Cursed in Love (Nora Moss Book 1)

by Zoe Ashwood

  Levi rubs his palm over the stubble on his jaw. “You’re not suggesting we do another full circle? If we just did one massive sweep with a radius of, say, a mile, we could safely eliminate any threats before even going in.”

  I ponder the question for a moment, then grimace. “No. There’s no time. It would take us hours, and we’d be too exposed. And,” I add when he opens his mouth to object, “it would leave you too depleted. I’m absolutely sure we’ll need your power more than mine once we actually get to the…” I wave my hand at the end of the valley. “Whatever is hidden up there.”

  He blows out a long breath. “Fine.” Then he turns to Raphaël. “Can you cover our backs?”

  Raphaël nods, looking not at all bothered with the fact that he’s been sidelined for the moment. This mission will require all our talents before it’s over. He’s been incredible so far, yes, but up to this point, he’s mostly taken care of organization stuff. His expertise in Ancient Egyptian art will only become useful once we reach the tomb or temple that’s probably waiting for us at the end.

  “Okay.” I reach for my power, drawing out handfuls of magic, and turn to the right flank of the valley. “You take left, I’ll take right. And if I find something, I’ll let you deal with it, yeah?”

  Levi nods, and I sense him gathering his own power. The fine hairs on my arms lift as static builds around us—the air is so dry, faint sparks crackle to life.

  “If you see our clothes catching fire, please put us out,” I instruct Raphaël, who gapes at me in alarm. “It’s unlikely, but…you never know.”

  With that, I close my eyes and focus on the path and the slope ahead. As I told Levi, we don’t have the time to do a deep search of the entire area. Gods only know what is hidden in these hills, and I frankly don’t want to dig up and destroy the remnants of Ancient Egyptian spells that aren’t directed at us. The land is supposed to be littered with little pockets of magic that flare up at the innocent passersby, which is why my protection spells were a necessity, regardless of homicidal modern witches.

  I sink my magical feelers into the sand accumulated at the floor of the valley. Taking small, slow steps forward, I probe the earth to discover any buried traps. The last thing I want is the ground to split open beneath us and swallow us whole or something.

  Levi and I walk side by side, with Raphaël trailing us, for several minutes. My magic hits nothing interesting apart from the lair of a fennec fox family which I really want to explore. But we don’t have the time, and I don’t want to disturb the litter of small, warm pups curled up against each other. Maybe all the curses and traps are concentrated inside the tomb? Or maybe I’ve watched too many Indiana Jones movies and this evil Egypt magic thing is just hyped-up and we’re in for an easy—

  My magic brushes against something large and cold buried in the ground. A heartbeat, and the sand in front of us explodes upward, the concussive force knocking me back and sending me flying. I hit the ground, and my head smacks the sand so hard, my teeth clack together and I taste blood. Groaning, I roll to my side and wince at the ache in my ribs.

  Fuck!

  My first attempt at standing leaves me sprawling in the dirt, and my second is barely any better—I stumble forward and nearly faceplant again. Metal shrapnel lies around me, and my arm stings where a piece must have grazed me. Then I lift my gaze and find Raphaël crouching over Levi, his hands pressing on a wound in his abdomen.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I call, then shuffle toward them. “Is he okay?”

  Levi mutters something and tries to bat Raphaël’s hands away, but the vampire pins him down, exerting more pressure. I crawl closer, and my stomach drops at the sight of Levi. His t-shirt is wet with blood, and by the grim expression on Raphaël’s face, the wound is no joke.

  “Levi?” I gasp, panic clawing at my chest. “How bad is it?”

  “I’ll be okay,” he grunts, but his face is ashen, and sweat breaks out on his brow.

  I grasp his hand. “What can I do?”

  My gaze drops down to where a large, dark-reddish-brown stain mars the otherwise clear rock. I gape at Levi. “How much blood did you lose? Did it nick an artery?”

  “I’m fine, Nora, stop—” he says. He tries to sit up but groans and lies back down.

  “Why didn’t my spell work?” I whisper.

  Raphaël grimaces at me. “It did. That thing flew straight at him but only penetrated an inch or two. If it wasn’t for the spell, he would have been impaled.”

  I glance down at a long piece of metal, sharp as a dagger. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of what could have happened. Still, we need to do something, fast. Levi’s losing so much blood.

  Blood.

  My eyes go wide, and I stare at Raphaël. “Oh gods,” I gasp. “Are you okay?”

  He lifts his gaze to me, and for a moment, I’m afraid I’ll see he has transformed into that black-eyed, fanged creature he showed us in Paris. But no, his eyes are a warm hazel, his teeth brilliantly white but regular-looking.

  “I’m okay,” he says.

  I swallow convulsively, trying not to freak out. Then I give in and voice my greatest worry. “Guys, this is crazy. We have to turn around. No prize is worth this. I can’t heal Levi, and he can’t heal himself, either.”

  Levi struggles to sit up. “Nora…”

  Raphaël pushes him down. “Don’t be stupid, man. This wound won’t kill you, but blood loss might if you try to run around right now.”

  I put my hand on Levi’s cheek. “Listen. My spells protected us, and we all got knocked on our asses. If I hit my head on a rock instead of sand, I could have cracked my skull open. And you’re cut up! This explosion could have killed any of us.”

  Raphaël shifts uncomfortably. “You two should discuss this alone. If you put your hands here, Nora…”

  I shoot out my hand and catch his wrist. I can’t let him go, not now. His quick thinking may have saved Levi from bleeding out, and we need him. “No, stay.” I slide my hand lower and grip his fingers. “You’re a part of this team.”

  A quick grin flashes over his face, disappearing almost instantly, and he kneels back down.

  “Okay,” I say, my voice only slightly wobbly. “So our options are to either press on with a wounded Levi, or leave.”

  Raphaël taps his fingers on his knee. “Not exactly.”

  Levi and I both turn to stare at him. A muscle ticks in Raphaël’s jaw, and a frown line appears between his eyebrows.

  “What?” I ask. “You want to call in more people?”

  Raphaël lowers his gaze to the ground. “Not that. But…” He rakes his fingers through his hair, leaving a smudge of Levi’s blood on his forehead.

  “Come on man, spit it out,” Levi grumbles.

  Raphaël sends him an irked glare. “I’m getting to it. So. I could feed you some of my blood.”

  The silence that follows his statement is complete. In the dusty desert valley, not even a trace of wind moves the air, and all animals have long since hidden in their burrows and nests to escape the midday heat.

  Then Levi sits up straight. “What would your blood do to me?”

  His expression appears neutral at the first glance, but his nostrils flare, and I can tell he’s rattled.

  Raphaël’s shoulders slouch forward. “It’s a vampire thing. In small amounts, vampire blood can heal. We’re imbued with regenerative magic—that’s why we can survive centuries. Or even millennia.”

  My hand shoots out without a conscious thought, and I grip his arm stronger than I intended. “You’re saying you can heal Levi?”

  He dips his chin. “Yes. That wound shouldn’t be a problem. There’s a limit to how much damage the blood can repair, but I think it’ll be enough to treat this.”

  Levi’s mouth opens, then closes again. He seems to be struggling with himself, and there’s no way I would try to influence his decision on this.

  Raphaël’s mouth pulls into an approximation of a smile. “You
won’t be turned into a vampire if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  Levi’s gaze shoots up to him, and he relaxes a little. “Oh, okay. Yeah. Thanks for that clarification.” He squeezes his hands into fists so hard, his knuckles turn white. Then he blows out a long breath. “What the hell, let’s do it.”

  Twenty-Four

  Levi

  Oh gods.

  What the fuck have I just agreed to?

  “Just, uh, out of curiosity,” I say as Raphaël unbuttons the cuff of his white shirt, “how do you turn into a vampire?”

  He sends me an amused look as if he knows I’m stalling. “If you die while the vampire blood is still coursing through your system, you wake up…undead. At dusk. Then you need to feed on human blood before sunrise of the next day. If you don’t, your body starts to decompose, and you die again, for good this time. But the truth is, the bloodlust is usually too strong for the undead to hold back.”

  “Ohhh,” Nora pipes up, “so romance novels got some parts right. You can walk in the sunlight, though. How do you feel about garlic?” Then she notices our glares and puts her hand over her mouth. “Okay, I’ll be quiet now,” she mumbles from around her fingers.

  Raphaël lets out a soft snort. He’s very close to me now, and his scent, though mixed with blood and dust, is amazing. Which is weird. I’ve never noticed a man’s scent before. His fingers are long and lean, and the skin on the inside of his wrist is smooth, light brown, and flawless.

  Next to him, I don’t feel like the competent curse-breaker I know I am. Somehow, his unflappable calm has me questioning everything. What I want from life. Who I want to be. He’s so damn…composed.

  If my stomach wasn’t gaping open, I wouldn’t even be considering this. But it hurts. So much. And the stark expression of fear on Nora’s face is enough to tell me how serious my injury is.

  Raphaël lifts his dark eyebrows in question.

  Fuck, the moment of truth.

  And he’s caught me staring. Which has happened too often since we met up with him. His presence is magnetic, and I can’t seem to look away.

  I don’t glance at Nora. She would tell me to make up my own mind. I know she wants to win this competition, but she was also the one who suggested we abort the mission. I want to win this. For her, yes, but also for myself. Gaining access to that library might give me the solution I need, a spell to rid myself of this heavy ball of guilt I’ve been lugging around for two years.

  “Fuck, okay.” I take a deep breath through my nose and blow it out through my mouth. “Let’s do this.”

  Raphaël blinks, and his eyes turn black. They glitter like the darkest night, fathomless and terrifyingly beautiful. So damn intriguing. Then his fangs descend, and he brings his mouth to his wrist. With a savage bite, he tears the skin there, severing the veins that hide underneath.

  He offers me the wound as blood drips down his chin.

  And curse it all to hell, I take it. With hands that shake only slightly, I grasp his wrist and bring it to my lips.

  The first taste of his blood is unremarkable and kind of nasty. It’s warm, but not as warm as I’d expected, and tastes a lot like human blood—metallic and, well, bloody.

  Then he presses his wrist more firmly to my mouth, and I take a deep pull from his wound.

  The euphoria hits me straight in the chest.

  It’s better than weed, better than alcohol. I’d bet this is what heroin feels like, a rush of perfect bliss stretching all through my body. The only thing that can compare is the orgasms I’ve experienced in the past couple of days—only with Nora. Nothing else has ever felt this good, and I swallow more, drowning in the sensation.

  Another moment, and Raphaël jerks his wrist away from me. I moan in protest. He licks the blood off his skin, the wound already sealing closed. His skin knits together as I watch, and I marvel at the gorgeous perfection of his inner arm. Raphaël’s nostrils flare on an inhale, and he leans in, his tongue darting out to lick a drop of blood from the corner of my mouth.

  He retreats instantly, settling at a distance of several feet away from me. With a visible shudder, he huddles in on himself, and when he next lifts his face, his fangs are gone and his eyes are their normal hazel color again.

  His breathing is still fast and erratic, though, and I bet I’m not the only one who has to hide his body’s reaction to whatever the fuck occurred between us.

  “Um.” Nora’s voice intrudes on our connection. “What just happened, guys? Levi? You okay?”

  I snap out of the spell that Raphaël’s blood put on me and drag my palm over my mouth.

  “Yeah,” I croak. “Great.”

  Nora glances from me to Raphaël and back again. That’s when I notice that her pupils are blown wide, even though the summer sun is bright as before, and her breasts lift with quick, puffy breaths.

  Raphaël utters a quick, melodic string of words that I’m pretty sure are French curses, gets up, and stalks away from us in the direction we came from.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  Nora bites her lip, peering at me from under her eyelashes. “That was really hot. The way you two stared at each other was…” She shivers despite the heat. “I mean, if it’s something you want to explore, I hope you know you’re free to do that. I sure as hell won’t complain, not after what happened between you and me—and also Raphaël.”

  She doesn’t finish her thought but lifts her shoulders in a helpless shrug. The thing is, I know exactly what she means. There’s no use being jealous of Raphaël if he turns me on, too.

  I grasp her hand and squeeze her fingers. “When did we get so deep in this mess, huh?”

  She laughs. “I don’t know. But the only way out is through. So.” She motions toward my ruined t-shirt. “Let’s see if the vampire blood worked.”

  I remove the bloody, torn fabric, then pause and stare down at my stomach. There’s a scar underneath, two inches long, but it looks weeks old, at least, pink and healed over, the scab peeling off already.

  The wound was deep, but there’s no pain anymore, either. My torn abdominal muscle had stitched itself together.

  Nora gasps and trails her fingers down the scar tissue, wiping away traces of dried blood and crusty stuff. “This is incredible. And also gross.”

  I bat her hands away. She laughs and scrubs her fingers with sand. I roll my eyes, though on the inside, I’m far from okay.

  I’ve performed small healing spells all my life, courtesy of my father’s legacy, but I’ve never had my wounds healed with so little effort. If it became common knowledge that vampire blood possessed healing properties, they’d be hunted down—but not killed. No, humans and witches alike would lock them up and study them to extract whatever magic made them so good at regenerating.

  If my father found out, he’d take Raphaël apart in his search for knowledge.

  Clenching my jaw, I push to my feet. Raphaël ambles closer, seeming much more in control of himself than before.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “For the healing. And for telling us about what your blood can do.”

  He eyes me in silence for a moment, then asks, “Are we moving on, then?”

  So he doesn’t want to talk about it. Fine. I can pretend everything is normal. No problem. I shoulder my backpack and turn to Nora.

  “What do you say, boss?”

  She sends me a glare. “I blew up that trap. I’m not really looking forward to causing more explosions.”

  Oh yeah, the explosion. I study the valley, rubbing a palm over the stubble on my chin. There’s a good chance more traps are hidden beneath the sand, waiting to be sprung.

  “I’ll go first,” I tell her. “You can only sense magic. I think that trap was rigged just for that. As soon as magic touched it, it went off. I could contain it or dismantle it if I felt it in time.”

  She nods, apprehensive. “Okay, but I’m placing another layer of protection on you.”

  Raising her hands, she mutters a
magic spell, but I step into her space and grab her by the shoulders.

  “No, you’re not,” I tell her, keeping my voice calm despite the exasperation welling up inside me. “You need to step back and let me do this.”

  Nora gazes up at me with big brown eyes, her hat nearly falling off her head. She opens her mouth as though to argue, so I lower my head, stealing a kiss from her. It’s a little rough, a little desperate, because we’ve nearly been killed several times over now, and if I do get blown to pieces, I want as many kisses as I can get.

  Lifting my head, I find her clinging at my shirt, her pink lips parted. She’s so gorgeous, I want to keep kissing her, but we need to move on. My injury has already caused a delay that might have given our pursuers a chance to catch up.

  Reluctantly, I release Nora and push her gently toward Raphaël. The vampire gives me a knowing glance and wraps his arm around Nora’s shoulders. He’ll keep her out of the way. Maybe it’s the remnants of his blood still coursing through my body, or maybe we’ve just come to some sort of an understanding, but I grin at him, happy to have him guard my back.

  Then I face the valley again.

  And take the first step forward.

  Twenty-Five

  Nora

  “You can let go of me now,” I whisper to Raphaël who has apparently taken on the role of my human—or superhuman—shield. “I won’t run ahead and get myself blown up, promise.”

  He looks down at me in amusement. “But holding you is so much fun.”

  With cool fingers, he traces a pattern over my neck, the only exposed part of my skin.

  “Then I can do this,” he continues.

  Leaning closer, he presses a soft kiss to the spot just below my ear, and I lean my head to the side to give him better access. A sigh escapes me, loud in the quiet of this dusty desert valley.

  Then I remember myself and nudge him in the ribs with my elbow. “Stop distracting me.”

  Raphaël grins but keeps his grip on me. “Maybe I simply want to hold you.”