Cursed Luck, Book 1

by Kelley Armstrong

“Didn’t Vanessa say Havoc was your head of security?”

  “She carries out orders very well. Strategy is not her strong suit.”

  “Unless the goal is chaos. Pissing you off while living up to her name.”

  More grumbling. We reach the location. We’ve brought two cars—Marius and I are in Connolly’s while Ani went with Jonathan in his. Marius had an SUV big enough to take us all, but we want our own vehicles in case we need to make a getaway.

  When Marius sees the final location, he’s slightly mollified. She’s chosen a farmhouse surrounded by fields. An adequate strategic choice. We’d be thwarted if we’d planned any kind of onslaught, but we haven’t, so this is fine.

  Havoc—flanked by two guards—meets us in the driveway.

  “Who’s that?” Havoc says, gesturing at Jonathan.

  “Our librarian,” I say.

  She gives me a sour look. “Does this really seem like the time for jokes?”

  “Ever seen Buffy? Jonathan is our Giles. Velma, if you prefer Scooby-Doo. The research guy. Every magical-crime-busting gang needs one.”

  Her eyes narrow. “I don’t care who he is. He isn’t invited.”

  “Maybe not, but he’s here to help. You do want that necklace uncursed. That isn’t just a ruse to get something you really want, right?”

  “Kennedy is correct,” Marius cuts in. “Jonathan provides valuable resources, and they need all the support they can get to uncurse this necklace. Ask to see his ID. Run a background check. Pat him down. Wand him. Do whatever you need to assure yourself he isn’t a threat.”

  “Threat?” She sniffs. “He’s mortal. I can smell him rotting just like the rest of them.” She turns to her guards. “Search them. Confiscate their phones. Bring them inside.”

  I walk through that door behind Ani, who then tugs me up beside her, looping her arm through mine. Connolly’s straining to see into the house, just like Ani. Looking for our siblings, listening for their voices. All is quiet, though.

  The guards lead us into a large room. The living room, I’d presume, but the house has been stripped of all furniture, and it’s just a big and empty room with boarded-up windows. One door is also boarded, the wood so fresh I can smell it. Removing all possible exits except the entrance, which the guards promptly flank.

  We walk in and—

  Marius stops so abruptly his shoes squeak. He turns on Havoc. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  I know who it is without looking. Hector stands in the corner, leaning against the wall, a cane in one hand. He has the same expression of bored annoyance he wore to the museum gala, but as his gaze shoots toward the door, there’s a malicious gleam in his eye. That gleam fades when Havoc’s guards shut the door behind us.

  “She’s not here,” Marius says.

  There’s a pinprick of disappointment before Hector finds his sneer. “So that’s what you get for your grand gesture? You try to win the necklace so you can present it at the feet of your goddess, only to have her kick you in the face.” He snorts. “You don’t give up, do you? You’ll never see her for the ungrateful bitch she is.”

  Marius stiffens at the ungrateful bitch part, but it’s only a flash of anger before he finds his calm and a winsome smile.

  “Nah,” he says. “Yes, that was my plan, and Vess isn’t thrilled that I kidnapped the Bennett girl to do it, but she knows my heart is in the right place. Relationships aren’t about putting the other person on a pedestal . . . or in a pretty cage. They’re about making an effort to understand what the other needs and providing it where possible. Whatever mistakes I make, Vess always knows where she stands with me, and I know where I stand with her. Venus and Mars, planets that sometimes have the entire earth between them, but are always within each other’s sight.” He glances at Hector. “Then there are those who aren’t even in the same solar system.”

  Hector’s face darkens. Havoc walks between them. “And as much fun as it is to watch you two spar, today there’s a new pretty bauble for you to fight over.”

  Havoc takes a pouch from her jacket’s inside pocket, and she slides the necklace out onto one gloved hand. “Shall I start the bidding at one million? I know you can both afford it.” She turns to Marius. “Unless you’d like to offer something other than money. I hear there’s an opening in your company. I always liked Carson’s job better than my old one.”

  Damn, that didn’t take long.

  “Whoa, what?” I say. “An auction? I thought we were here for an unweaving.”

  “First, the auction. Then the unweaving . . . if Marius wins it. Hector likes the necklace just the way it is.”

  “No, no, no,” I say. “You’ve cursed my sister. You did that so we’d be forced to fix the necklace for you.”

  Havoc hesitates. Marius and Vanessa were right. Havoc acts without thinking through her strategy. She put the necklace on Hope for extra drama. Then she realized how much more fun she could have pitting her father and uncle against each other.

  “Kennedy is correct,” Connolly says. “According to the video, you cursed Hope as an incentive for the Bennett sisters to provide the unweaving. I presume Hector won’t want the necklace if the curse is removed.”

  “That presumes they can uncurse it,” Havoc says as she recovers. “Which I very much doubt. Fine, the auction is for the final product. Marius? Just remember that the girl’s situation is your fault. You kidnapped her. Perhaps you want to consider offering me Carson’s job? I—”

  “Hector?” I cut in. “You’ve been set up. You see that, right? You’re only here to put the screws to Marius. Now you’re being asked to bid on the necklace, not knowing what condition it’ll be in a few hours from now. Havoc expects you to pay the same price for it, cursed or uncursed. Is that what you signed up for?”

  “There’s an easy fix,” Connolly says. “The necklace should be auctioned off after the Bennetts attempt to remove the curse. That way, all parties understand what they are getting.”

  “I’ll bid afterward,” Hector says. “I want to know what I’m getting. These children aren’t going to be able to uncurse it, but it’ll be fun to watch them try.”

  That’s settled, then. Havoc doesn’t see the trap I’ve set. If we do uncurse the necklace, then Hope is free. I can tell Marius what Vanessa said—that she only needs the curse removed. Marius won’t need to bargain with Havoc to get the necklace itself.

  “Now bring out our sister,” Ani says. “We’ll need her help.”

  “She’s already seen it,” Havoc says. “It’s beyond her skill level.”

  “What?” I say. “No, the deal was that we’d all try—”

  “And she has.”

  “That may be,” Connolly says. “But my brother’s luck weaving could also help—”

  “Nope. You’ve got the best luck weaver of all there.” Havoc nods at Marius. “You don’t need your brother. And you girls don’t need your sister—unweaving isn’t a group effort. Your siblings stay hidden until you’ve done this.”

  Which is ridiculous. Hope has been cursed—we aren’t going to grab her and run. This is the problem dealing with irrational people. You can’t reason with them. We try. We all try, even Marius, until Hector finally says, “How about I just buy that damned necklace and skip the bullshit? You’re walking on thin ice with me already, Havoc, and that’s a dangerous place to be.”

  “Fine,” she says, turning to us. “Is that what you want? I sell the necklace to Hector? Leave your poor sister cursed forever? Because you can be damned sure he isn’t ever going to uncurse it.”

  This isn’t right. It’s not right at all, and I don’t know whether we’re being tricked or Havoc is just throwing her weight around.

  Push harder, though, and Havoc will do what it seems Havoc does best. Make rash and reckless decisions. She’ll forget her ultimate goal—getting back to her father’s side—and just sell Hector the necklace to punish Marius out of pure spite.

  Ani asks Havoc for a table, and she’s nice e
nough about it that Havoc sends a guard to fetch one. What he finds looks like the sort of thing homeowners leave behind when they move—a rickety occasional table. Ani has a piece of velvet in her kit to set the necklace on, my sister being so much more particular about these things than I am. With our gloves in place, we arrange the necklace on the cloth and prepare to begin.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  I’d admired the copy of the necklace at the gala. I don’t do the same for the real one. Yes, I can see the difference, excellent workmanship raised to grand-master level. But the craftsman is the asshole sneering at us from across the room.

  This necklace is ugly and twisted, a mockery of a lover’s gift. All I want is to get the damned curse off it and see Hector’s face when I do.

  Ani and I lay out the necklace. Then we stand on either side of the table, gloved fingers on it, and we focus independently, each reading—

  “Oh!” Ani says, jerking back before I’ve even sunk into listening mode.

  “It bites, doesn’t it?” Havoc says, with a smug smile. “That’s what your sister said. Like the jaws of a trap snapping shut. Feel free to give up now.”

  Ani glares at her. “It startled me, that’s all.”

  I motion that I’m going to move away and let Ani take the floor, undistracted. She barely notices—she’s already targeted her laser-beam focus back on the necklace. I go and stand by Connolly. His hand brushes mine and then squeezes, and even that brief touch feels like a grounding wire for my sparking fear. I squeeze his hand back, and then we stand there, close enough that the backs of our hands touch.

  Ani keeps at it for about ten minutes, her expression impenetrable. Finally, she steps back with a frustrated growl.

  “I’ve never encountered anything like this,” she says to me. “I can feel the curse there, but when I get close, it’s as if someone wipes the board clean and flings chalk dust in my eyes. Poisoned chalk dust.” She makes a face. “That sounds silly. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

  I turn to Havoc. “We need to speak to Hope. It will help to know what she experienced.”

  “That’s what she said. So I came prepared.” She takes a piece of paper from her pocket. “She said to tell you that it was ‘like one of Kennedy’s invisible ink tricks.’ She saw the curse, but then ‘the words disappeared,’ and she got ‘some kind of psychic shock.’”

  “Yes,” Ani murmurs. “That’s it. A psychic shock.”

  “She said that the person who kidnapped her—Marius—thought it was a lover’s lament, but it’s not. She couldn’t tell what it was, but she knew it wasn’t that.”

  “Of course it’s not,” Hector says to Marius. “If you thought I ever loved that bitch—”

  “You didn’t,” Marius says, his voice soft but cutting through the room. “That was the problem.”

  Hector bristles and grumbles, but we’ve already turned our attention back to the necklace.

  “My turn to take a shot,” I say. “At least I know what to expect.” I turn a hard look on Havoc. “Which helps.”

  She sniffs. “Nothing will help you, little girl. I don’t know why anyone thinks it can be uncursed. It is the work of a master. The ultimate master.”

  “Mercury,” I say. “We know.”

  She deflates a little, only to come back with, “Well, give it a try. This should be fun.”

  As I step forward, Connolly touches my arm. “Is there anything I can do? Bolster your luck?”

  I shake my head. “At this point, luck doesn’t have anything to do with it. Either I hear the curse, or I don’t. I’ll need the luck when I’m unweaving it.”

  Connolly glances at Marius, who nods, confirming.

  “Is there anything I can do, then?” he says.

  “Clear the room so I can focus?” I say with a half smile.

  “Not a chance, girl,” Hector says. “We aren’t walking away so you can pull some trick.”

  “You mean you’re not doing anything that’ll make this easier for me,” I shoot back.

  “How about noise-canceling headphones?” Connolly says. “I have a pair in my— No, you hear curses, right? That might interfere.”

  “It won’t. If you could get them, that would be great.”

  Havoc sighs but sends a guard with Connolly. He returns with a pair of headphones. I tug them in place, turn on the noise-cancel, and the room’s sound deadens.

  “Whoa,” I say. “These are so much better than mine.”

  Connolly says something I can’t hear. I lift one earpiece.

  “I said if you pull this off, they’re yours.”

  “I wouldn’t take your headphones, Connolly. You can buy me a new pair.”

  His lips twitch. “Get my brother out of this, and my family will owe you far more than a pair of headphones.”

  “Nah, that’s enough. Just headphones and your eternal gratitude.”

  His eyes warm as his smile grows. “It’s a deal. Now hold up your end of the bargain.”

  “I intend to.”

  That’s bravado, of course, but it helps, a surge of false confidence that my brain mistakes for the real thing. Headphones in place, I position the table between me and the wall with everyone else hidden behind me. When Havoc tries to get in my line of vision, Connolly motions her back. Her mouth sets, but after a look toward Marius, she steps away. I smile once for Connolly and again for Ani and Jonathan. Then I turn to the necklace and shut out the world.

  Ani and Hope described seeing the curse hovering there, a mirage that vanished when they homed in on it. I get silence. Peaceful silence. I run a gloved finger over the necklace with my eyes shut, and then it comes, the barest whisper, as tantalizing as a half-heard secret.

  I love the secrets of strangers. If I see girls leaning together to whisper on the bus, I turn off my music to eavesdrop. I can’t help it. I’d respect their privacy if I knew them, but the secrets of strangers are delicious and, arguably, harmless. When this curse whispers, I want to strain toward it. Then I remember Ani and Hope’s experience, and I stop myself.

  I stop, and I wait, and I regroup. Then I put out my feelers again. When the whisper comes, I don’t try to hear what’s being said. I block out words and focus on the notes, the music, the envelope surrounding those words. That lets me draw close enough to hear a tangle of melodies. A knot. A puzzle. Like the dagger letter. Rip it open, and I’ll destroy the contents.

  I mentally unweave the tangle, and when I do, the tune evaporates, leaving only words.

  What am I?

  I’m so focused on the tune that the words seem incidental, as if someone in the room has asked, and I answer without thinking.

  “Jinx,” I whisper. “Joker’s jinx.”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, horror fills me. I spoke too soon. Didn’t think it through. Even if it is a jinx, those words would have meant nothing to Mercury millennia ago, when she wove this curse.

  Yes.

  I open my eyes, certain that word must have come from someone else. But no one seems to have spoken, and the headphones mean I couldn’t have heard them even if they did.

  Then I realize something else. The words are in English.

  I should panic then. I should think this necklace is another fake. Except it’s not, and my gut knows that, and my instinct says this is magic, deep magic, the likes of which I’ve never encountered.

  Who am I for?

  Now I do hesitate. I clear my throat.

  “You were created for Hephaestus, who said he wanted to give you to Aphrodite, but he gave you to Harmonia instead.”

  A very complete answer. I believe they call that “hedging your bets.” Try again.

  I glance over at Ani. Her brows lift in question.

  I want to tell her what’s happening. To ask her if she’s ever encountered such a thing.

  Magic. Deep, impossibly deep magic.

  “Is this Mercury?” I say. “Mercy?”

  There’s a shuffle in the room, and I catch C
onnolly’s frown, but I shake my head and turn away.

  Please restrict your responses to the options offered. Thank you!

  “Can you offer me more options?” I say.

  This necklace provides a limited range of interactive ability. Please restrict your responses to the options offered. Thank you!

  “In other words, yes, this is Mercury, but no, you can’t help.”

  Allow me to repeat the question. And consider carefully before you respond. Who am I for?

  “You were intended for Aphrodite.”

  Intended. Yes! Such a lovely, flexible word. It does not, however, answer the question. The necklace was for Aphrodite. And the curse? Consider carefully with all the information available to you. Feel free to ask a friend to help. Be aware, though, that only the weaver knows the true intended victim.

  “Wanna be my friend?” I say.

  I swear the voice chuckles.

  The weaver cannot provide the answer you require. It is beyond her abilities.

  “In other words, I need to make an educated guess.”

  Preferably very educated. This SAT contains only a single question.

  SAT. College entrance. That’s what she’d joked about in her card. An image of the card flashes back. First planet from the sun.

  Then there are those who aren’t even in the same solar system.

  I’m not sure why that line from Marius pops into my head. He’d been needling Hector, because Hephaestus—or Vulcan—didn’t get a planet.

  Vulcan.

  I open my eyes and spin to face Jonathan as I lower the headphones. “Star Trek.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says carefully.

  “Spock is a Vulcan, right? That’s his race.”

  He nods, still careful, as if struggling to make a connection.

  I continue. “Live long and prosper. Spock might say that, but it’s a Vulcan greeting. It represents his race. Which is named after . . .” I nod toward Hector.

  Jonathan lights up now as he sees where the question comes from. “Yes. There are two main fan theories on the origin of that. One is that it was named after a disproven planet believed to orbit between Mercury and the Sun. The other is that it’s named after”—a furtive glance Hector’s way—“the god. Either way, since the disproven planet is named after the god, so is the race.” He pauses. “That’s more than you needed to know, isn’t it?”