“Right.” I scrambled out of the Trooper and followed Dax into the large mansion. I hadn’t ever actually been inside this home. It was new. Allcot had gotten a larger place now that Carrie and Beau Junior had moved in so that they could have their own apartment. Considering his last place had been at least four times as large as the home I shared with Willow and Tal, I found it all rather extreme. But it also proved Allcot was at least generous if nothing else.
The entry was all white marble with a large crystal chandelier. Rare artwork from long-dead artists hung on the walls. Just in front of us there was a grand staircase, and to the left, the entry opened up into a formal sitting room. I glanced around, looking for the army of vampires that usually hung out in his place, and found no one. Where were they? Footsteps sounded at the top of the steps, and I glanced up to see Carrie rushing down the stairs. Speak of the devil, I thought.
“Phoebe, there you are,” Carrie said, her eyebrows pinched together in worry. “They need you upstairs. Pandora—”
“I know. I’m coming.” Exhaustion had set in, and despite my short nap on the way back into town, my limbs were heavy with fatigue and it felt like three flights of stairs rather than just one. By the time I made it to the top, I was winded and longing for a glass of water and a comfortable place to sit down.
“She’s in here. The healer is waiting.” Carrie pushed open a set of double doors and led us inside.
The large room was decorated with red silk and rich mahogany furniture. I knew right away it was Pandora’s bedroom. She was lying on her bed, Allcot and his son David on one side and a woman with auburn hair piled haphazardly in a bun on the other side. She was wearing a robe as if someone had just dragged her from bed.
“Imogen, this is—” Carrie started.
“Phoebe,” the woman finished for her. The healer rose from the bed and walked over to me, her blue eyes taking me in. “I wish it was under different circumstances, but it’s nice to see you again, Miss Kilsen.”
“Healer Imogen. I wasn’t expecting to see you here at this late hour,” I said.
She gave me a tight smile. “I could say the same to you.”
Touché, I thought. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. I was just surprised.” When she didn’t respond, I glanced over at Pandora. “How is she?”
“Cursed. Eadric said you were adamant that with a healer’s help we could break the spell the sorceress put on her.”
“Right.” I produced my blade. “I have this. It’s the sorceress’s blood staining the tip. The only problem is my blade is laced with poison.” With the right magical skills, we could use the sorceress’s blood to reverse the curse, but the poison would be an issue.
“Damn,” she muttered.
“I think we can still make it work though.” I glanced around the room. “Can someone get us a bowl?”
“On it.” David, Allcot’s adopted son, rose from the bed and hurried from the room.
I walked over to Pandora and felt a rush of empathy as I watched Allcot tenderly wash the blood from her face, her neck, and her limbs. He whispered something to her the rest of us couldn’t hear. I hoped she could, but there was no way to tell as she just lay there, motionless, staring at the red silk covering the canopy of her bed.
“Here,” David said, popping up right beside me.
I smiled at the tall, handsome, dark-haired man. “Thanks.”
“Not a problem.” He walked over to where Carrie stood off to the side and slipped his arm around her waist. They’d started dating some months ago, and I was glad to see they still appeared to be happy.
Clutching the bowl, I slipped into Pandora’s en suite bathroom and partially filled the bowl with water while Imogen eyed me curiously. I glanced at her and asked, “Do you have any dandelion root in your bag of tricks?”
“Sure.” She disappeared back into the room and returned with a leather case of herbs. “Powder or leaf?”
“Powder.”
She handed me a container of the herb, and I sprinkled it in the water. “I’m going to put the dagger in the water, but I need your help to separate the blood from the blade. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Tell me when.”
“When,” I said and dipped the blade into the water.
Healer Imogen cupped her hands around the ceramic bowl and started to chant. Her magic rose up around us, and suddenly all the tension of the past two days seemed to drain from my body. There was just something about her power that was so soothing. No wonder she’d chosen to be a healer. I’d been passed out when she’d worked her magic on me the day before. Too bad, because her energy was divine. Strange, I thought. Hadn’t I just gotten an uneasy vibe from her the day before? What had changed?
I watched as the blood separated from the blade and spiraled into a coil in the water and decided it didn’t matter. Not now. I’d take whatever help we could get.
Imogen glanced up. “Now what?”
“We have to let the dandelion root cleanse the blood of the curse.” I placed my hands over hers and let myself merge into her magical force. Our energies blended, and it was as if her magic was mine and mine was hers. It was a heady place to be.
“Phoebe?” she said on a whisper.
I glanced up to find her wincing and struggling to keep it together. “What’s wrong?”
“The curse on your dagger. It’s trying to probe my barriers, work its way inside me.” She grimaced and gritted her teeth.
“Shit! Sorry.” I closed my eyes and imagined the curse feeding back into me, rejoining with my magic where it belonged. Not with the healer and her pure energy. With mine and my already battered soul. The curse hung on to the sorceress’s blood, clinging to it, trying to feed off the evil there, but I whispered, “Mine!”
The binding shattered, and the curse boomeranged right back into me. I let go of the bowl and stepped back. “The blood is pure now. You can use it to deconstruct the curse on Pandora.”
She eyed me for a moment, concern radiating back at me. “But what about you?”
“What about me?” I asked, giving her a weak smile. “I can dispel it safely. It’s not something you can do. Remember yesterday when I finished healing my leg?”
She nodded.
“It’s basically the same thing. I’ve got this covered.”
Imogen appeared skeptical but nodded and rushed back into the bedroom.
I sat down on the edge of the tub, pressed my hand to my heart, and focused on the curse strumming in my veins. Dispelling the curse wasn’t nearly as simple as healing my wound had been. It had been concentrated in my tissue, not circulating in my body. But still, I had to try. If I let the curse remain, it would eat me alive.
Closing my eyes, I imagined a large diamond. In my mind, it shimmered under imaginary lights, twinkled like a beacon, called the curse to its sparkling facets. The curse burned as it ran through my veins, making its way to the diamond, its home where it belonged.
I gasped and clutched my chest, trying to ease the ache beneath my breastbone. I’m not sure how long I sat there as the burning slowly but surely concentrated in my chest. The ball of pain grew and grew and grew until finally I could barely breathe.
“Phoebe?”
It was Dax. But I couldn’t talk. The spell lodged in my chest had cut off my airflow, and I started to gasp.
“Phoebe!” he said, alarmed. When I didn’t answer, he ran back into the room, calling for Healer Imogen.
No, I tried to say. I couldn’t let her work on this. It would taint her pure healer magic. She sat down next to me, but I flinched away, holding one hand up.
“Miss Kilsen, I can help,” she said patiently.
I was sure she could, but I wouldn’t let her. I shook my head and stood up. Something dislodged inside me and it was like a dam broke. Then suddenly the magic threatening to suffocate me burst from me and hit the large mirror with such force the entire thing shattered. My ears rang from the loud impact, and a couple of slivers of glass had lodged into my hands. I held them up, studying them, wondering if Healer Imogen was going to need to stitch me up again.
“Holy shit,” she said from her place on the floor where she’d ducked down. “That was one hell of a curse.”
I nodded my agreement and slid to the floor. Holding my hands out, I said, “Can you fix this?”