Page 8 of The Prince's Curse

“You’re still connected to her. And her to you. That’s good.”She drew a deep breath, then said, “I want to use your connection to find her. I want to see if I can analyze her curse from a distance. It’s an incredibly strong bond, and I’m stronger than I’ve ever been.”

“Could you break it from far away?” he asked, dabbing at his eye.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. As you said, you weren’t cursed. But I think I might be able to see her from afar. And I’m going to try to get her to come here.”

“You’re what?” he spluttered. “She’s already going to come. That’s the curse. She always comes, and she always?—”

Always dies. No matter what I do.

“But we’re ahead of schedule. And if the curse is based on her birthday, that gives me time to work. That’s assuming I can’t break it from here,” she said boldly.

“And what if you can’t?” he asked.

Shoshanna took a deep breath, then folded her smaller hands around his. He wanted to pull away, but something about her touch was as comforting as the house. And he knew, for all his depressive loathing, all his cynicism, she wanted to make things right. “If I can’t, then I’ll try again. And I’ll try again after that, and again until the last millisecond.”

“Why?”

Her eyes bored into his. “Because you’re part of our family. I’m not going to make you empty promises. Armina Voss is incredibly powerful, and this isn’t like anything we’ve dealt with before. But I’m also going to lay out the facts. I’ve undone six of her curses, including the ones your brothers told me I’d never be able to handle.” Her head tilted toward Misha. “And don’t get me started on this one. He found Carrigan Shea with a handful of rocks, then made a weapon that obliterated his Covenant in one stroke. You’ve got real power on your side, too.”

At that, Misha smiled. “And if you don’t mind me saying so, you’ll be no worse off than if she doesn’t try. Would you rather lie down on the train tracks and wait for the end, or at least try to fight back?”

His words were a punch to the gut. “You sound like Paris.”

“There’s a reason we get along well,” Misha said with a faint smile.

He stared down at those fine marks on Shoshanna’s arms for a while. Each was a mark of a curse broken, power and knowledge granted by forces he couldn’t comprehend.

Lifting his eyes to her, he said, “All right. But I have a request, too.”

“Anything I can do,” Shoshanna said.

He lifted his eyes. “Either of you. Whether this works or not, you find Armina Voss. For years, we didn’t go after her, especially after Alistair got cursed. We didn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt, and I held out hope I could undo what happened to Brigitte if we had enough time, but it’s gone on long enough. If she dies again, then—” His voice hitched. “Then this is the last time. I don’t care if I have to tear down the whole bloody world. I will kill Armina Voss if it’s the last thing I do.”

And truthfully, he hoped it might be.All the better if he went out with Armina’s blood on his teeth.

Shoshanna looked nervous, but Misha nodded. “We’ll do it. I’ve already been working out how to find her.”

“Have you been scheming for weeks?” Julian asked.

Shoshanna scoffed. “Months. I just roped him in once he decided to stick around,” she said playfully. “Let’s give this a try.”

“Right now?”

“Right now,” she said.

After shedding his coat, he settled onto the floor of her workshop, closing his eyes while she lit a few candles and spoke quietly in French. Her voice rose, taking on a rich resonance that soothed his nerves. Then a searing heat washed over him as she grasped his temples and pushed into his mind.

His vision exploded in a riot of color, and he found himself staring at the flames of a bonfire. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he whirled on his heel to see Brigitte.

Her fiery hair was caught back from her face, those full cheeks flushed as always, like she’d just come in from the sun. The pleasant bite of her dhampir blood mixed with light perfume and the scent of herbs on her hands.

“You’re staring,” she teased, tugging up her loose blouse to cover her shoulder.

“Because you’re so beautiful,” he managed.There were people around, some festival or another, but he was concerned only with her.

Then she poked the end of his nose. God, he had forgotten what that soft, warm skin felt like. Before she could pull away, he caught her wrist, pressing her palm to his cheek. Her fingers stroked his skin gently, and her playful expression turned to something softer.

“May I kiss you?” she asked.

---