Page 110 of The Prince's Curse
Her casual tone masked her fear, but it was still a gut punch to hear her say it, awakening that howling terror deep in his mind. While Scarlett forced down another flask of the foul-smelling potion, he retreated into the hall to check his phone and walk off the panic threatening to overtake him.
If there was anyone who could fix this, it was Shoshanna York, especially now that she had Misha’s help. And no amount of him crawling up their asses would make things better. Instead, he had to do his job as the Elder of the court.
The Nightwatch had been dispatched to Armina’s known safehouses, carefully split up to keep several of them here in Atlanta. Some of the younger vampires had been sent along with the higher-ranked ones, along with former hunter Thomas Moon and Danielle Pierce, who was beside herself with excitement to be accompanying Paris on a real mission. Olivia was none too happy about it, but her sister was more than capable of protecting herself now that she had supernatural strength, and Paris would keep her out of trouble.
The evening’s first updates came from Kristina, who reported that Jonas Wynn was up and walking, though still in the hospital. Avery Martin was investigating an attack that had taken place near the wreckage of the Constitution building, Shea’s former stronghold. And Paris had reported that he and Danielle were an hour from Charlotte, where they’d check on the first of the safehouses.
He sent a quick text to Olivia.
Any word from Eslinger?
After much deliberation, he’d asked her to reach out to Jack Eslinger, the leader of the Shieldsmen in America. Until his daughter was forcibly turned and made him question his loyalty, Jonas Wynn had answered directly to Eslinger, who called the shots here. He didn’t know if Eslinger had any sway over Armina Voss, but he was willing to initiate communication.
The younger, more brash man of his past would have said fuck Jack Eslinger, and fuck the Shieldsmen. But the man who had lived through these last four centuries knew better. The Midnight War had been brutal, but necessary. Times were different now, and if sitting down with the man who would happily have his head on a platter meant peace for his court, then so be it.
But that required getting Eslinger in the room, or at the very least, on the phone, and so far, that had been a non-starter.
When Julian slipped back into the workshop, Kova glanced at him. “Anything yet?”
Julian shook his head. Scarlett looked feverish, her cheeks flushed bright as she leaned back in the chair. Her scent was nearly gone beneath that thick, unpleasant medicinal smell.
“Let’s give it a try,” Shoshanna said, nodding to Julian. He approached her, taking her arm and helping her up.
“Oh, shit,” Scarlett murmured, her legs buckling. Holding her carefully, Julian eased her down to the ground, where several large cushions had been laid out in the center of a large geometric design drawn in chalk. When she lay down, he carefully swept her long hair away from her face, prompting a soft smile that warmed his heart. “Thanks.”
While Shoshanna prepared a tray of tools, Misha lit several tall white candles. Finally, he glanced at Kova. “The lights, please,” he said. Without the overhead lights, the room was pleasantly dim, candles sending flickering shadows over Scarlett’s face.
“This feels spooky,” Scarlett commented.
Shoshanna let out a nervous laugh and crouched in front of her. “Hopefully not. I’m going to do my best to analyze this curse. If it hurts you, I need you to speak up.”
“I will,” Scarlett said. “Is that potion working?”
“We’re going to find out,” Shoshanna said.
He hadn’t seen her work like this, had only heard the others talking about it. As she settled onto the floor, she began to speak in French, her voice low at first, but taking on a powerful resonance. Even with no magical ability whatsoever, he felt a strange thrumming in the air, an electric tension that frightened him. The white chalk lines ignited with silvery light.
Julian glanced at Misha, looking for reassurance, but he was staring intently at Shoshanna. Half a dozen large red stones lay on the floor at his reach. After seeing her try to reach Scarlett before, he understood this was the emergency brake.
Scarlett gasped, back arching away from the cushions. Misha startled, one hand reaching out as if to touch her, but Shoshanna murmured, “It’s all right.”
His gut twisted with anxiety as he watched Scarlett’s chest heaving. The grassy scent of the pagos took on a strange smoky smell, as if it was burning away.
“Shoshanna,” Misha said quietly.
From behind, Julian could see the shadowy tendrils slithering across Shoshanna’s skin, up her neck and down her arms. Her form began trembling, and Julian blurted, “Do something!”
But Shoshanna released Scarlett and reeled backward, breathing rapidly like she’d just sprinted a mile. “I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her temples. “Scarlett, I need you to take another dose. It’s burning off too fast. I’m going to try something different.”
While Misha prepared another dose of the foul-smelling brew, Shoshanna took Scarlett’s hand. “I’m going to call on one of the spirits. She’s not exactly a friend, but she’s helped me before. And given how much Armina has twisted your fate, I think she could help. If you see something strange, just focus on my voice. There will be a light, or something else you can anchor onto. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
Scarlett nodded. “Okay,” she said, though her eyes cut to Kova. He inched closer, eyes fixed on her as he smiled.
“Shoshanna, are you sure?” Julian asked.
“I’m not sure of anything,” she said, closing her eyes as she began to speak again. Her brow furrowed, and then her posture went rigid. And then, it was as if time stopped. She was still as a statue, Scarlett’s hands clutched in hers.
“Are they?—”
