Relief? Yeah. She chalked it up to the fact that she hadn’t interacted with anyone but her cousin all week and talking to a demon in the bathroom mirror wasn’t the same thing as real, live company.
“Looks like you’re settling in…” His mossy green gaze raked her from head to toe, taking in the sight of her flannel pajama pants and the oversized hoodie she’d basically been living in. “…comfortably.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She wished she’d at least braided her hair, maybe put on a bra.
Flashing a too-wide smile, she said, “Oh, you bet. Should’ve put getting kidnapped and stashed in a stranger’s apartment on my bucket list ages ago!”
“Consider yourself fortunate I’ve stashed you in an apartment rather than a dungeon. Most prisoners don’t receive my courtesy.”
“You think a cappuccino machine and a killer view means this isn’t a prison? Maybe I should take my chances in that dungeon.”
He took one step, then another, crowding into her space and bringing the chill with him. “Say the word,witch, and I’ll gladly make the arrangements.”
She held his gaze, searching his eyes for some hint of warmth. Humanity. Anything but that icy darkness.
The toaster popped, making her yelp.
Ridiculous.
Raising that stupidly sexy eyebrow, Gabriel took a step backward, and she pushed past him to the toaster and retrieved her bagel. As she slathered on the cream cheese, she couldn’t help but wonder just how long itwouldtake to decapitate him with a butter knife. Probably depended on the angle…
Good graces,she reminded herself.
“So, what brings you here today, Prince?” She set down her knife and lifted half the bagel to her lips. “Popping in for a spot of tea?”
Ignoring both questions, he asked, “Have you had any luck tracking Duchanes?”
“Oddly, he’s not returning my calls. I think he’s just not into me.” She took a big bite, then an exaggerated frown, speaking through a full mouth. “Maybe I’m too clingy?”
The muscle on Gabriel’s jaw ticked. “I assumed you had other means of tracking him. Magical means.”
“Normally, yes. But I’ve only just received my supplies today, and whoever packed them made a mess of everything. I need time to look through it all, organize it, cleanse my tools, set up an altar, charge my crystals by the full moon, which isn’t happening for another—”
“I don’t need the play-by-play, Jacinda. Just find a way to get it done.”
She shoved in another bite of bagel to stop herself from saying something rude. Something about gallivanting and jerking off.
“Tell me about the curse,” she finally said instead. “Maybe we can get started on that while I figure out what to do about our missing vampire.”
“It’s old, dark, and deadly.”
“Deadly to whom?”
He glared at her, waiting for the realization to sink in.
Oh.Oh.
“But… but you’re immortal,” she said. “How is a deadly curse against a vampire even possible?”
“That’s for you to figure out.” He reached for her face, swiping an errant glob of cream cheese from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Then, licking it clean, “And break.”
Jaci’s appetite abandoned her. She turned away from him, forcing her heart rate to chill out and buying herself a minute to think.
The things that could kill a bloodsucker were few and specific. Decapitation, as he’d mentioned. A wooden stake through the heart, tearing out said heart, or—a favorite of demons everywhere—burning them with hellfire. She’d never heard of a vampire dying by curse—not a curse a witch could conjure on her own, anyway.
Which meant…oh, fuck. The curse wasn’t just dark magic. It was demonic magic. It had to be.
An icy finger of dread slithered along her spine, colder than even the vampire’s impatient glare. A curse of this nature combined the worst of both worlds—crafted by the darkest witch, bound by a demon with all the powers of hell. It was a rare combination—a dangerous mix that ultimately required the witch to sacrifice herself to hell in order to fully bind the spell.
