the way she had that first night that she asked Alistair to play the piano with her, Shoshanna pointed to the kitchen. “Come have a cup of tea.”

“Shoshanna,” Alistair said quietly. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais?” What are you doing?

She nodded to him. “It’s okay,” she said in English. “Come in. Let’s sit and talk.”

Alistair stared at Scarlett while Shoshanna sidled over to the kitchen island, shifting the chairs around to put the large slab of stone between them. She turned on the electric kettle, laying her gun at arm’s reach.Scarlett might be fast, but Alistair was definitely faster.

Scarlett’s pretty green eyes drifted to Alistair. “Can he leave?”

“No,” Alistair said flatly.

“It’s all right,” Shoshanna said. Her eyes slid to her phone on the kitchen island. If she could just text Olivia…

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