Sealed With a Curse(36)

Taran gasped next to me. “Holy Mother. Who the hell was that?”

I wiped my bloody lip with the edge of the blanket. “My boyfriend,” I answered quietly.





CHAPTER 11


“Misha. What the hell are you doing?”

Misha tore off his pants in a way that would shame Magic Mike. He tossed them aside, and—good Lord—the rest of his Adonis form was enough to distract me from his gruesome injuries.

He grinned at my crimson face. “I am going for a swim. Care to join me?”

I gaped at his outstretched hand, but it was still better than the alternative. Master vampires, it seemed, weren’t fans of underwear.

When I failed to do more than snap my jaw shut, Misha strolled his smooth derriere to the end of the wooden dock and jumped. My skin reeked with about four different types of body fluid. Mud caked my feet and toenails. And God only knew what Shayna was trying to peel off my back. Still, skinny-dipping with a vampire should have counted as one of the seven deadly sins.

Shayna gagged. “It’s a piece of flesh.”

I reached around my shoulder, trying to stay covered. “It can’t be.”

Emme’s green color matched her dress. She’d discovered the thing on my skin when she healed me. “A-a-are you sure?”

“I think I’d remember skinning someone.” I found the edge of something leathery, slimy, and warm. I froze, suddenly not so sure.

Taran groaned, relieved. “It’s a slice of ham.” She pulled it off and waved it in my face. “You must have rolled on it while fighting the wolf in the kitchen.”

The mere mention of the weres made me sick. Aric, Gemini, Koda, and Liam remained the few who didn’t try to harm us. I couldn’t comprehend what we’d done to infuriate those who supposedly protected the earth. But I did recognize the need to avoid all of them…except for Aric.

Shayna shook her head, verbalizing my thoughts. “Why did they come after us, anyway? And why did Misha jump Aric? Isn’t there a treaty between their kind?”

One of the naughty Catholic schoolgirls glided to our side, a rare feat in the stilt-high boots she wore over her fishnets. “The mongrel challenged the master in his home, thereby temporarily violating the treaty. Our master was within his rights to defend his property.” She circled us slowly. “The others recognized you as our allies; thus you became their target as well.”

I fixed the blanket around me to keep me covered. “Aric didn’t challenge Misha.”

“Yes, he did.” The vamp peered over her shoulder at me as she sashayed away. “He tried to take what belongs to the master.”

She assumed I was Misha’s property. She assumed wrong. My cool skin heated with resentment…until I realized most of the bimbos Misha encountered would likely sacrifice their pricey bosoms for the chance of becoming his. He had wealth, power, ethereal beauty.

But he sure as hell didn’t have me.

I brushed the bitchy vamp’s comments aside. There were more pressing matters. Bloodlust continued to run rampant, and Misha’s death would likely spiral the plague out of control. And perhaps it was naive, but like Petro, I believed in his innocence. I also believed whoever caused the infestation would rise to inconceivable power in Misha’s absence.

I peered out to where Misha had dove into the peaceful water. The extent of his injuries worried me. Masters healed fast, but only because they drew power and strength from their keep. The more vampires a master controlled, the more formidable he was. Except Misha was down to a mere handful.

I walked to the end of the dock, praying I wouldn’t see chunks of Misha’s liver floating above the waves. Fortunately, my eyes failed to spot any dismembered body parts. Unfortunately, they also failed to spot Misha.

“Dude, where did Count Hotness go?”

I knelt over the edge. “I don’t know—”

Emme screamed from the other side of the pier. “Oh, my God. He’s dead!”

We rushed over. Misha floated as if standing beneath the clear water, the bright dock lighting bleaching his skin white. His long blond hair fanned above him, swaying in time with the waves. My breath caught at his outstretched arms reaching as if pleading for salvation.

Emme crossed herself, her voice trembling. “May he rest in peace.”

Taran swallowed hard. “Shit, Ceel. That settles that.”

“He’s not dead,” I stammered.

Shayna placed her hand on my shoulder. “Celia, I know you wanted to help him—”

I shook my head. “No. What I mean is he can’t be dead. There’s no ash or anything.” Despite what I said, my stomach lurched into my throat.