Cursed, Page 3

  Then he shoves me back. My fingers leave his as I float deeper into the crowd, and he steps back, getting swallowed up by the people around us.

  Catching my balance, I frantically look for him. But I can’t see him anywhere. I push my way through the sweaty bodies with a desperate need to find him.

  “Remi, what are you doing?” Jane’s voice cuts through my panic. “Why do you look so freaked out?”

  The haziness evaporates from my mind.

  “Where’d you go?” She’s wearing her one piece covered by a pair of pink board shorts with little hearts on them and her floral dress is clutched in her hands. “I thought you were going to wait for me outside of the pool house?”

  “I was, but I...” My gaze darts around the area. “Got distracted.”

  “Oh.” She twists a strand of her hair around her finger while chewing on her bottom lip. “If you want to go hang out with Steph and Kara, that’s okay. They’re probably having more fun anyway.”

  Even though it’s complicated as shit, I concentrate on her and give her a playfully stern look. “No way. The hot tub is way more fun than watching guys hit on Kara and Steph.”

  “Okay.” She perks up. “So who was that guy you were dancing with?”

  I’m so distracted scanning the peoples’ faces around me, I barely hear her. “You mean Ian?”

  She shakes her head. “No, that guy with the blonde hair. The one you were dancing with when I came out of the pool house. He doesn’t go to our school, does he? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before.”

  “Um…” Unsure how to explain to her what just happened—and not really wanting to, because it’ll probably make me look insane—I lie, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It’s the second time I’ve ever lied to her and I feel like shit. Not knowing what else to do, I change the subject. “Hey, did I tell you that my parents are letting me have my birthday party at the cabin?”

  Her brows knit, probably noting my obvious subject change. But she’s too nice to call me out on my bull. “Sounds like fun. Who’s all going to be there?”

  I start yammering off the details. But I’m only mentally half there, my mind back on the dance floor with Cameron.

  What was he trying to show me? And better yet, how the hell did he convince me to dance when I didn’t want to?

  Chapter 4

  Thoughts of Cameron and curses consume my mind as Jane and I make our way back to the hot tub and climb in. I swear I can feel someone watching me, but can pinpoint where it’s coming from. The feeling is unsettling, but Cameron’s words are even more so. All that talk about curses and things getting worse before they get better. What did he mean by it? Was he just straight up crazy? Or does he know something about me that I don’t?

  Or am I just going crazy?

  Ten minutes later, Kara and Steph finally join us. They have shots in their hands and while I’m not a huge drinker, I decide that tonight I might need a shot or two or three…

  Somewhere, I lose track of how many shots I throw back. My voice starts to sound so far away, like a faint echo, and my stomach begins to twist with nausea.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I mumble, stumbling out of the hot tub.

  Knowing I won’t make it to the bathroom, I stumble farther into the backyard and yack my guts up in the bushes. Mid vomit, I hear the town clock chime midnight.

  Happy birthday to me, I mentally groan.

  A hand suddenly touches my back. Figuring it’s one of my friends, I relax into their comforting touch.

  “I’m so sorry,” I apologize to them through a groan. “I completely ruined the night.”

  Instead of getting a reassuring answer, a low chuckle echoes through the darkness.

  I tense, suddenly feeling very sober. “Who’s there?” I start to turn around when I hand clamps down on my mouth.

  I throw my weight forward, but an arm snakes around my waist and drags me out the back gate. I bite and kick and scream, but it’s no use. Whoever the person is, is freakishly strong.

  “Don’t worry,” the voice purrs as we descend farther and farther away from the party. “Soon, this will be over. But before it gets better, things will get worse. But that’s just how curses work.”

  His words are so similar to what Cameron said to me earlier. Is that who has me? The voice doesn’t match, but maybe he’s disguising it.

  I want to ask him who he is, what curse he’s talking about, and what will be over soon, but a wave of pain crashes over me.

  I scream out as darkness sucks me under.

  Chapter 5

  You have to be strong, okay? Don’t give up. Be strong. Don’t let them break you. Cameron’s words echo through my mind as I dance between reality and unconsciousness. Every time I come to, my body is consumed by an excruciating pain. So much pain, I can barely process what’s happening to me. Punches, kicks, being beaten, needles in my skin, blood, hands around my throat, clothes getting torn, my life fading away…

  Why is this happening to me…

  It hurts so bad…

  Don’t give up. Be strong. Don’t let them break you. Cameron’s words echo through my thoughts again.

  The real fucked up part is that part of me wonders if he’s the one breaking me. I really have no idea since every time I open my eyes, the pain makes me pass back out, which might be for the better. At least I don’t know how badly I’m being broken.

  Tears sting at my eyes as I realize that eventually I may wake up from this and have to deal with the outcome. That my perfect life is no more.

  This is what you get for not being grateful… for wishing you could have a different life…

  This is what you get for what you did to Max.

  I choke on the thought. Or well, I think I do. I can’t really hear anything, other than my own thoughts, see anything, other than darkness, and feel anything, other than numbness.

  Maybe I can stay numb forever.

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel myself being tugged back toward the pain.

  No! I want to scream out. I want to hide in the dark forever!

  But no matter how hard I fight, I get pulled farther and farther away from the darkness and toward the pain.

  Chapter 6

  I don’t know what I was expecting when I opened my eyes, but I definitely didn’t picture myself lying in a bed with mounds of pillows under my head and a soft blanket pulled over me. Feeling strangely coherent for just waking up, I sit up and look around at the four dark purples walls, the tile floor, and the few furniture pieces placed sparsely around the room. Then I take in the domed ceiling and the door in the corner.

  “Okay, so I’m in a bedroom,” I mutter. “But not mine.”

  Confused beyond belief, I examine my body. With the searing pain I felt whenever I tiptoed back to reality, I expected my skin to be covered in cuts and bruises. But oddly, I can’t find a single wound. I glance at a mirror on the wall and take in my reflection. I’m not wearing the same clothes as I was at the party, now dressed in black shorts and a matching T-shirt. I cringe at the idea of someone changing me and wonder what else was done to me while I was passed out. Other than the new outfit and my skin being pale, I look the same, though.

  But I feel so different. Restless. Needing something, but I can’t figure out what.

  Just thinking about needing something makes my hands shake. What’s happening to me?

  I try to recall what happened but my skull pounds in protest and my stomach lurches. I rush to the side of the bed and throw up all over the floor. But apparently I haven’t had anything to eat because I end up dry heaving.

  “What’s happening to me?” I mumble through my dry heaves.

  “You’re in the process of changing?”

  My head snaps up and my eyes narrow at a man standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a black sweater with the sleeves rolled up, slacks, and shiny shoes. His short hair is white as snow except for a startling bright blue streak down the cent
er. If I had to guess his age, my bet would be in his late twenties.

  “Who are you?” I mumble, kneeling up on the bed. “Are you the one who brought me here… Are you the one who…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence since I don’t know what happened to me.

  He lingers in the doorway. “I’m the one who saved you. Or well, is going to save you.”

  I don’t trust him. At all.

  “Let me go,” I demand, hoping my mind controlling powers still work.

  He shakes his head. “That won’t work on me.”

  I frown, my heart tremoring in my chest. “Who are you?”

  “I already told you, I’m the person who’s going to save you.”

  “From what?” I ask, discreetly looking around for a place to escape. But the only way out that I can see is the door, and he’s blocking my route.

  He leans against the doorframe. “From yourself. From the curse. From a painful life full of death.”

  Great. Now I see what’s going on. I’ve been kidnapped by a nutjob.

  “I’m telling the truth,” he says as if reading my mind. “You were cursed, Remi, from the day you were born, and that curse was collected the moment you turned eighteen.”

  Faint memories of the town clock chiming midnight drift into my thoughts… I heard it right before the person grabbed me and dragged me off…

  I shake my head. “Then why has my life been so perfect?”

  “You think perfection like that doesn’t come with a price?” he asks with an arch of his brow.

  “I…” I have no idea what to say. While he might be crazy, he does have a point. I’ve often wondered how my life got so perfect. Plus, I can’t help but think about how my mom said that there was a time where life wasn’t so great for my family. “But I never asked for perfection.”

  Pity fills his eyes. “Yes, but someone close to you did and at your cost.”

  I swallow hard, not wanting to believe any of this, but every part of me is screaming that he’s telling the truth, as if I’ve suddenly become a living lie detector.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, pressing my hand to my forehead as the room begins to spin. “Why am I cursed? And what price do I have to pay?”

  “You’re cursed because someone in your life was very greedy.” He remains by the door, either to block my way out or keep his distance from me.

  Keep his distance from me? Where did that thought come from? Why would he want to keep his distance from me?

  “As for the price you have to pay,” he continues with hesitancy. “You’ve already paid it.”

  Confusion swirls in a hazy cloud, just like the room. “But I can’t remember anything?” I whisper hoarsely, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Something terrible happened to me…

  Something awful…

  But I can’t remember….

  Don’t want to…

  “It’s your mind’s way of coping with the pain,” the stranger explains as I struggle to breathe. “Don’t worry. It’ll get easier.”

  “What will?” I ask, gasping for air.

  I feel so out of control…

  So needy…

  My body and mind desire…

  Something…

  “The curse,” he says, inching back through the doorway.

  “Wait!” I stumble to my feet, not wanting him to go, but for a reason I can’t comprehend.

  I need something…

  I need something from inside him…

  “I thought the curse was over?” I stumble toward him, the need inside me growing. “That what happened to me…” My body involuntarily shudders. “That whatever happened to me was the price I paid?”

  He shakes his head, growing tenser the closer I get to him, as if he’s afraid of me. “Not that curse. I’m talking about the curse that saved you.”

  My skin dampens with sweat, my hands desperate to reach out and grab him, feed the thirstiness burning inside me. “What do you mean… Saved me from what?”

  “Saved you from death.” He takes a step back, his hand moving for his pocket. “The curse was supposed to kill you, Remi. The man that grabbed you at the party—he was there to kill you.”

  My skin grows ice cold as memories flicker through my mind of what the man did to me. But as vomit burns at the back of my throat, I hastily shove the memories away into the deepest part of my mind. “Then why am I still alive?”

  “Because I brought you back.”

  I wrap my arms around myself. “You revived me?” But deep down inside, I think I might know the answer.

  He didn’t revive me. He changed me. I can feel it in my bones, my heart, my blood, my soul… I press my hand to my chest. My chest feels empty, but my heart is there, pounding.

  “Something’s missing?” I murmur, confused yet not.

  “Yes, it is.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Your soul is gone. In order for us to save you, we had to trade your soul for your life.”

  “My soul is gone…” I massage my aching chest, shaking my head. “No, this is all a bad dream… Really, I passed out drunk at the party… I’m going to wake up soon and be in my bed and it’ll be my birthday.”

  The stranger looks at me with pity. “Your birthday’s come and gone. And I think you know I’m telling the truth. About all of this.”

  I shake my head in denial. “No,” I whisper. “You’re lying.”

  “Then what’s that hunger building in your chest?”

  I press my hand to my chest instinctively. “I don’t know.”

  “It’s from the new curse,” he explains with a strange hint of sadness in his tone. “From now on, it’ll always be there. But we’ll teach you how to harness it and use your powers for the greater good.”

  “Who are you?” I whisper, unsure whether to run forward and feed my hunger with him. Or run the hell away. “And what power?”

  “We’re an organization destined to save and rehabilitate special individuals such as yourself for a top secret superhero program,” he prattles off the information, as if he’s had this conversation a thousand times. “But you’ll learn more about that later. Right now, we need to feed your power before you lose control and I end up a snack.”

  “You’re fucking crazy.” I let out a sharp laugh, but the noise gets lost in the sound of my thundering heart.

  Feed.

  Kill.

  Take.

  Feed.

  Kill.

  Take.

  I step toward him, ready to do… Well, I’m not sure. But he rushes out of the room, withdrawing a gun from his pocket.

  I stop dead in my tracks.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he says quickly, but keeps the gun aimed at me. “This is just a tranquilizer gun, and I’ll only use it if I absolutely have to. So, please don’t make me have to.”

  I’m torn, one part of me wanting to rush at him and the other part of me wanting to hide. I feel like a monster. Scared. Confused. Overwhelmed.

  Hungry.

  I move forward and then back. Forward. Back.

  “Get in here!” The stranger shouts at someone as I continue to dance with my good and bad side. “She needs to feed!”

  Feed? Yes, I need to feed.

  My head lifts up as I step forward, deciding I’m going to give into my bad side. But I screech to a halt at the sight of the tall, blond haired, pierced guy I danced with at the party, now standing in the doorway.

  “C-Cameron?” I stammer. “What are you doing here?”

  A lazy smirk pulls at his lips as he steps into the room. He’s dressed in all back and wearing a… cloak?

  What the hell?

  “I’m here to take care of you,” he says as he takes another step toward me.

  I nervously step back. “Stay away from me.”

  He continues to move forward. “I don’t think that’s really what you want.”

  My jaw ticks, yet my mouth salivates to get closer to him. “The last time you came
near me, I was dragged away a little bit later. And then… Well, I can’t remember. And then I woke up here with some guy telling me that I died, I’m cursed, and that this is some superhero facility.” I press the palm of my hand to my forehead as an off pitched laugh spills from my lips. “Oh my God, this is crazy. I’m going crazy.”

  Cameron gives me a tolerant look as he stops in front of me. “You’re not crazy.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not. And you’ll feel much better once you’ve been fed.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Which is kind of the truth. I’m not hungry. For food, anyway.

  His smirk returns. “Yes, you are.” He reaches for me, grabs my hand, and yanks me toward him.

  The hunger inside me builds, an uncontrollable pressure starting in my chest and rising to my lips.

  “How are you going to feed me?” I whisper, dizzy with desire as I clutch onto the front of his cloak. “You don’t have any food.”

  “Food’s not what you want, sweetheart. And I think you know that.” He draws me closer until our bodies are flushed.

  I slowly sway my head from side to side, my concentration fixated on his lips. “You don’t have anything I want.”

  Instead of getting angry, a cocky grin spreads across his lips. “That’s not true at all.” Then he dips his lips toward my ear, his hot breath spilling across my skin. “Because I’m the Grim Reaper. And guess what, Remi? You have my blood inside you.” When I go rigid, he adds, “How do you think they saved you?”

  Grim Reaper! What the hell is going on! Have I lost my damn mind! Am I dead and this is my own personal hell!