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Peri straightened, shoving up the sleeves of her sweater. Like she was preparing to wrestle an alligator, not conjure a spell.
The sight sent a stab of fear through his heart. He knew she was powerful, but if there was miasma in each of those vessels, it seemed an impossible task for any mage to abolish it back to the hell it came from.
“Alone?”
“The magic is muted by the runes etched into the statues.” She turned to meet his worried gaze. “I can do this.”
Valen battled back his instinctive need to toss her over his shoulder and head out of the cabin. He was a leader who’d spent two thousand years protecting his people. It was shockingly painful to leash his alpha impulses.
“What do you need from me?”
She sent him a searching glance, as if she knew how hard it was for him to accept that she was capable of deciding what risks she was willing to take.
“You might want to go outside. I’m not sure this cabin is sturdy enough to—”
“I’m staying,” he interrupted. It was one thing to acknowledge she was the obvious choice to deal with the vessels. But leave her there by herself? No way in hell. He stepped toward her, reaching out to frame her face in his hands. Holding her gaze, he stroked his thumbs along the line of her jaw. “Peri, be careful.”
“Well, well. Isn’t this touching,” an unexpected female voice drawled.
With a hiss, Valen spun around, his fangs fully extended as he prepared to attack. How the hell had anyone managed to creep up on him? It didn’t matter that he’d been distracted. He was an apex predator. Nothing snuck past his defenses.
His gaze swept over the woman. She looked like one of the aristocrats he’d known when he lived at the czar’s palace in St. Petersburg. Her silver hair was smoothed away from her perfect face, which was set in arrogant lines, and her slender body was shown to advantage in a tight cashmere sweater and black silk slacks.
Valen had never seen her before, but the rich scent of cloves and the fact she’d managed to sneak up on him meant she was a mage. A very powerful mage.
It didn’t take a genius to guess her identity.
“Tia,” he hissed, his muscles tensed as he prepared to rip out her throat.
The woman lifted her hand, her eyes shimmering with a ruthless power. “Don’t be hasty, vampire.”
Valen stepped forward. He wasn’t afraid of a mage. Not unless her name was Peri Sanguis. But before he could sate his hunger to punish this woman, Peri reached out to grasp his arm.
“Valen, wait.”
His brows snapped together. Surely Peri hadn’t forgotten this woman had tried to hold her captive? And that she intended to use her for some future power grab? As if reading his mind, Peri lifted her hand to reveal a glowing tattoo that had appeared on the back of it.
“What is that?” he demanded, his gaze locked on the strange symbol burned into Peri’s skin. It looked like a snake coiled around a sword.
“A simple tracing spell,” Tia answered.
Peri shook her head, glaring at the other mage. “It’s more than that.”
“Yes.” Tia took a cautious step into the cabin, her tone smug. “There is a curse embedded in the mark. A rather nasty one, I’m afraid.”
Peri frowned. “When did you…” Her expression hardened as she managed to work out how Tia had cursed her. “When I first entered your gaudy castle.”
Tia took another step forward. “I had a dream you might stop by. I made sure I was prepared.”
Peri narrowed her eyes. “You also let me escape.”
Tia shrugged. “I didn’t intend for you to destroy a very expensive window, but I did hope that you would lead me to the miasma.”
Valen hissed. This woman was a threat to Peri. One he intended to eliminate. “You will die.”
“There’s no need for violence,” Tia chided. “This is mage business, not Cabal. I’m sure Peri and I can negotiate without your assistance.” She waved a dismissive hand toward Valen, but she was abruptly distracted when she caught sight of the statues at the back of the room. “What is that?”
Peri turned toward the vessels that were still nestled in the packing straw and covered by her protective spell.
