Page 66 of The Prince's Curse

“Jordan,” she murmured. She recognized the distinct blend of a pine-scented soap and his dhampir blood. The trail stopped at the curb, as if he’d loaded the body—the man, she corrected herself—into his truck. The scent stopped there, and she shook her head as Paris circled again.

Without being told, she hurried around to climb into the SUV again. She let out a sigh of relief as she shut the door and they pulled back into traffic.

After quickly relaying what she’d seen, she looked back at Julian, who looked grim and haunted. “I’m hesitant to say this in a car full of vampires,” she started.

“Say it,” Julian said.

“I’ve put wooden bullets through vampire skulls,” she said. “There would be a lot more blood than what I saw.”

“Could have lodged in bone. No exit wound,” Paris said.

“Could have been a dart instead. That’s what I hit you with two days ago.” She’d wanted to clear a path to get to Julian, and she wasn’t overly concerned with killing his bodyguards as much as keeping them out of her way.

Bullets were far more destructive, but the shot had to be perfect. With a poison dart, any contact was good, and would drop most targets for a few minutes. Plenty of time to get in close range and lop off heads.

Julian’s eyes were narrowed, still staring out the window. Something in her wanted to comfort him, to say he could be alive, but it didn’t seem like her place. And alive wasn’t necessarily better; Jordan might be eager to play out his revenge on any vampire he could.

Paris glanced back at Julian. “How do you want me to proceed?”

Julian’s dark brows knit together. “He’s one of ours. Until I see his body, treat this as if he’s a prisoner. Have Olivia pull the security footage and see if we can get anything useful.” He looked to Scarlett. “And if you think Jordan Cole grabbed him, then we might find him when we get to Armina’s place.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly.

“Misha, could you use my blood to find him the way you found Lilah Whitlock?” Julian asked.

“Did you turn Rhys?”

“No, but he’s bound to me through the Covenant,” he replied. “It’s a blood bond.”

Misha tilted his head. “I could. It’s a more complicated spell, but I’ll get to work on it when we get back. It might take a few days to build.”

“Make it happen,” Julian said.

She was stunned at their concern over the single vampire. When Thomas Moon and Henry Marks were taken, Jack Eslinger hadn’t batted an eye. There were no rescue missions. When Armina drained Oliver Marks’ blood to find his uncle Henry, it was to get them to the Auberon stronghold, not to free the prisoners. That was an added bonus.

The difference was utterly damning, and she realized she would never look at the Shieldsmen the same.

Paris was still on the phone relaying instructions to their human contact, Olivia, when he pulled over to park along the street at the bottom level of the Peachtree Center, where she’d done her quick shopping trip the day before.

Per their plan, she’d walk through the mall and down to the MARTA station to meet Jonas, where they’d plan and head to the hotel. Misha would drive around the hotel and drop the other two vampires off at a side entrance so they could keep watch. If all went well, they’d clear out together in fifteen minutes or less.

If not…

Well, they’d deal with that when it came. As she got out, Paris reached between the seats and held out a little black box, identical to the one Julian had planted on her. “What’s this?”

“If something happens, we can find you,” he said. His head tilted. “And if you don’t want to be found, then I guess you know what to do with it.”

She zipped it into an inner pocket of her jacket, then startled when Misha passed her a small vial. “And this is…”

“It’ll make you smell human,” he said. “If someone’s watching for you, you might have an easier chance of slipping past.”

She glanced at Julian, who nodded to her. Opening the bottle produced a grassy, medicinal smell.

“Two drops on your tongue,” he said.

She hesitated, then dropped the first onto her tongue. The acidic bite of it made her retch and cough. She gasped for air as an icy sensation washed over her. Misha snatched the bottle before she could drop it, and she leaned against the car, coughing violently.

“What’s wrong?” Julian blurted.

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