Cursed Superheroes (Books 1-3)

by Jessica Sorensen

  Her eyes briefly widened, but then she collected herself. “Go clean your room, Ava, and do your homework, or whatever the hell kids your age are supposed to be doing.”

  My heart hurt that she dismissed what Larry had done to me. I was pissed off, too.

  “What’re you going to do about Larry?”

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “I think the real question is: what am I gonna do with you? I can’t have another woman seducing my man.”

  I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t seduce him.”

  She eyed me over. “Oh yeah, then why are you wearing that short dress?”

  The dress went to my knees, so I didn’t understand what the hell she was talking about, not like it really mattered.

  “What I’m wearing has nothing to do with what happened. No guy should ever touch a girl without her permission, and he didn’t have my permission!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure he didn’t.”

  Fuming and hurt more than I’ll ever admit, I turned and stomped toward my room.

  “And Ava,” she called out. “If I ever hear about anything happening between Larry and you again, you won’t be welcome in my house anymore, got it?”

  “Got it,” I gritted out.

  It was the last time I openly spoke with my grandma. From then on, I avoided her at all costs, and it felt like she did the same with me. I also avoided being in the house as much as I could, crashing on couches or park benches. Sometimes I had to go home, and whenever I did, Larry was there, waiting to remind me that my grandma cared more about him than me. That made him think he owned me.

  One day, I’m going to make both of them pay, I think to myself as I weave my way through the crowded bar I entered using my fake ID. I try not to touch people, because I fucking hate being touched, as I make my way to the back doors. Once I get outside, my grandma gave me specific instructions on what to do next.

  First, a guy is going to wander down the alleyway to make a drug drop near the far back dumpster. He’ll leave the drugs underneath a crate. I’ll have exactly one minute to grab the drugs and get the hell out of there before the person who bought the drugs shows up.

  So, yeah, I’m basically about to steal from a drug dealer, which yes, I know isn’t very smart. But, not only did my grandma threaten me with all three of us being homeless if I didn’t do this, but she also said she’d get rid of everything I owned, including the few photos I have of my parents. That was what really did me over.

  So, here I am, about to rob a drug dealer. It’s not the first time I’ve stolen or anything, but definitely the first time I’ve stolen from this sketchy of a person.

  I sigh as I reach the back door of the bar. One day, I’m going to say goodbye to this shitty life and take off. Then my grandma and Larry won’t have me around to get money for them after they’ve spent all of their finances on drugs, whores, strip clubs—the list is endless.

  I crack the door open and peek outside, checking to make sure no one is around. Once I’m positive the coast is clear, I slip out the door and step beneath the starry night sky. The air is a bit chilly, so I pull my leather jacket tighter around me before hurrying toward the dumpsters. Puddles splash underneath my clunky boots, and the chains hooked to my black skinny jeans jingle as I quicken my pace to a jog.

  When I hear the sound of a voice, I jump behind the nearest dumpster and crouch down in the shadows. Then I hold my breath and freakin’ hope to hell I don’t get caught.

  My heart is thudding in my chest as someone approaches the other side of the dumpster I’m hiding behind. Whoever they are, they are taking loud, calculated steps. Seriously, what’re they doing? Auditioning for the marching band?

  As the footsteps grow louder, my nerves double. What happens if they saw me sneak back here? What happens if I get caught? My grandma said not to back out no matter what, and I rarely do, but how can I not back out if the drug dealer straight-up figures out what I’m up to? Then again, he might kill me, and then I won’t have to make the choice. Wouldn’t that be a way to go? Dying behind a dumpster, beside rotting garbage and what I’m pretty sure is a dead cat …

  Ew!

  I inch away from the dead cat and pull the collar of my T-shirt over my nose.

  “I know you’re back there,” a male voice drifts from the other side of the dumpster, “so you might as well just come out.”

  I literally stop breathing. Shit! Shit! Shit!

  “Or, I can just come back there,” the guy suggests, sounding kind of bored. “If that’s what you prefer.”

  Dammit, I’m so screwed!

  I rack my brain for a good lie as I push to my feet and inch out from behind the dumpster. What waits for me on the other side isn’t what I expected.

  “You’re not the drug dealer,” I say, eyeing over the guy in front of me. Or, well, I think he’s a guy.

  He’s definitely male, tall, lean, with blond hair that hangs in his eyes. But underneath the moonlight, his eyes look silver, and his lips are black, perhaps from lipstick? He does have the whole Goth vibe going, dressed in clunky boots, black jeans, a black fitted T-shirt, topped with a black vest embellished with silver chains. None of that explains why his veins show clearly through his pale skin …

  What the hell?

  I blink and blink again, wondering if I accidentally inhaled too much secondhand smoke before I left the house. Larry and my grandma were toking it up pretty hard. Then again, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen things that weren’t real. Sometimes, when I’m really tired and sleep deprived, I think I see my parents’ ghosts. My grandma told me I was probably just batshit crazy, like my mom, who apparently claimed she saw ghosts, too.

  I frown. “I’m seeing things again, aren’t I?” I scratch my head. “Although, you don’t look like a ghost.”

  The corner of his black lips quirk, but he never quite fully smiles. “That’s because I’m not.”

  I cross my arms, my guard up. “Then, what are you?”

  He stares at me undecidedly for a beat or two. “A zombie.”

  Ava

  I start to bust up laughing until I note the seriousness in his expression. Well, seriousness might be a stretch. More like expressionless, like a blank canvas.

  “A zombie?” I repeat, staring at him blankly. Then it clicks. “Oh, I get it. You’re tripping on something.”

  His brows knit. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are.” I pat his arm. “It’s okay. My grandma goes on bad trips all the time. She even thought she was a fairy once. It took me two hours to convince her that she needed to stop trying to spit fairy dust in my face which, FYI, was just spit. Eventually, the drugs faded out of her system and she was fine.”

  He stares at his shoulder where I patted him then lifts his gaze to mine. “I’m not high. I’m being serious. I’m a zombie, and I’m here to save you.”

  Great. This is worse than I thought. Either this guy is high as a motherfucker or he’s a complete nutjob.

  “Thanks for the offer,” I say, backing away from him, “but I promise you, I don’t need saving.”

  “Yes, you do.” He matches my step, eyeing me over with a strange look in his eyes. “You’re cursed. And soon that curse will be collected.”

  I fleetingly pause. Larry said something similar before. Am I cursed? Then I shake my head. Seriously, Ava, you think you’re cursed because your grandma’s perverted boyfriend and a guy who thinks he’s a zombie said you were?

  Yeah, I definitely think I got high on secondhand smoke.

  “Look, thanks for the offer to help me,” I tell Zombie Guy, “but I promise you, I’ll be okay. Just as long as you take off. I got some business to attend to, and if you’re around and I get caught, you’ll probably get your ass kicked. Or worse. And I’d rather that not happen.”

  A crease forms between his brows. “You’re worried I’ll get hurt?”

  “Yes, so please, just get the hell out of here.” I try to shoo him away.

  His feet re
main planted to the asphalt, the crease between his brows deepening. “You’re trying to help me?”

  I let out a frustrated groan. “I am, but if you keep doing this weird, shocked, no-one-could-possibly-want-to-help-me thing, I’m going to bail out and let you fend for yourself.” I put my hands on my hips as he continues to stare at me like a confused puppy. “Seriously, dude, what is with the lost, confused puppy act?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  I roll my eyes. “Sure you don’t. I bet that’s what you tell every girl who falls for the look, right?”

  He shakes his head, sending strands of hair into his freakishly gorgeous eyes. “No, there are no girls who fall for the look.”

  “Okay, well, then guys.”

  “No guys, either.”

  I grimace, growing more on edge. “You know what, it doesn’t really matter, just as long as you leave. Now.” I begin to push him in the direction of the road, but freeze when I hear someone coming down the alleyway. “Shit.” Panicking, I snag Zombie Guy’s sleeve and tug him with me as I duck behind the dumpster.

  “What are you doing?” Zombie Guy asks as I crouch down and pull him with me.

  I cover his mouth with my hand. “Shhh … Just be quiet for a minute, okay?”

  Surprisingly, he nods.

  Well, he may be crazy, but at least he listens.

  I hold my breath as footsteps approach the other side of the dumpster. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I still have my hand over Zombie Guy’s mouth. I can’t feel the warmth of his breath, which is strange. What makes the situation even more bizarre is when he places a kiss on my palm.

  My gaze snaps toward him, and I blast him with a what the hell look.

  His lips move against my palm as he whispers, “You smell good.”

  I put my finger to my lips and scowl at him, indicating for him to shut the hell up. Although, deep down, my heart does a stupid little flutter from his compliment.

  Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’m going to hook up with him or anything. I mean, sure the guy is hot, but he also thinks he’s a zombie. Plus, I don’t do hookups or dating or kissing or anything else like that. And I won’t. I promised myself a long time ago that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. And I’m sticking to my promise no matter what. Besides, hating to be touched by people kind of complicates getting close to anyone.

  I try my best to ignore Zombie Guy, lowering my hand from his mouth. Then I listen for signs that whoever entered the alleyway is still there. It’s hard to concentrate with Zombie Guy staring at me.

  He watches me intently before inching closer and tilting his head to the side. Then he reaches for me and plays with the strands of my long brown hair for a bit. I want to tell him to back the hell off, but I’m too nervous to speak. My nerves only skyrocket when he dips his head toward me and licks a slow path up my neck.

  “You taste good, too,” he whispers, then licks me again.

  What the shit is happening? And why am I not stopping it? Not only am I not stopping it, but I shudder. Actually freakin’ shudder.

  By the time he moves away, my heart is a clusterfuck of a wreck inside my chest.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Zombie Guy says to me, trailing his finger across my hairline. “I won’t let anyone do anything to you. You’re too nice.”

  “No, I’m not,” I whisper. “Trust me.”

  “But you are.” He skims his finger along my jawline, tracking the movement with his gaze, seeming mesmerized. “I don’t care what Leader says. We don’t need another one of me running around. I’m going to save you from this.”

  My lips part to ask him what he means, when the dumpster goes sailing across the alleyway and crashes into the building. Garbage flies everywhere, causing the air to reek of spoiled milk and rotten eggs.

  I spring to my feet, preparing to run like hell. I pull Zombie Guy up with me, not wanting to leave him behind. Sure, the guy is straight-up crazy, in a sweet way, sort of, but he doesn’t deserve to get into trouble for something I was about to do.

  However, what I see standing in the center of the alleyway makes me slam to a halt.

  It isn’t the drug dealer. It’s …

  I blink. “Mom?”

  Ava

  My mom smiles at me, reaching toward me.

  I start to walk toward her, but Zombie Guy clutches my hand, holding me back.

  “Don’t. It’s a trap,” he warns, stepping up beside me in a protective move.

  I dither, glancing from him to my mom, unsure what to believe. On the one hand, the guy next to me declared he was a zombie and that he needed to save me from being cursed. On the other hand, my mom has been dead for years, so…

  Ding, dong. Ding, dong. Ding, dong.

  The town clock chimes twelve, announcing the next day has arrived.

  My mom smiles. “Happy birthday, Ava.”

  My heart warms in my chest, until her face starts to melt like candle wax, dripping down her body and pooling around her bare feet.

  My body glazes with a deathly chill, goosebumps sprouting across my arms.

  “Run.” Zombie Guy tugs on my arm as he takes off down the alleyway toward the street.

  I run with him, clutching his hand, my heart thrashing in my chest.

  My mind is racing a million miles a minute, questions flooding my brain. Who was that? What was that? Most of all …

  “That wasn’t my mom,” I whisper, my heart feeling as though it’s splitting into two.

  For the briefest moment, I thought she was alive, that she’d somehow come back from the dead. But I should’ve known that wasn’t possible. People don’t just come back from the dead, do they?

  “No, that wasn’t your mom.” Zombie Guy quickens his pace as we near the end of the alleyway.

  “Then, what was it?” I talk loudly over the hammering of our footsteps.

  He peers over his shoulder at me, and for a split-second, I swear I see fear in his eyes. “It was—” He grinds to a sudden stop as a figure materializes in front of us, blocking the end of the alley and our only exit.

  I squint through the darkness, trying to see who the person is. Since they have a hood pulled over the top of their head, all I can make out is that they’re freakishly tall with broad shoulders and gleaming red eyes.

  What the shit? Red eyes?

  I blink several times, trying to erase the hallucination, but nothing changes. So, either I’ve lost my damn mind and I’m not coming back from Crazyville, or this shit is really happening.

  “Fuck,” Zombie Guy curses, then flips a bitch, towing me with him. Again, he screeches to a stop as the figure with red eyes appears in front of us again.

  Zombie Guy whirls around. Again, the figure is there. Over and over again, the same thing happens until finally we’re backed into a corner.

  Zombie Guy refuses to let go of my hand, moving me closer to him.

  The figure stands in front of us, eyeing me over with his glowing red eyes. “Ava, it’s so nice to meet you. I’ve been waiting a long time to collect your curse.”

  “You won’t be collecting her curse,” Zombie Guy growls. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

  “And who’s going to stop me? You?” The figure takes a measured step toward Zombie Guy. “You couldn’t stop me even if you were able to. Your Leader needs Ava’s curse to be collected.”

  “Wait. What?” I eyeball the two of them, fear pulsating through my veins. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is you’re about to give me what I’m owed.” The figure reaches for me.

  Zombie Guy smacks his hand away. “Don’t touch her.” Then he lets go of my hand and inches toward the figure. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Ava is going to walk out of here, alive, and everyone is going to leave her alone.”

  The figure laughs. “You think, even if she walked away from this, she’d be left alone? Newsflash, Dead Boy, no one has left Ava alone since she was fifteen.” It flicks a glance in my dire
ction. “Isn’t that right, Ava?”

  My head is spinning. How does he know about that? How does he know my name? How does Zombie Guy know my name?

  I swallow down a shaky breath, my hands curling into fists. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Or what?” it taunts, turning toward me.

  I stand my ground, though I’m terrified. “Or your mouth is going to become really acquainted with my fist.”

  The figure’s eyes flash a brighter red. “I’d like to see you try.”

  I raise my fist. “Fine, then you will.”

  Zombie Guy captures my fist before I can throw a punch.

  “Don’t touch him,” he warns, his gaze colliding with mine. “If you do, then you’ll die.”

  A cold chill slithers down my spine as the figure howls with laughter.

  “So, you’re breaking orders?” it asks Zombie Guy amusedly. “Good. I wasn’t going to let Leader take this over again. He may have stolen two of my cursed girls already, but he will not get a third. I will not let him win this thing going on between him and I.” His eyes flash so brightly I have to close my eyes.

  Zombie Guy yells something, but the noise is overtaken by a loud snap. Before I can even process what’s going on, my legs give out on me and I collapse to the ground, unable to feel my body, my soul—feel anything.

  For the wildest moment, I feel at peace. Then a wave of pain rolls over me.

  “I’m dying,” I croak out, darkness and pain surrounding me.

  “No, you’re not,” Zombie Guy’s voice echoes through the darkness. “I didn’t want it to go this way for you, Ava. I’m so sorry.”

  “For what …?” I barely get the words out before a blinding hot pain scorches through my wrist, as if teeth have sunken into my flesh.

  Then the pain magnifies, flaring through my veins, my heart, my brain—everywhere.

  The last thing I hear is a scream tearing from my lips. Then everything goes still.

  As still as if I were dead.