Page 37 of A Curse for True Love (Once Upon a Broken Heart)

Evangeline went numb all over. It was one thing for someone to want her dead, another to learn they wanted to torture her.

“Did they say why?” Evangeline asked.

The assassin clamped his mouth shut.

“Don’t be rude. The princess asked you a question.” Archer lifted the man higher and roughly shook him by the neck until his head rocked to the side. “Answer her.”

“I dunno why,” the man spit out. “I was just told to make it hurt.”

Archer’s nostrils flared.

“You’re lucky that I’m kinder than your employer.” He cocked his golden head, looking almost thoughtful. “This will hurt, but not for long.” Then he took his knife and stabbed the assassin in the heart.

18Evangeline

The assassin fell to the floor with an ugly thud. He twitched, convulsed—Evangeline wasn’t quite sure of the proper words, only that he didn’t die immediately.

It was all rather horrifying, but she couldn’t say she was sorry. She could still feel her own blood staining the robe she held to her chest. It had been such a pretty gown, periwinkle blue and lined in delicate cream lace that was turning dark with the welling blood.

The assailant made a few gurgling sounds that resembled curses.

“You’re wasting your last words,” said Archer. “I’m already damned.” He leaned down and twisted his knife. When he pulled it out, blood spattered on his dark cloak and the pale shirt he wore beneath it, but he didn’t appear to care.

He stepped over the body and stalked along the edge of the bed, glowering at Evangeline.

“Why is it that people are always trying to kill you?” His voice was low, on the edge of something deadly. “You need to be more careful.”

“How is this my fault?”

“You have no sense of self-preservation.” Archer took another angry step. “If someone labeled a bottlepoison,you would drink it. You take warnings as invitations. You can’t seem to stay away from all the things that will hurt you.”

Like me.

She swore she heard the last two words in her head as he took another step toward her until he was standing so close, she could practically feel the hot fury pouring off him.

She needed to back away, to call her for guards, to tell him to leave. Her heart pounded impossibly fast.

But she found herself saying, “You’re not here to hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “This morning I nearly tossed you over the side of a bridge.”

“You also just killed someone to save my life.”

“Maybe I just enjoy killing people.” Archer wiped his bloody blade on the sheets, but his blazing eyes never left hers. He still looked furious and feral. There was blood on his hands, and his eyes were shot through with it as well. Yet she’d never wanted anyone more.

She must have lost her mind sometime during the night because she wanted him to move closer. She wanted his hands onher. She wanted him holding her, restraining her, teaching her to fight. She didn’t care, as long as they were touching.

She told herself it was just the fear, the excitement, the blood rushing through her. It would fade in a minute. But the mad part of her didn’t want it to vanish.

Before she could think better of it, Evangeline reached for his hand.

The touch was electric. As soon as her fingers found his, the world started spinning. Her room turned into a kaleidoscope of night and sparks, and suddenly she was elsewhere.

She was in another memory.

It was dark and wet and for a second, she couldn’t breathe.

The icy water hit hard as earth. She thrashed on instinct, but someone held her tightly. His arms were unyielding, dragging her up through the crushing waves. Salt water snaked up her nose, and the cold filled her veins. She was coughing and sputtering, barely able to suck down air as he swam to the shore with her in tow. He held her close and carried her from the ocean as if his life depended on it instead of hers.

---