Page 77 of The Prince's Curse

“No, no, she doesn’t want it broken,” she protested. Filaments of black threaded across her pretty green eyes, and he smelled the musty-death scent of Night Weaver magic. The thought of Armina controlling her mind made him even angrier.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“No, I just?—”

“Then ignore it,” he said, gritting his teeth as he wrenched the cuff apart with a primal growl. Searing heat licked at his fingers, and Scarlett recoiled with a yelp as she clutched her wrist. Scorch marks covered her forearm, but the chain fell to the ground between them with a metallic clatter. “Are you all right? That looks?—”

“I’m fine,” she blurted. “We need to get downstairs to Kova. He’s in the basement.”

Low chanting caught his ears, and he shivered as cold rolled through the house. The low lights went dark as the house was clouded in unnatural darkness. It was not the deep dark of distant woods, untouched by city lights, nor even the sealed off chambers of their many vampire-built homes. This was all-consuming, as if the darkness was a thick substance that filled the room.

A woman’s quiet voice filled his hearing. It was barely a whisper, the words unintelligible, but he felt it like she was speaking directly in his ear, cold breath puffing against his skin. The bracelet on his wrist vibrated, as if it was reacting to the spell. A faint glow issued from the metal, and he raised it to find a small sphere of illumination around himself, pushing back the witch’s magic.

Feeling for Scarlett’s arm, Julian pulled the dhampir woman close, trying not to get distracted when she put her hands against his chest and stared up at him. The faint light from the bracelet cast a glow against her green eyes.“How do we get Kova out?” he asked.

“Armina or one of her apprentices has to open the door,” Scarlett said. “Stay with me so I can see.” She gently pushed him ahead, holding his elbow tightly as he headed down the hall. “Third door past this one.”

Someone swore loudly in French, followed by a violent crash. The house trembled, and a wave of sweltering heat washed over him. Instinct told him to check on his brothers, but he had to trust them to do what he’d asked.Olivia had told him to lead, and they would follow. He prayed they would.

Scarlett pushed him down the hall, undeterred by the rattling frame of the house. He was startled when the faint light from his bracelet caught on a framed photo of a red-haired woman with Armina Voss. She didn’t just look like Scarlett; she was Scarlett, her hair shorter than this time, eyes full of sadness even as she smiled.

His stomach twisted in a knot as he remembered the way she’d come to him, hands shaking with that gun in her hand. He hadn’t put up a fight. He’d knelt in front of her, let her put that gun to his head, and told her to pull the trigger if that would finally let her be free.

But it had ended the same as always. Her hand slipped, and the gun jammed as it fired. One shot, right to the heart. And as always, she lay in his arms as recognition lit up those eyes for a scant second before they went dim in death.

It would be different this time, or he would die trying.

Scarlett caught his elbow to stop him. In the faint glow of his bracelet, he saw Scarlett press her ear to the wooden door. Then she reared back and kicked it open in a cacophony of wrenching wood and screaming hinges. A woman inside shrieked, and Scarlett darted in. Julian followed, finding a petite, dark-haired witch. Her eyes glinted golden even in the deep shadow.

As she started to weave her hands together, Scarlett twisted her arm behind her and covered her mouth. “No more of that,” she said. “Drop the spell.”

There was a muffled curse, then a yelp as Scarlett wrenched the woman’s arm behind her.

“I won’t ask as nicely the next time,” she said calmly.“It’ll be awfully hard to do your spells with broken fingers.”

Suddenly, the darkness dissipated, leaving his ears ringing like the pressure had abruptly changed. The witch stared at Julian with fury in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” Julian said.

He followed Scarlett’s directions to head down the hall to the stairs again. She followed him, leading the dark-haired witch by the arm. They hurried down the stairs as someone bellowed in pain in the far corner of the house.

Trust your people, he told himself.

Just before the kitchen,Scarlett shoved open a door that led to descending steps. “Take her down there. I’ll go and get whatever I can from the workshop,” she said.

For the first time, he put his foot down with her. “No,” he said, catching her arm lightly. Her brow furrowed in irritation. “I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“I can?—”

“I know you can protect yourself,” he said. “I know how strong you are and that you can do this alone. But you don’t have to anymore.”

Her eyes glinted, but she nodded and pushed the human witch toward him. She started to scream, but Julian squeezed her throat enough to make a point, then secured his hand over her mouth. She tried to kick her feet against him,so he picked her up entirely and hauled her down the stairs.

The smell of vampire blood was thick in the air, woven with dark magic. The dark concrete floor was splattered with dried blood, though the air smelled of bleach. A harsh fluorescent light glowed in the big chamber, though the barred cells along one side seemed to ooze with shadow.

And there at the bars stood Kova, his face ghostly pale. His jaw dropped as they approached. “Julian?” he croaked.

“Someone wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said.

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