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Cursed Luck, Book 1

Page 34

by Kelley Armstrong


  “Nope, it all helps. Thank you.” I pull the headphones back on to think.

  So that line in Mercury’s card referred to Vulcan. To Hephaestus. To Hector. Is this my answer?

  One thing gives me pause. That damned phone number. If everything in the card had a meaning, then why the hell did Mercury include the phone number for . . .

  Friends and family of victims of domestic abuse.

  A helpline for those who want to help friends or family suffering at the hands of an abuser.

  “Hephaestus,” I say aloud. “Vulcan. Hector. Whatever you call him, that’s who you meant to curse. Except—since the necklace wasn’t for Aphrodite—it didn’t work.”

  I expect some kind of game show reaction—a buzzer or a bell. Instead, there is the softest breath of a sigh, one of relief, and then the curse opens in a way I’ve never experienced.

  Voices wash over me. Hector demanding the necklace. He wants a curse hidden beneath blessings. Give Vanessa the gift of eternal youth and beauty, more than she already has, but conceal a curse within, one that will strike any man who dares love her. Yet Mercy tweaks the curse. It will strike those who pretend to love the necklace’s recipient. False lovers. Hector himself.

  Yet the necklace is for Harmonia. Cursing Marius would be the petty act of a jealous man, and Hector refuses to be the jealous husband. Cursing Harmonia’s husband—and destroying Harmonia’s happiness—is a worse blow for both Vanessa and Marius.

  Except Mercy’s curse was intended for a false lover. So how did that affect Cadmus? How did it kill Harmonia?

  The story of Cadmus and Harmonia doesn’t fit. Miscalculate, and I can’t unweave the curse.

  I back out from the weaving, remove the headphones and turn to Marius. “Did Cadmus love Harmonia?”

  When Marius blinks at the question, I add, “That’s the myth. That they were deeply in love and lived long and happily together, dying in old age and then becoming snakes.”

  “Yes,” he says. “All true except the snakes. It was absolutely a love match.”

  “What’s wrong, K?” Jonathan asks.

  “I need to understand the curse to unweave it. I think I do, but the Harmonia part isn’t fitting. According to what Mercy is telling me, she actually cursed Hector.”

  “What Mercury is telling you?” Hector says. “That’s a necklace, girl, not a cellular telephone.”

  I ignore him and keep my attention on Marius. “Hector didn’t ask Mercy to curse Vanessa. He asked her to curse whoever loved the wearer of the necklace. Mercy figured he meant you. Except the necklace went to Harmonia.”

  “So Hector cursed Cadmus?”

  “That was the intention. Instead, Mercy cursed false lovers of those who wear the necklace. Which, if the necklace went to Vanessa, would have been Hector.”

  Hector snaps. “What kind of nonsense is this, girl?”

  Ani clears her throat. “Harmonia’s story has never fit, has it? In the myths, Harmonia chose to join him in death.” She glances at Jonathan, who nods. Then she says to Marius, “Was Cadmus immortal?”

  “Semi-immortal, which means a very long life, but yes, he eventually died.”

  “Is it possible . . . ?” Ani asks uncomfortably. “Is it possible she chose to die with him? That the necklace had nothing to do with it?”

  Marius rubs his face, and when he speaks, his words are steeped in exhaustion. “Yes. I’ve always wondered that. But Vanessa . . .”

  “It’s easier to blame a curse,” Ani says softly.

  “Blame me, you mean,” Hector huffs. “Vanessa blamed me for Harmonia’s death, when I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” I shoot back. “You tried to ruin her life. Whether you succeeded or not is irrelevant.”

  I look at the others. “Remove Harmonia, and it works for the others who owned the necklace. False lovers were punished with misfortune.”

  Jonathan and Connolly—who’ve researched the necklace the most—both agree.

  “All right then,” I say. “I’m ready to uncurse the necklace.”

  “And I’m ready to buy it,” Hector says.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Everyone turns to Hector. He’s looking squarely at Havoc.

  “I want you on my team,” he says. “Not just head of my security division, but a seat on the board. I will recognize you, officially, as my niece.”

  Her blink of shock says Uncle Hector has never given her so much as a birthday card.

  “That’s what you are, Havoc,” he says, his voice a gentle rumble. “I never liked the way your father treated you. Or your aunts. You deserved better. This old feud between myself and my brother, though, meant I was never allowed a place in your life.”

  “You lying son-of—” Marius begins.

  Hector raises his voice. “Recognition as my niece. Head of my security division with a seat on the board at Voden Construction. We’ll work out compensation later, but the job will come with a half-million-dollar signing bonus.”

  “Huh,” Ani says. She frowns at Havoc. “Are you sure Hope said it wasn’t a lover’s lament. Because someone sure sounds like a man scorned.”

  Hector wheels on her, and Marius slides between them with a murmured, “Leave the mortals out of it, Hector.”

  “Well,” Havoc says, “that’s quite the offer, Uncle. How about you, Father? What’s your counteroffer?”

  I tense, mind spinning for a way to intercede.

  “None,” Marius says. “Hector’s making you an excellent offer. I’d take it.”

  She turns to stare at him. “You’re giving up the necklace? He won’t uncurse it. You know that, right?”

  Marius shrugs. “We’ll survive. Take his offer. The only thing I ask for is the Bennett girl and the Connolly boy.”

  “Fine, I’ll have them released—”

  “Brought here,” he says. “Before you complete your transaction with Hector.”

  Hector waves dismissively. “Bring the mortals. Get this over with.”

  Silence. Absolute silence.

  “You don’t have Hope, do you, Eris?” Marius says. “Not anymore.”

  “What?” Ani pivots between Marius and Havoc.

  “I know my daughter very well,” Marius says. “Normally, she’d have Hope and Rian here, to taunt us with. Reminding us what’s at stake. So why aren’t they available even by remote video?”

  “Because I don’t trust—” Havoc begins.

  “You’ve secured this room because you expected to have Hope and Rian here. They’ve escaped, and you’ve blustered to cover that.”

  Havoc lifts her chin. “I changed my plans. That’s all.”

  “Then get them on the phone.”

  Marius doesn’t give her time to even answer. He turns to one of the guards.

  “I’ve seen you before,” he says.

  The man straightens. “Yes, sir.”

  “And you know who I am?”

  More straightening. “Yes, sir.”

  “Where are the captives?”

  “They’ve escaped, sir,” he says, without a moment’s hesitation, and if it were possible to feel sympathy for Havoc, I’d feel it here. Marius doesn’t need to offer anything—no reward, no threat. The god of war asks a question, and Havoc’s man almost trips over himself betraying her to answer.

  Or is there more at work here? Luck? Some other kind of magic? The dead employee—Carson—had obviously betrayed Marius. Was that because Havoc blackmailed him? Or because, after centuries together, the allure of working for a “god” had worn off and he’d accepted a payout? Whatever the reason, this man obviously feels very differently.

  “They escaped when we were moving them into the car,” the man says. “The girl used some kind of charm on her guards, and they got away.”

  “Some kind of charm?” Ani says. “That’d be the curse you idiots put on her. You made her even more beautiful than she already was . . . and then put a couple of straight guys in charge of h
er. My sister isn’t stupid.”

  Marius laughs under his breath. “No, she is not. The hostages are gone, and presumably, that’s why Havoc confiscated our cell phones—so Hope and Rian couldn’t contact their siblings once they found a phone. All right, then. Havoc? You’ve lied to us. Broken an oath. That means I have the right to insist this uncursing proceed. If the necklace cannot be uncursed, you may sell it to Hector.”

  Havoc glances at Hector, who doesn’t react. “And if it can?”

  “Then you may sell it to me for a half-million dollars or sell it on the open market, whichever you prefer. But having misrepresented a deal to a fellow immortal, you owe me an attempted uncursing.” He looks at me. “You’ll still do it? Even with Hope and Rian free?”

  I nod. “Definitely. My sister is still cursed. And I know this is what—” I stop myself before I say that this is what Vanessa wants. No need to remind Hector of that.

  Marius meets my gaze, and it’s as if he’s read my thoughts and seconded them. Get this done. Now. Before anything else goes wrong.

  Connolly doesn’t ask whether he can help, but his glance my way voices the question.

  “I’m going to get a start,” I say to Connolly. “When I reach the heart of it, I’ll take that luck boost if you can give it.”

  “I can absolutely give it,” he says.

  “As can I,” Marius adds.

  I nod my thanks. This time, when I step up to the necklace, I don’t need false confidence. I’ve solved the puzzle. Mercy couldn’t tell me exactly what she’d done, but now that I’ve figured it out, the music surges, as if I’d been in a symphony hall wearing the best earplugs on the market. In solving the puzzle, I’ve unstopped my ears, and the music is glorious as the melodies weave together.

  The songs of beauty and eternal youth rise up. We’ve debated whether they were blessing or curse, but Mercy’s intention sings through. With the necklace intended for Vanessa, those “curses” were digs at Hector. His wife was already blessed. If she shone a little brighter, that would only hurt him more.

  If I remember the real victims of this curse—the women, like Josephine Hill-Cabot who suffered the curse of eternal youth and the pain of false lovers—that only bolsters my determination to kill this snake that Hector unleashed. I blame him. Not Vanessa. Not Marius. Not Mercy, who couldn’t avoid her debt and tried to help her brother and his lover. I blame Hector.

  The key to the puzzle is Hector. Mercy wanted to punish him for his mistreatment of Vanessa, and now I will. I’ll kill this thing he created. Stop at least one torture he can inflict on her.

  I reach the heart of the jinx and begin to unweave the strands. Beauty, youth, misfortune . . . Beauty is first, and the easiest to untangle. Tease it out and cast it away. Next, youth. That one’s trickier, but I get it undone and there, at the bottom, lies the true curse. Misfortune to befall a false lover. It lies there, still and quiet, but it is a resting snake with deadly fangs, and I know better than to dive in.

  This is where I back out and ask for help.

  “Can you confirm, Ani?” I say. “Be sure I’ve removed the first two curses.”

  She nods, and when she approaches the necklace, she hesitates and then shakes that off, shoring up her resolve. She’s been “bitten” by this curse already and instinctively doesn’t want to get near it, but she forces herself to relax and soon sinks into the trance state of unweaving. When she comes out of it, she’s smiling, and in the glow of that, I’m a child again, quivering in the joy of having impressed my sister.

  “You did it, K,” she says, grinning at me. “It’s cracked open like a walnut shell. Not even a twinge of trouble. Well, except for that final curse, which is a nasty one.”

  “But the others are gone?”

  “Completely gone. The remaining jinx is amazing work. A beautiful and terrible thing.”

  “Agreed. I hated to undo the tea caddy, but I’ll happily zap this one as much as I admire the craft.” I glance at Connolly and Marius. “This is where I’ll need all the luck I can get.”

  “Maybe I should give it a shot,” Ani says. “You’ve done enough. I might not specialize in the jinx, but I can unweave them.”

  “And steal my thunder?” I say.

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I know,” I say, moving over to give her a one-armed hug. “It’s dangerous, and you’re thinking of me.” I pause. “And of Hope in case I mess it up.”

  “First part, yes. Second part, no.” She meets my gaze. “I wasn’t thinking that at all, Kennedy. You can do this. I’d just rather you didn’t take the risk.”

  “I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong, I’ll back out. This is for Hope. Either I’ll get it right, or I won’t do it at all.”

  I return to my place. I don’t glance at Connolly or Marius. I trust they’ll know when and how to help, and I won’t micromanage them. My entire focus needs to be on this curse.

  Hope is safe. She’s escaped with Rian, and by now, they’ll be someplace secure. I just need to finish setting her free.

  A little voice whispers that might not be enough. Sometimes uncursing an object doesn’t uncurse the people who’ve caught it any more than finding a vaccine will cure those already suffering from the disease. Most times, though, an unweaving is both vaccine and cure. That’s what I need to focus on. Don’t fret about the thing I cannot control—concentrate on the one I can.

  I slide into my trance state, and the music swells around me.

  Before, the melody had been a siren’s call. You want to be beautiful, don’t you? You want to be young forever. Take me. Put me around your neck. Win my blessing. But those sweet whispers are gone now, and somehow, the necklace is all the more seductive for it.

  Wear me, and punish false lovers. Woe betide anyone who pretends to cherish you.

  There’s an odd appeal to that, one I didn’t see until now. Slide this necklace around my neck, and I am guaranteed true love.

  Which is a lie. An insidious and ugly lie. The necklace won’t tell me a true lover from a false one. It’ll only punish the false, and if I’ve fallen for that person—married him—I would suffer, too, as did so many who wore this necklace.

  This is where Mercy misjudged in her eagerness to punish Hector. Hurt him, and she’d have hurt the woman trapped in a marriage with him. Mercy’s heart had been in the right place, but she’d been reckless, overeager to help Vanessa.

  Yes.

  The word wafts up on a whisper of grief and melancholy that takes me by surprise. Mercy isn’t here. Whatever magic allowed her to communicate with me snapped when I solved the puzzle. But this is still her, an echo of regret.

  Vanessa joked that I reminded her of Mercy. Maybe so, but here is where I feel the most kinship with her. That burning desire to help . . . only to dive in too fast. I don’t feel that now, though. Instead, I’m surrounded by steadying forces—Ani, Jonathan, Connolly, Marius. Tethers holding me down as I unweave this curse.

  I start slowly, tentatively. When something shimmers around me, a frisson of undefinable awareness, it gives me pause until I recognize it as luck. Just the barest tingle of it, holding back until I need more.

  I let that luck wash over me, and I mentally tap the herbs of protection, calling on them. Then I touch a loose end on the curse and follow it, unweaving—

  The necklace bursts into flame.

  A flash fire leaps from it, scorching my fingers and flaring up into my face as I stagger back.

  My eyes fly open to see the necklace itself isn’t on fire. It’s the velvet under it, igniting impossibly fast.

  I stagger back as the flames shoot up. Ani grabs me. There’s a low roar and then an explosion as the table combusts in a whoosh of flame and smoke.

  Ani yelps, and I wheel to see her blouse aflame. I lunge toward her, but Jonathan’s already there, tackling her to the floor and rolling out the fire.

  Another scream, this one from Havoc. An oath from Marius. I can’t see them through the smoke. It billo
ws around us. Smoke and fire. That’s all my shocked brain can process. Everything seems to be on fire. The drapes. The carpet. Even the walls, fire rolling up them in waves.

  “Out,” Marius shouts. “Everyone out.”

  My mind still can’t quite comprehend what I’m seeing. It’s too fast. Too sudden. Too complete. As if the room had been kindling doused in kerosene, the fire like lava spewed from a . . .

  From a volcano.

  In that chaos, I manage to see Hector. He’s standing in the one corner of the room that isn’t burning. And he’s smiling. A malicious, ugly little smile.

  Something hits me. It’s Connolly, grabbing me with both hands.

  “Kennedy!” Ani shouts.

  “I have her!” Connolly yells back.

  Everything is fire and smoke and chaos. People as dark shapes running for the exit. The room in flames. Connolly hauling me—

  “The necklace,” I shout, that one thought piercing my shock. I spin out of his grasp. I hear him curse, but I’m already diving for the smoldering pile of ash that had been the table. Within it, the necklace burns bright as the sun. I reach for it, fingers clasping the necklace.

  Pain sears through me as the red-hot metal burns my hand even through my glove. I don’t let go, though. I can’t. If we leave, Hector will take the necklace, and we’ll never see it again. I can’t see him anymore, but I know he’s here, gloating over having foiled my unweaving.

  He will not have foiled it. I won’t let him.

  Connolly whips what is definitely a handkerchief from his pocket and tries to take the necklace, but I pull it away before he touches it. Then I bundle it into the handkerchief and pass it back.

  “I’ll take care of it,” he says. “I’ll give it back.”

  I meet his gaze, our eyes watering with the smoke. “I know.”

  I grab his hand with my uninjured one, and we run for the doorway. Outside, Ani yells, “Kennedy? Has anyone seen Kennedy?”

 

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