Chapter 28

When Julian awoke with the scent of Scarlett still heavy in the air, he stared at the ceiling and smiled. There was the sweetness of her hair, the familiar soap of laundry detergent, tinged with the faintest hint of Olivia who'd loaned her clothes. And there was her, as familiar as the first day they'd met. She was on his lips, on his tongue, on his fingers.

For a moment, he remembered what it was like to wake up with her stroking his cheek, the heavy weight of daylight leaving him with each gentle caress. Turning his head, he found himself alone in bed. He sat bolt upright, fear shoving away his contentment.

"Scarlett?" he asked, looking around frantically. He stopped long enough to pull on his pants before bursting out of the bedroom and into the hall. "Scarlett!"

God, no. Her birthday had come and gone, and if Shoshanna's theory was right, then?—

"In my workshop," Shoshanna called from down the hall. In a split second, he was through the door, still wrapped in that wash of dread and panic. Her dark eyes were filled with concern as she looked up at him. "She's here."

Scarlett sat in a chair across from Shoshanna. When she looked up and smiled at him, he fought the urge to go to her and cage her in his arms. How was he supposed to protect her if he slept? Damned fool.

"Have you made any progress?" he asked.

"We've been working at it," Shoshanna said. She glanced at Scarlett. "The curse is complex, but at least it's not burning my retinas to look at her now."

He hesitated. "So something has changed, then. As you expected."

The human witch nodded."It's like Ursula suggested. Almost like a layer has been peeled back."

"How long will it take to figure out?"

"A while," Shoshanna said. "It's still taxing for both of us."

"Tonight?"

She shook her head. "Definitely not. I'm sorry. Maybe two more days."

That was an eternity, so much time for Armina's malice to catch up to her. In the past, it had happened within hours. They couldn't wait. He held back his concerns, knowing it would only make the two women even more tense. Instead, he asked, "Is there anything I can do to help it along?"

Shoshanna gave him a tentative smile. "Honestly, the best thing you can do is go find something to keep yourself busy. Unless you've become a magic expert during the day, there's nothing I need. And surely you have work to do as the court's Elder."

"Was that a very nice way of telling me to fuck off and find something to do?" he asked.

Her eyebrows arched as she flashed her bright white grin at him.

"Perhaps you should take over the court in my stead. You are much wiser than I am," he said.

"Way too much responsibility," she said sweetly. Then she nudged Scarlett. "Why don't you take a little break? I know you want to give him a kiss."

Scarlett's cheeks flushed. "How do you?—"

"I can see the soulmate bond, and it's like a neon sign now that he's in the room," Shoshanna said with an indulgent smile. "I get it. Bring me some coffee and a snack when you come back, please."

Scarlett hurried to the door and closed it behind her. Her lips curved into a smile as she rose on her toes for a kiss, warm hands sliding over his bare chest. Hunger growled in his chest as he grabbed her waist and lifted her easily, pressing her to the wall as she let out a surprised oh! into his open lips.

"Good evening to you, too," she said with a laugh. He sealed her laughter with a lingering kiss, then pulled back. She gazed at him, clearly not bothered by being pinned to the wall with her legs around his waist. "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "I was worried when I woke up without you."

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. So, I thought I'd let Shoshanna get a head start on figuring this out." She gently pushed at his shoulder, and he let her down, though he took her hand and followed her downstairs. As she went to pour a cup of coffee, Shoshanna's cat crept out from under a table and hissed at her, his fur standing on end. "I know, I creep you out."

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Shoshanna thinks he can sense Armina's magic on me," she said, eyeing the little feline. When she moved toward him, he bolted. With a sigh, Scarlett opened the refrigerator and took out a bright green bottle of creamer, then pointed to the crisper drawer. "Hungry?"

"Starving," he said.

She handed him a blood bag from the drawer, smiling faintly. "You want me to warm it up for you? I hate to break it to you, but even after being reincarnated six times, I still don't know how to cook."

He forced a laugh, though it felt more like the huff of being punched in the gut. Before he could say anything, she shook her head and said, "Sorry. I shouldn't joke. Maybe someday it will be funny."

"Maybe," he said weakly, reaching over her to take a glass from the cabinet. After pouring the contents into a glass, he put it in the microwave. "Are you doing all right with Shoshanna's work?"

Her smile faded. "It's not fun. I keep having visions of dying. And they feel very real. Visions…maybe memories. I don't know. But I'll be fine. Better a couple nasty visions than dying for real, huh?"

She pawed through the fridge and took out a pitcher. Rising on her toes, she opened a nearby cabinet, then flinched as glasses clattered out. "Shit," she swore, clapping one hand to her neck. The smell of blood pierced the air, and he watched in horror as red trickled through her fingers.

"Scarlett," he muttered, grabbing the closest dishtowel and pressing it to her neck. His feet crunched over broken glass as he walked her to a barstool and sat her down. "Sit there."

"That was weird," she said.

"Everything okay down there?" Shoshanna called. "I thought I heard something break."

"Just dropped some glasses. I'm sorry, I'll clean it up," Julian called back. He'd been here enough to know his way around, and he fetched a broom and dustpan to clean up the broken glass.

While he painstakingly swept every inch of the kitchen, fearing shards of glass in feline paws, Scarlett cleared her throat and said, "You should know that I called Armina."

"You what?" he spluttered, lurching upright with a pan of glass shards.

"I hate sitting around here waiting for you all to solve my problems," she said, peering at the red-soaked towel. "All I can do is let Shoshanna drug me and lay there while she digs around in my mind. In my soul, maybe. I hate this."

"What did she say?" he asked. "Did she make you an offer?"

She shook her head. "I thought she might. Some stupid part of me thought if I was genuine, maybe she'd let it go. And she might as well have told me to fuck off. She told me I'd picked a side and now I was stuck with it." Her breath caught, and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I am done crying over this."

"It's all right to be afraid," he said.

"No," she said sharply, shaking her head. "I'm done. Now I'm just angry. And I don't want her to suffer, but I'm done standing up for her, too. I can't forget that she cared for me, but I know now that it doesn't matter, if that ever did. She doesn't care who she hurts."

He hated to see her in turmoil, but there was no denying the relief that swept over him. After disposing of the broken glass, he crept closer and gently moved the towel. The cut was already closing, but it was dangerously close to those fat veins in her throat. The sight of her blood frightened him, bringing back that rapid-fire slideshow of nightmares.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"It stings, but I'm fine," she said.

He nodded, then placed one hand over her heart. Her steady, quick pulse reassured him."I love you. And I will protect you with everything I have. I know that's not the promise you want, but it's one I know that I can keep."

She nodded and covered his hand. "I know. And I appreciate it. And I—" Her brow furrowed, and he could see the curve of her tongue, as if she was trying to shape the word love. "I…"

"You don't have to say it just because I said it," he said gently. Brushing a kiss on her brow, he swallowed the ache, the yearning, and reminded himself that this, merely having her, touching her, having hope, was more than he'd had in nearly two hundred years.

"I'm glad I'm here with you," she said when he drew back. "And I trust you to keep your word."

Even those words shocked him with their weight. His eyes stung, and he didn't trust himself not to cry. Instead, he bent to kiss her, finding that sweet, familiar taste on her tongue again. Before he knew it, she was on the stone counter with her legs wrapped around his waist, and he had just enough presence of mind to notice the crunch of tires on gravel before he made a fool of himself.

"I just got to the house. I know. I love you, too," a familiar male voice said, muffled slightly by the door. Then there was a firm knock at the door, followed by an automated robotic voice saying guest at the front door. From upstairs, Shoshanna called, "Let him in!"

Scarlett smirked as Julian pulled away, sliding off the counter and pinching his bottom as she passed. She slid past him to open the front door for Misha Volkov, who smiled in greeting. "You've been ignoring your phone," Misha said.

"I just got up," Julian protested.

"As did I, and Paris has been complaining since forty-three seconds after sunset that you haven't answered him." Before Julian could protest, Misha put up his hands. "I told him you were probably otherwise occupied. I won't repeat his response, but you've known him long enough."

"Something about dealing with my cock later," Julian muttered.

Misha just smiled, even as Scarlett let out a choked laugh. The blood witch raised a hand. "Scarlett. How are you feeling this evening?"

"One day closer to death," she said. Immediately, she followed it with, "Sorry."

"I'm here to help Shoshanna and to keep an eye on Scarlett so you can get back to work," Misha said.

"Is that a polite way of telling me I'm going to be underfoot if I linger?"

Again, Misha gave him a knowing smile. That made two witches telling him to find something else to do for a while.

In truth, as the Elder of the court, he could stay wherever he damn well pleased. Even Eduardo had a rule about the hour after sunset and the hour before sunrise being his. Besides, if Paris wanted to press the issue, Julian would be happy to remind him that he'd tried ages ago to have Paris take over instead. But he also had enough honor and pride to handle his business. He was doing nothing useful here, and there was always work to be done in the office.

Upon returning to the guest room to check his phone, he found several messages from Olivia, beginning with a fairly standard call me when you wake up.

While he quickly remade the bed, he called her. She picked up after two rings and said, "Good evening. Big news."

"What is it?"

"Jack Eslinger called the number we set up," she said.

He froze. "As in the Shieldsmen's Jack Eslinger?"

"I don't know any others," she said. "I haven't called him back yet."

"Holy shit," he muttered. "I'll be at the compound in half an hour."

"I've also got an update on the bodies they found at the Constitution Building. There were a couple of news stories—two kills, no one I recognized. But the official story is stabbing, but I don't buy it," Olivia said. "Avery and Dominic couldn't get close enough with the cops there last night."

"Who's available?"

"I've got Sasha and Kristina or Safira and Phoebe," she said.

"Put Sasha and Kristina on it," he said. "Tell them to be on high alert. I'll be back at my office soon."

"Watch the traffic. There was a huge pileup with a tanker truck that has 285 shut down," Olivia said.

"Thanks for the heads-up."

After a shower and shave, he kissed Scarlett goodbye, made Misha promise to text him regularly with updates, and headed back to the compound to tend to his business.As he drove down the private driveway and out to the main road, he frowned.

Black-winged vultures flapped across the road, tearing at a deer carcass. Another flicker of movement caught his eye across the two-lane blacktop, and another further down. He idled down, craning his neck to see. There were at least six fallen deer, white tails frozen upright. It wasn't all that unusual to see one deer that had lost a fight with a truck, but six?

His stomach turned, and he told himself to call Shoshanna when he got to the office. On the drive, his mind swirled with turmoil. Every minute took him farther from Scarlett, who was now vulnerable to whatever treachery Armina Voss had up her sleeve. But as much as his ego didn't want to accept the truth, Scarlett was in good hands with Shoshanna and Misha and Kova.

There was a chance that he could use this call to deal with Armina. The witch had once been allied with the Shieldsmen, but if Eslinger knew that his ally was attacking innocents like Shoshanna's brother and even harming their own hunters, perhaps he'd give her up.

The thought of the Shieldsmen reminded him of their unlikely ally. He dictated a text to Olivia requesting that she contact Jonas so they could speak to him before calling Eslinger.

In the last few days, Julian had chased down his forsaken lover, brought her home, kissed her for the first time, made love to her, confronted the reality of her curse, and brought her into the fold of his court. It felt as if a lifetime had passed since he'd walked into his corner office in the glass-walled administrative building of the compound.

He had barely set down his keys when Paris stepped into the office. "I don't like being ignored, and you—"His nostrils flared, and then he grinned. "Congratulations on taking her to bed."

"Goddammit," Julian complained. "I showered."

"I was bluffing based on that smile, but thank you for confirming," Paris said, brows arching. Another day, he might have kept teasing, but his wry smile faded quickly. "What's the play with Eslinger?"

"We ask him to give up Armina."

"In exchange for…"

"We appeal to his sense of decency," Julian said, skimming over the daily report Olivia had sent him.

Slumping into the other chair, Paris let out a derisive snort. "You think he has a sense of decency after he fucking firebombed us?"

"I think it's worth a shot," Julian said. "I want to talk to Jonas before we call. He may have some insight on how to appeal to Eslinger. In the meantime, update me on the safehouses."

Paris shook his head. "There's nothing. We investigated them all, and they're empty. We checked the Charlotte house and found that someone had been there recently, but it had been hours. I have to assume Armina is smart enough not to go back to a place that Kova knows." He glanced at his watch. "I hate to say it, but we may be screwed."

"Hopefully not," Julian said. They spent half an hour discussing other impending issues, though it was hard to focus between his worries for Scarlett and his dread at what Armina Voss was up to.

His mood worsened when he saw the first note on their agenda—rebuilding a clinic for Rhys. There was still no sign of their lost brother. Misha was still working on ideas, but he'd put them aside to help Shoshanna with Scarlett's curse.

There was also the matter of rebuilding their network of veravin. Some had been attacked by Carrigan Shea, and while most had survived, they wanted no part of vampire life after that. Several had also been turned over the last few months to bolster the Durendal's numbers. Now they had to carefully find new willing donors who were healthy enough to give blood and discreet enough not to destroy their carefully constructed veil of secrecy.They'd been interviewing candidates who had been shared by the Sanguine Crown, with plans to bring them in after they had dealt with Armina Voss. It was tedious work, but he liked the idea of returning to normal.

Forty-five minutes after he arrived at the compound, Julian's phone rang with a call from Jonas Wynn.When he blurted, "It's him," Paris came running back into his office.

"Hi," Jonas said, his voice still rough over the speaker. "Olivia said you wanted to talk to me."

"Forgive me for skipping the pleasantries. Rachel's been updating us, and I hope you're feeling well enough," Julian said, leaning forward in his chair as if Jonas could see him. "I'm calling for your advice on speaking to Jack Eslinger. He's agreed to take a call. "

Jonas was quiet for a while. "You're planning to ask him for help?"

"I'm planning to ask him where Armina Voss is, and maybe to make her stand down. Is there any chance I can appeal to his sense of morality?"

"These days, I think Jack cares more about winning than morality," Jonas said quietly. "As did I, until all of this happened. He had some choice words for me when I told him I was staying with my daughter."

"Based on what you know of him, is he planning to attack us again?" Paris asked.

"It's possible. Losing me and Kristina was a serious blow. The Shieldsmen lost a fair number of hunters to you and Shea over the last year," Jonas said. "I'm sure he's tired of losing."

"To be fair, we turned Henry and Thomas," Paris said. "We could have sent you their heads in a bag."

"My gratitude is overflowing," Jonas said drily. "I don't think he'd attack anytime soon, though I'd also consider the possibility that he'll interpret you asking for his help as a sign of desperation and weakness. He might realize that this is the time to attack."

"And you can't convince him that we're different?" Julian asking, hating the pleading edge in his voice.

Jonas chuckled. "Jack doesn't care. They didn't care two hundred years ago, and they don't care now."

"And would he care if he knew his favorite witch was using enthralled vampires to do her bidding?"

"Possibly," Jonas said. "But not likely. Armina doesn't answer to Jack, and he doesn't answer to her. They help each other when it's mutually beneficial. It might make him distrust her, but it's not going to bring him to your side." He sighed. "I wish I had better news for you."

"What about her manipulating the hunters? Scarlett said she'd put some kind of spell on the woman—Marlee, I think," Julian added.

Jonas was quiet for a moment. "Maybe. But even then, I wouldn't count on it. Jack is focused on winning, regardless of the cost. I should know, because I was the same for a long time."

"You think you could talk to him for us?" Paris asked.

At that, Jonas laughed bitterly. "I'm dead to him.Your chances are as good as mine, if not better. Good luck."

An hour later, he finally pulled the trigger and had Olivia make the call for him. Paris settled into the leather chair across from him, fingers dancing across the wood surface of the desk. He caught himself and folded his hands, staring evenly at Julian.

As the call connected, Julian settled into his seat, staring at the loading screen on the laptop. When the screen activated, he saw an older man with salt and pepper hair. Without his sense of smell, he couldn't be sure, but he suspected Jack Eslinger was dhampir. The office around him was nondescript, with plain bookshelves and white walls that could have been in any thousands of offices around the world. No pictures to identify him. Smart man.

"Mr. Alcott," Eslinger said.He wore a crisp white shirt, but the sleeves were rolled up to reveal intricate tattoos.

"Mr. Eslinger," Julian replied. "I appreciate your willingness to speak to me."

One dark brow arched. "It's not often the leader of a new vampire court reaches out to the Shieldsmen."

"And I hope it will be a rarity," he said. "Mr. Eslinger, I have had the pleasure of getting to know Kristina Arensberg, who speaks highly of her time with the Shieldsmen. I know that you are committed to making the world safer for humans, which is a noble calling."

Eslinger chuckled and sat back in his chair. "Mr. Alcott, please don't patronize me. If you hope to convince me that you are different from other vampires, then spare me. I know that the Auberon fancied themselves different, and surely you do, too. I don't care how you delude yourselves."

"Then why did you bother to return my call?" Julian said.

"Business has been slow, and I was curious. Particularly since you mentioned Armina Voss," Eslinger said."Tell me what you know."

It took Julian a moment to gather himself. She's going to fucking kill my soulmate, he wanted to scream, but he didn't dare lose his cool. Fixing a bland expression on his face, he said, "Armina Voss has, to put it in modern terms, gone off the rails. She is so hellbent on revenge that she is harming innocent people. Some of whom you know. She has every intention of killing Scarlett Ward."

At that, Eslinger's head tilted slightly. "The dhampir hunter?"

"That's the one," he said. "While I'm willing to dangle foolish hope for a truce between us, that's not my priority. I want your help in getting to Armina Voss so we can stop her. Hell, if you could call her and tell her to stand down, that would be better than nothing."

"And what's in it for me?"

"Doing the right thing and protecting the innocent," Julian said. He chuckled. "Did you know that Armina was using Carrigan Shea as a puppet? The vampire who was responsible for the deaths of several of your hunters, and the one who turned Kristina? Furthermore, she enslaved quite a few of his followers as weapons. Is that the sort of ally you want?"

Eslinger chuckled. "That's weak, Mr. Alcott. If that's all, I think we're done here."

"It's not. Armina Voss and her apprentices are using magic to manipulate some of your hunters. Marlee Montgomery and Jordan Cole," he said.

Eslinger's head cocked, and his expression flickered for a split second. "Manipulate them how? Into killing vampires?"

"She's violating their free will," Julian said. "Making them into mindless drones."

The other man was quiet for a moment, but his expression was contemptuous, as if he couldn't believe Julian was wasting his time. Finally, he said, "If you're calling me for a peace treaty, then it must be because she's got you scared."

"You don't care that your ally is working with vampires and using dark magic on your people?" he asked.

The other man sat back in his chair, a faint smile spreading on his face. "Mr. Alcott, I don't know whether it was you or Alazan who gave the orders, but Jordan Cole was tortured within an inch of his life for months. Don't insult either of us by acting as if you care about his precious little spirit now."

Fucking Hugo, he thought. Julian had told him to either kill the hunter or let him go. Now it was coming back to haunt them, long after Hugo was dead. Still, whining that it wasn't his fault wouldn't score him any points.

"Jordan Cole knew the risks when he attacked an innocent woman and her child," Julian said. "I am reaching out to you as one leader to another."

"We are not equals. And no matter how many of my hunters you kill or turn or seduce to your side, you will not convince me that you're just a bunch of misunderstood loners," Eslinger said in a mocking tone. "I know what you are, and I will never pretend otherwise. If that's all?—"

His smug expression was enough to disintegrate what little patience Julian had left. "It's not all," Julian said calmly. "Do not mistake my protection of humans as weakness. If you bring war to my doorstep again, you will find it. We do not have to like each other, but I advise you to leave well enough alone. Your conscience will dictate what you do about Armina Voss. Your sense of self-preservation should dictate what you do about me. Good evening, Mr. Eslinger."

With that, he hung up. "Fucking Shieldsmen," he muttered.Paris regarded him over the edge of the monitor, and Julian sighed. "I know, I fucked it up."

Paris shrugged. "I wasn't going to say so. You were much more diplomatic than I would have been. And I think it's been a very long time since the Shieldsmen were particularly concerned with innocent lives. They're much more interested in slaying monsters than rescuing damsels."

"So it's a dead end," Julian muttered.

"At least we know we tried," Paris said.

He shook his head. "I hope we can do better than that before it's too late."