He nodded, afraid to speak and shatter the dream. Bending to meet her, he brushed his lips over hers, and lightning burst through him. Her fingers twined into his hair, holding him tight as she kissed him hungrily. The noise of the crowd faded, and he felt the patter of something around him.
Pulling back, he looked up and saw the glimmer of rain in the moonlight. It fell, warm and damp, on his skin, but rather than puddles, a blanket of rose petals lay on the ground. Brigitte laughed, took his hand, and yanked him to spin him around.
“Dance with me, silly,” she said.
And he did. He let his wild beauty spin him around, eventually lifting her up by her slender waist, letting her rest against his chest as she covered his face in kisses. Staring up at her, he was struck with the urge to tell her: Don’t leave me. You have to run away from her.
“Come with me,” he said.
Tilting her head, she smiled brightly and said, “I’m right here.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Can you come and find me? I’ll protect you if—” The words dried up in his mind, and even if this beautiful vision, he saw those awful, broken flashes. Pretty lips bruised, skin bloodied, clothing torn.
Why would this time be any different? How could he protect her from the inevitable?
Her head cocked. “Are you all right?”
“I love you, Brigitte,” he murmured. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” she said, shaking her head so her long curls tickled at his face. He used to love it when she straddled his hips, riding him until pleasure tore through her, and then she would bend over him, gently tracing his chest as her long hair feathered across his sweat-slick skin.
Thunder rolled across the sky, and she suddenly shifted out of his grasp, landing on her feet. Still holding his hand, she looked back, then back to him. “Something’s coming.”
“Come with me,” he said. “Don’t go that way.”
But there was fear in her eyes. She paused long enough to kiss the back of his hand, then broke away. “Come find me,” she called back. Gathering her skirt up around her knees, she ran into the shadows. He tried to follow, but despite his vampire speed, she left him alone in the rain.
The night sky had gone impossibly dark. Instead of lightning, it was as if a bolt of pure void-black struck the earth, splitting open reality all around him. And as it split, he saw that the nothing was something—something hungry and terrible.
Sharp claws dug into his back, and before he could fight back, a sharp sting cut across his face. He swung back, caught something soft, and snapped his eyes open to see Misha Volkov holding his arms. Blood trickled from the vampire’s nose.
“Wake up,” Misha said firmly.
Horror dawned on him when he saw Shoshanna staring out at nothing, her eyes filled with flickering light. Dark lines slithered over her brown skin, as if tangling shadows were trying to suck her in.
“Help her,” Julian pleaded.
Misha shook his head. “She’s fighting something. I can ground her if it gets dangerous.” In front of him sat three conical red stones the size of Julian’s fist.Sparks flickered at the heart of each, like fire encased in glass.
The other witch’s breathing was ragged, her heart pounding so loudly it should have been rattling the house. The markings on her arms glowed incandescent bright, her arms trembling as she leaned against the intricate drawing on the floor.
“Come on,” Misha muttered.
Julian glanced back and saw Alistair and Paris wedged shoulder-to-shoulder in the doorway. Paris held one arm across the door to keep Alistair from bursting in, murmuring let her do it, she’s got it over and over like a mantra.
Suddenly, Shoshanna’s eyes went dark. Her voice cracked out of her chest in awful, hitching gasps for several seconds before she spat out a single, croaking, “Help.”
“Shoshanna!” Alistair cried.
But Misha was already in action, placing the three red stones into the spell around Shoshanna. He glanced back. “I’ve got her. Stay calm,” he said. Using the jagged point of a ring on his right hand, he sliced into his left palm and let his blood drip onto the first of the conical stones.It ignited with a blinding spark and surged to the others to form a glowing triangle.
Red light burst from each stone and into Shoshanna. Misha held her face gently, eyes closed, and she went limp. He easily lifted her, stepping away from the circle with her in his arms. The red light swirled in a blinding tangle where Shoshanna had crouched, and he could swear he saw black, ink-like tendrils reaching up in search of something.
“You’re all right. Just breathe,” Misha said gently.
Shoshanna’s eyes snapped open. “I saw her. She saw me. She looked right at me. She knows.”
Chapter 3
