Chapter 10

It was one thing for Armina Voss to send Kova to kill her. Since getting involved with the Auberon vampires, she'd been threatened and kidnapped and run out of her own house multiple times. At this point, it was becoming a bit passé.

And of course, she'd been quite concerned for Alistair's wounds, from which he was recovering thanks to Rhys Collins' excellent care, one of Misha's high-octane potions, and a few loving bites from her neck.

But Kova had made an absolute mess of their beautiful home. Allie's blood had soaked into one of their luxurious plush rugs, and several pieces of antique furniture were smashed to pieces. Several windows shattered, which had let in rain and bugs. And poor Magneto was still hiding under the bed in his downstairs room, jumping at every little sound.

Since the attack, she'd asked Elijah and her mother to be careful, even offering to pay for private security or to have them move down here. Both had declined, saying they would take their own measures. They'd lived for years with her father, who had worked for the Casteron vampires. And she hated to admit that Elijah was right when he scoffed and asked if it was really safer for him to walk right into the lion's den with her rather than keeping his distance.

She was concerned by how Kova had walked right through her powerful protections. Then he'd broken a glass globe that wreaked havoc on her magic, like it was reflecting her own power back on her. Amidst the shattered glass she'd found a fine gray residue that she'd scooped into a vial. Even without her arcane sight, looking at it made her stomach turn. It reeked of Night Weaver magic, the same she'd sensed when they approached the boundary around Carrigan Shea's court, and the same that had slithered over her skin when she reached across the veil to find Scarlett Ward through a tenuous soulmate bond. That was Armina Voss's power, and it was terrifying to realize that she was as formidable as Shoshanna had always feared…and now she was gunning for her. Now it was personal.

Alistair had told her not to worry about cleaning the house; they could hire contractors to do the repairs and deep clean. But with him still recovering and Armina Voss out there plotting, this gave her the tiniest bit of control. She was wrestling back the fear with elbow grease and wood polish, restoring the shine and peace to her home.

Thankfully the piano had suffered only cosmetic damage, with a few scratches on the lid. They needed a new bench; there was no recovering the one that had been crushed under Alistair's weight. She carefully straightened the stack of music that had been stored inside, alphabetizing by composer.

When she was done, she slipped downstairs to peek in on him. Even with the thin wedge of light spilling from the bedroom door, he was sound asleep, his skin still too pale after his tangle with Kova.

He could have died. And there was nothing she could have done to bring him back.

She stared at him, the ferocious, loyal man that she loved, and tried not to rattle apart at the thought of it. After getting over his fury at Kova's invasion, he'd assured her that he was fine; that if Kova had meant to kill him, he would be dead.

But that didn't sink in. Her mind still couldn't wrap itself around the sight of him lying there, blood bubbling over the lips that kissed her, his neck broken, body twisted in a way that she should never have witnessed. The sheer fury of it had nearly overwhelmed her.

While she waited for Paris and Sasha, she'd seriously considered going down to the well-stocked armory, picking out the particularly heavy, wickedly sharp axe from Alistair's collection, and ending the Kova problem while he lay unconscious and defenseless on her kitchen floor. He had to be punished for such a soulless, cruel act.

And then Lucia would feel the same anguish she did. The thought of that woman—her friend—had stopped her dead in her tracks.She owed Lucia the chance to see her lover again, even if he had made some seriously questionable choices since they parted.

From the bedroom door, she murmured, "I love you. Sleep well," then closed the door quietly. As the door sealed shut with its soundproofed foam seal, she felt a strange tug at her chest. Ice flooded her veins, and it felt as if a massive hand was pushing her back into the door.

Light danced in front of her eyes, and she could see the massive, overlapping rings of her spells that surrounded the house. Like a map unfurling in front of her, she saw the threads that were igniting, but there was no sense of security, no sense that they had trapped their prey.

Someone was here, and they were walking right through her wards like they didn't exist.

Not again.

She gritted her teeth, shoved the door open, and said, "Allie. Wake up."

Her vision went dark, and then there was a whipping sting as if her own magic had snapped back on her again. With her blood going cold, she pounced onto the bed and shook Alistair awake. His blue-green eyes eased open, and he began to smile as he always did when she woke to see her. It lasted only a split second before he frowned and sat bolt upright. "What's wrong?"

"Someone's here," she said, shivering against the bone-deep cold radiating from inside her. "Could be Armina. The magic is all wrong."

He took her arm and slid past her, leading the way up the stairs. "You stay down here," he said. Then, even stranger than that sense of cold…the doorbell rang, followed by three soft knocks on the door. "Did you order something?"

"Unless the UPS driver is an incredibly powerful Night Weaver, it's not that," she said irritably, starting up the stairs from the basement.

He put out a hand and said, "Please stay. Let me."

Another soft knock at the door, and terror prickled down her spine. She couldn't let him open the door and take a blast of magic to the face. Pushing past her fear, she clambered up the stairs and grabbed a gun from the drawer in the kitchen island. Paris Rossignol had taught her well; there were weapons in every room of the house, and she checked them every day.

Alistair was peering at the small screen next to the door. "It's Scarlett," he said quietly. "Should we?—"

The door shuddered, then flew open with a wrenching, splintering sound. Sunlight poured through the doorway, sending Alistair reeling.

Shoshanna's heart thundered as a red-haired woman stepped across the threshold and into their home. Cold billowed through the room, sending an icy bite across Shoshanna's skin. Her vision pulsed, shimmering dark spots at the edges like she was developing a migraine.

The red-haired womansaid, "I'm sorry. I heard your voices and I was getting tired of waiting. Are you Shoshanna?"

"That's me," Shoshanna said mildly.

Scarlett's eyes flicked to Alistair, who was poised to attack. His fangs glinted against his lip, eyes brilliant red. "I just came to ask you questions. Can he leave?" the dhampir woman asked.

Alistair barked a laugh. "Your mistress sent a vampire here to kill my wife less than a week ago. I'm staying."

Scarlett looked down to the gun in Shoshanna's hands. "Do you think you can shoot me before I get my hands on you?"

"Do you think that's a good way to start a civil conversation?" Shoshanna asked, hoping her voice wasn't trembling.

At that, Scarlett smiled, though it was a forced expression, one that didn't take away the wariness in her eyes. As she stood there, still as a statue, her expression shifted to one of genuine fear. She suddenly backed up to the door and stammered, "I don't know why— I shouldn't have come here."

"Wait," Shoshanna said. "You do know why you came here. Are you alone, or is Kova with you?"

"It's only me. I didn't come to hurt you," she said.Her green eyes drifted to her gun, which she slowly holstered before showing her empty hands.

Feeling the way she had that first night that she asked Alistair to play the piano with her, Shoshanna pointed to the kitchen. "Come have a cup of tea."

"Shoshanna," Alistair said quietly. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais?" What are you doing?

She nodded to him. "It's okay," she said in English. "Come in. Let's sit and talk."

Alistair stared at Scarlett while Shoshanna sidled over to the kitchen island, shifting the chairs around to put the large slab of stone between them. She turned on the electric kettle, laying her gun at arm's reach.Scarlett might be fast, but Alistair was definitely faster.

Scarlett's pretty green eyes drifted to Alistair. "Can he leave?"

"No," Alistair said flatly.

"It's all right," Shoshanna said. Her eyes slid to her phone on the kitchen island. If she could just text Olivia…

Scarlett reached out lightning quick to grab it and said, "Please don't call anyone," as if she hadn't just removed the option. She powered the phone off, then set it down in front of her. Her fingers drummed across the stone counter for a few moments before she drew a deep breath. "What did you tell Kova? He was supposed to kill you and he didn't.He couldn't get the words out, but he said you gave him hope things could be better. What did he mean?"

Shoshanna glanced at Alistair. He shook his head slightly.

"I gave him hope that I could break Armina's hold on him," Shoshanna finally said.

"So he can kill people again?"

"No. So he can be free," Shoshanna said. "He's not a killer."

"Well…" Alistair muttered.

Scarlett swallowed hard, then leaped back as the tea kettle began to whistle.

"Can I make a cup of tea without startling you?" Shoshanna asked. The other woman nodded, watching her warily as she took down two cups and prepared them. When she put the paper bags into the cups, Alistair's nose wrinkled. Under less tense circumstances she might have teased him about judging her given that he hadn't drunk tea, properly made or otherwise, in two hundred years.

She placed both cups on the island along with the sugar and milk, then sat back to let Scarlett choose. The young woman took one of the cups and curled her hands around it without drinking it. Heart pounding, Shoshanna prepared her own, then sat down again to watch her.

"You came to me in a dream. I didn't see you, but Armina said you had attacked me," Scarlett finally said. "But your magic feels different than hers."

"I didn't attack you. I was trying to reach out to you and get you to come here," Shoshanna said. "How did you see me?"

Her cheeks flushed as she looked up. "I didn't actually see you. I dreamed about Julian. We…we danced."

Having spoken at length to her soulmate and his brothers about how they'd first felt the pull of the soulmate bond, she knew that the dream was probably a great deal more vivid than dancing, but she let the woman keep her secrets. "And it was a good dream? Did it feel safe?"

"I don't want you inside my head," Scarlett spat.

"Okay. I'm not inside your head," Shoshanna said. "Don't you think if I could mind-control you, I'd have stopped you from kicking my door down? I'm still cleaning up the mess Kova made."

The dhampir woman sipped her tea, regarded Shoshanna suspiciously, then set it down. "Did you make me see him that way so I wouldn't want to kill him?"

"I didn't make you see anything. All I did was reach out to you. Your mind filled in the rest," she said. When was it time to spring the truth on her?

"He killed my parents. There's no way I could see him like that without trickery," Scarlett said vehemently.

Alistair shook his head. "He didn't. Armina Voss has been lying to you for your whole life."

Shoshanna expected the other woman to scoff and argue, but Scarlett held Alistair's gaze and said, "You're not the first person to suggest that."

"What does that tell you?" Shoshanna said mildly.

Scarlett stared down at the teacup as she continued. "Kova is one of my only friends. He's been kind to me, and she hurt him when he came back from here. I want you to break her spell on him so he can tell me the truth."

"Oh," Shoshanna said. "You trust him that much?"

"I don't know if I can trust him without her magic, but I need to know what she's keeping him from saying," Scarlett said. She let out a nervous laugh. "I feel like everyone around me is in on a secret."

Well, at least she was smart.

Alistair leaned across the counter. "What has she told you about Julian?"

At that, Scarlett's hands tightened around the cup. "That he killed my family."

"Is that all?" he asked.

"My mother was a veravin, and she trusted the Auberon vampires until they killed my dad," she said, unfolding a tale of woe. As she spoke, Shoshanna took advantage of her distraction to peer through her arcane sight.

Cold blistered across her skin, down her throat, into her belly as if she'd plunged into glacial water and inhaled. The foul stench of it made her shudder internally. Scarlett's form was bound in dark threads, as if a spider had sealed her into a cocoon of pure darkness. Tendrils danced away from her, pushing out like coronas from a black sun.

This was like nothing she'd ever seen. The curses laid on Alistair and the others were mere parlor tricks compared to this. The markings on her arms ignited, and two lashes of shadow shot out from Scarlett to push back at her. Shoshanna recoiled, and the other woman frowned at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just curious about the magic surrounding you," Shoshanna said, her heart still pounding in that cold waste of her chest.

Alistair shook his head. "Scarlett, it's a long and complicated story. But look in my eyes. I swear to you that Julian Alcott did not kill your mother and father. He has loved you for a long time."

"How?" she said. "When I was a baby?"

"No. It's… Look, Armina's obviously filled your head with lies," Alistair said. "If we call Julian, he'll be here in half an hour, and he can answer whatever you want to know. He wants to help you."

"Don't call him. I shouldn't have come here," Scarlett said, lurching to her feet and knocking over the teacup with a clatter. The dhampir woman bolted for the door, and Shoshanna took a risk. She plucked one of the powerful threads of magic embedded into the house, trying to latch onto Scarlett.

Darkness burst across her vision, and she watched as the tendrils coalesced at her back, disintegrating Shoshanna's magic like sand. Scarlett sprinted through the door, and Shoshanna fell back as the sting of her magic snapped back at her again.

Alistair swore, then knelt next to her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Call Julian," she said, lying back on the cold tile. Her frustration boiled over. "Why did you suggest calling him here?"

"I thought it would help," he said.

She threw up her hands in frustration, and he was quiet as he went to retrieve his phone from downstairs. His voice was muffled through the floor, but he creaked his way back upstairs to join her. Gently, he took her hand, helped her up, and guided her to sit on the couch.

"I didn't mean to snap at you," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

His hand skimmed over her knee and squeezed. "It's all right."

"Your instincts were correct. We have to get them together somehow. I just…" She looked up to meet his eyes. "Allie, I've never seen anything like the magic surrounding her. She just walked right through all my spells like they weren't there. It's almost like the curse is pushing everything else back. I don't know if I can help her."

"Shoshanna York," he said sternly. "Are you telling me that you doubt yourself?"

"A little," she dared.His arm curled around her and pulled her in close, and despite everything, she felt safe in his embrace. The closeness pushed back the cold of Scarlett's curse and the anxiety of her invasion. She rested her head against his chest for a while before she spoke again. "What if I can't help her?"

"Then you'll be the same as the rest of us mere mortals," he replied. "Not one of us has been able to stop this in the past." He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering as he spoke. "And if it fails, it is not your fault. I cannot imagine how much hate and malice Armina Voss has woven into her magic over the years."

"It sounds like you're preparing me to fail," she said.

"I think you need to be prepared for that," he said. She pulled back and frowned up at him. Then he gently cupped her cheek. "I also think that if anyone on this planet is capable of helping her, it's you. And as long as you don't destroy yourself to do it, I will back you all the way to the end."

Her throat tightened. "Thank you. I love you."

"I love you," he said. "Which is a much easier task than loving me, I assure you."

At that, she laughed. "Come on. You need to go back to bed. I have a feeling we're in for a long night once Julian hears the news."