Dark Curse

by Kim Richardson

  I drew it all in, the good, the bad, and the crazy because I had a lot of crazy. Trying to ignore the rise in my blood pressure and my heart that wanted to pound its way through my ribs, I focused on my breathing and tried to relax. But I was way too wired.

  My hand shook as I raised the gun I salvaged from one of the dead GHOSTS and pressed it against my chest where I thought my heart was. The metal was cool on my skin through my t-shirt and I stifled a shiver. I took deep, quiet breaths, shifting my weight.

  I was shaking. The gun felt heavy in my hand. Not because I was afraid of what I was about to do—but because I knew it was going to hurt like a bitch.

  “God, I hope I don’t miss,” I laughed nervously.

  I knew if Tyrius were here he would have talked me out of this or simply knocked me out. It was crazy. It was nuts. This was the stupidest thing I’d ever done because it would be my last.

  But Tyrius wasn’t here. I was alone. Alone with my thoughts, which was a dangerous thing.

  Big, hot tears spilled down my cheeks to blend with my sweat and I brushed them away. I wasn’t having a little girl’s boo-hoo crying moment. Hell no. I was pissed. Furious. This was a freak-out moment. Hot and sweaty, I thought I might even explode.

  “Lucian...” I called, my voice ringing over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, “See you soon, Dad—”

  I took a deep breath, and then I pulled the trigger.

  I felt pressure against my ribs, heard the pop of the gun loud in my ears and then nothing.

  Blinking I looked down at my chest. My hand still hung in the air, but the gun had disappeared.

  “What were you thinking?” Lucian stood above me, his face set in fury. “Are you crazy?” He was wearing his signature navy pin-striped three-piece suit.

  “You!” I growled, wishing I still had the gun so I could pistol-whip him.

  “I’m not crazy,” said the archdemon, clearly affronted. “I’m not the one trying to kill herself.”

  My anger flared and I jumped to my feet. I didn’t want to have to look up to yell at him. “You son of a bitch!” I shouted, knowing I had to be mad to be shouting at one of the eldest creatures of all time. Screw it. “Why didn’t you come when I called you a week ago? You said we had a connection. I needed you!”

  Lucian kept his face blank. His posture, though, showed that he was furious. “You were never in any danger. The others were on their way. They saved you. Didn’t they? You’re overreacting. Calm down.”

  Calm down? Rage and fear pounded through me. “So you heard me calling and you just...what? Chose to ignore me? Even though I was scared out of my freaking mind!”

  The archdemon pulled out his small metal case and put a cigarette to his mouth. “Possibly,” he said as he lit it, looking like the lead actor in some Hollywood 1920s gangster movie.

  “You bastard,” I cried. I couldn’t help it. All my anger about everything was coming out, and Lucian was going to get it. “And you call yourself my father? You son of a bitch. I almost died, you prick. You jerk. You asshat. You dick—”

  My throat constricted and I let out a hiss instead of my next word. Oh crap. I wrapped a hand around my throat. He took my voice.

  I glared at him. You took my voice! I shouted in my mind. Give it back!

  “For such a pretty girl, you have a very dirty mouth,” said Lucian and he blew smoke from his lips and his nose. “I would advise you to be a little more humble in the face of your betters.” He cast a derisive glance at me. “Consider this a gag until you can learn better manners. Children these days, no respect.”

  Oh really? I thought. You think I have dirty mouth? I put my hands on my hips and voiced in my mind every curse word I could think of in thirty seconds flat, and then a little more.

  Lucian just shook his head. “Are you finished?” he asked calmly, which only ticked me off more.

  I nodded and felt a tingling in my throat like I’d just gargled with salt and water. “Not funny,” I said and cleared my throat, glad to have my voice back.

  The archdemon took a puff and whirled on me. His features grew colder. “What were you thinking trying to kill yourself? And with a gun, no less.”

  I squared my shoulders. “I was thinking that if you didn’t want to talk to me, I’d go find you in the Netherworld and make you talk to me.” Yeah, it sounded pretty stupid and childish when I said it out loud. I thought he’d chew my head off but he merely smiled.

  “Mmmmph. You believed upon your death, you would end up in the Netherworld?” questioned the archdemon.

  “Yeah,” I said and believed it. After everything I’d done, there was only one place I was going when I died. “Why are you smiling? This isn’t funny.”

  Lucian took a drag off his cigarette. “It just pleases me that you would rather be with me in the Netherworld, where you truly belong, than Horizon.”

  “Uh-huh.” I never said I would rather be there.

  “A daughter of mine should reside by my side with her kind,” said the archdemon, looking steadily at me. “But it’s not your time. Not yet.”

  I stifled a chill at the thought of me sitting on a throne made of human bones while daddy dearest whipped and tortured the next fool in line. The more I thought about it, the more I wished somehow there was a place for me in Horizon. But I wasn’t about to burst Lucian’s bubble.

  I looked him over. He carried himself in a posture that was nothing but relaxed nonviolence, until he struck out and then you died. He was a good-looking man with slender, stark cheekbones, and his demeanor was more like a businessman than that of street thug, his eyes always calculating. His dark hair was short, in that same slicked-back look I’d seen him wearing.

  Before I’d finished looking him over, I was sure this saving of my life thing was a calculated lie—plus the gift thing.

  “You tricked me,” I said, my insides shaking.

  His eyes snapped to me, smoke blowing from his nose. “You accepted the gift freely. We’ve been through this already. I couldn’t have transferred the gift if you wished not to accept it. That’s how it works, daughter.” There was cruelty lurking below the calmness of his features, scorn hiding within the reserved posture of his body.

  “Rowyn,” I corrected. “It kills angels. Your precious gift. You never said it would kill their souls.”

  “Ah.” Lucian raised his brows, ribbons of smoke spiraling from his lips. “You found out about that.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette in the sand.

  “Yeah, I found out about that,” I said. “Just after the angel killed himself because he saw what I had done to his soul, just by touching him.”

  Lucian flashed me an irritated look. “I gave you power. Didn’t you want power? To be stronger? Wild power beyond your wildest dreams? A power made only for you?” He gestured with his hands. “Wild magic that only you can wield? Power from the moon and sun, shadow and light both?”

  I flung out my hands. “You call this power? Killing the soul of an angel just by touching him? Feels like a cheat to me.”

  Lucian pulled out another cigarette and lit it, his motions containing a quick sharpness that told of his anger. “Was the angel trying to kill you?” Goose bumps tingled up my arms when I recognized the rage behind his dark eyes.

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, but—”

  “Then what are you complaining about,” he asked, smiling with shoots of smoke blowing from his nose. “You were just protecting yourself. You should be pleased. I am.”

  “I didn’t want to kill his soul,” I said, feeling my own anger returning. “I wanted him to leave me alone. That’s all.”

  Lucian took a long drag of his cigarette, watching me as he blew three smoke rings, one after the other. “Do you think this angel cared about your soul? No. He didn’t. He wanted to kill you, Rowyn. Why can’t you understand that? You reacted. That is all. And your gift saved your life.” He frowned, tugging the sleeves of his jacket down. “You should be grateful, but you’re not actin
g like it.”

  Grateful? This guy was really nuts. “You used me. You gave me this... this curse without telling me exactly what it was. You did this so you could use me somehow in one of your schemes. You never wanted to help me... it’s always been about you. What you wanted all along. Hasn’t it? I’m just the idiot who didn’t see it.”

  “I wouldn’t call you an idiot,” said Lucian, his cigarette hanging on his lips, and I noticed how he clearly avoided answering my questions. “But you’re obviously not seeing the bigger picture here.”

  I shivered, not knowing if I had just saved or damned myself. “What? What is it you want from me? Why give me the ability to kill angel souls? Couldn’t you do it yourself?” Unless he couldn’t? No, that didn’t make sense. He was an archdemon... he was older than Lucifer, surely the guy could kill a few angel souls. So why do this to me?

  Lucian smiled without showing his teeth, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t understand, child,” he said, hammering in the last word. “There hasn’t been the chance to have a day-walking demon in a very long time. Not without possessing a human body. But that always ends up being so messy. The human bodies are too weak to sustain us. But not anymore.” He took a puff from his cigarette. “You are very popular in the Netherworld. Famous,” he said, gray smoke curling around his mouth.

  Day-walking demon? I met his gaze, refusing to believe his lies. “I’m not a demon,” I said, planting my feet. “I have angel essence too. I’m not a full-fledged demon. I can’t be.” I couldn’t. Right? I felt myself pale, my blood pounding madly in my ears. Oh, crap. Was the gift going to turn me into a demon? Was this what the ghoul demon had meant by the change?

  Lucian’s attention bore into mine as he took another drag of his cigarette. “Rowyn,” he said, and the simple sound of it made my blood turn to ice. Something was there that hadn’t been before, and it scared the crap out of me. “You are the true half-breed. Not these vampires and werewolves and all the other lesser demon offspring that wander this world. But you.”

  I felt dizzy. This was too much information. “I hate you for doing this to me. You had no right.” Not that I believed Lucian had any moral standards. But I had to say it.

  A slow, deeply satisfied smile came over the archdemon. “Be reasonable, Rowyn. I know you can be. If you try very, very hard.” He grazed his hand over his hair, making sure the wind didn’t misplace any strands.

  “Bite me, jackass,” I spat, wanting nothing more than to reach out and mess his hair up. Bet he wouldn’t like that.

  Lucian laughed and it only infuriated me more. “Think of all we can achieve together. Think of the possibilities. You can have anything you want. The world will be in our hands. I can promise you that.”

  “Screw your power. Screw your gift. And screw your goddamn suits. It’s the twenty-first century. Get some new clothes.” Yes, that was a low blow. But the archdemon knew how to push my buttons.

  Face clouding, Lucian watched me for a moment. “You are angry. I can understand that. But soon you will see that not only did I do you a favor, but I have given you the most precious gift any daughter of mine could wish for.” His expression shifted to a devilish delight. “In time, you will see. You will... embrace it.”

  I won’t become a demon. Never.

  “I won’t be part of it,” I said defiantly, and a small noise of disappointment slipped from the archdemon. “It’s not going to happen,” I confirmed. “I won’t kill angel souls and I won’t become a demon.”

  My face screwed up at the memory of the joy I felt while and after I’d killed those GHOSTS. Bile rose in the back of my throat. It was sick. It wasn’t me. I didn’t want to be a monster. I’d promised myself that I’d stop it before I went dark. Even if that meant death.

  I also knew the longer I had this curse festering in me, the harder it would be to get rid of it. Because I might not want to get rid of it later.

  My stomach cramped, from lack of food or anger I didn’t know. “Take it back. I don’t want it anymore. Take your damn gift back, now.”

  Lucian flicked his cigarette, his head moving almost imperceptibly up and down and his jaw tightening. His eyes met mine. “I can’t do that.”

  Bastard. “Can’t or won’t?” I reached into that deep well of anger and began drawing it together into something as hot and violent and destructive as what I was feeling inside.

  “Both,” said Lucian matter-of-factly as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his metal cigarette box.

  “You’re a liar,” I raged. My hands were shaking, and I curled them into fists. “I know you can. I don’t want it anymore. I’ve changed my mind. I want a refund!”

  The subtle tension in him rose. I saw it in the slight tightening of his fingers as he pulled the cigarette from the case. “Rowyn, dear, I know this is fear talking. But don’t be scared. This is what you were meant to be. Great. Powerful. Fearless. You’re going to need this gift if you want to survive.”

  “Take it back!” I howled, taking a threatening step towards him.

  His manner turned cocky and bitter. “Foolishly clever without manners.” An eyebrow rising, he turned pensive. “It saved your life. Your actions show a significant lack of maturity, my daughter.”

  I bared my teeth in a snarl. “And stop calling me that!” I shouted, hoping I hadn’t gone too far and made the archdemon kill me. But I was pushing my luck.

  “Take it back, damn you. Or I’ll... I’ll...”

  “You’ll what?” Lucian was silent. Then he inclined his head. “You’ll what, exactly?”

  I took a breath. “I’ll—”

  I heard Lucian blow smoke from his cigarette along with the whoosh of air in my ears as the archdemon’s power took me, and the swirling warmth of demon energies washing the beaches and the blue waters away.

  Everything went dark in my mind. My boots left solid ground. I was floating, suspended as though in water. I tried to cry out, but my mouth wasn’t working. The words wouldn’t come. Fear hit hard and a ribbon of panic pulled through me. That’s it. I’d done it. I’d pissed off Lucian and now he’d killed me. I was on my way to the Netherworld. Damn. Damn. Damn. I wasn’t ready to die.

  I thought of Gareth and a spark ignited in my core. My chest ached. I’d never see him again. Not if I was dead. And he had felt, so, so good...

  With a final pull, I felt a sudden release and then a flash of bright light. My boots hit solid ground. Stumbling, I sucked in a huge gulp of air, shocked when my boots skittered across the black and white tiles that looked familiar.

  I looked up, hearing someone gasp. Gareth, Danto, Layla and my grandmother with Kora and Tyrius perched on their laps, all sat around her kitchen table, their mouths slightly open with their brows high up into their foreheads.

  I found my voice. “This isn’t the Netherworld?” I whispered, mainly to myself.

  “No, it’s my kitchen,” said my grandmother, tears rolling down her face. Her nose was red and puffy, like she’d been crying a while.

  “Rowyn!” shouted Tyrius, and the cat came bounding up to me. He halted, taking a moment with a clicking sound as he rolled his eyes over my battle-dirty clothes and tangled hair and said, “You look like crap.”

  12

  “Jeeves, that double-crossing, lame-ass jinni,” hissed Tyrius as he sat on the table facing me next to the empty pizza box, his ears flattening on his head. “How does he keep slipping out from his bottle in the Netherworld? They’re supposed to keep tabs on him. He’s one of the Netherworld’s most wanted.”

  I wrapped my hands around my hot coffee mug. I’d never heard of the Netherworld having a list of mid demons on a most wanted list. But knowing Jeeves a little, it didn’t surprise me.

  “Whatever he did, it had something to do with a deal he made with another demon,” I answered, remembering as much. “But he was on the island because he stole money from the angel-borns and got caught.”

  Tyrius snorted. “Amateur. He should have call
ed me. I’d have fixed him up.”

  I gave Tyrius a look. “He had on a new body, an angel-born body, which he swears he got from a legal contract—whatever that means. In exchange for a mortal soul,” I said, shaking my head. “Something like that.”

  Tyrius was snickering. “And you believe that rat? After everything he’s done?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, which was the truth. “It didn’t feel like he was lying.”

  The baal demon cocked his head and said, “Just like it didn’t feel like he was lying when he said he’d help your ass off the island?”

  He had a point. I leaned forward in my chair, next to my grandmother who couldn’t stop staring at me with tears in her eyes. Gareth had offered his chair as soon as I had appeared in my grandmother’s kitchen, but I’d taken the seat next to my grandma. I didn’t want him to get too close to me until I’d taken a very long shower, after I peeled the clothes off of my body. Nasty business.

  I flicked my eyes to the elf and my chest contracted. I hadn’t seen him since the morning I woke up in his bed a week ago wearing his t-shirt and smelling like him. Good times.

  Kora was sitting on his lap, her eyes closed looking completely content, making me wish I was her for just a moment. Gareth looked so composed and manly sitting there, his large, callused hands cupped around his mug like me. He’d taken off his fedora, his dark hair falling around his face and shading his eyes to make them all the more mesmerizing. And when he met my eyes and smiled, it was all I could do not to jump over the table and kiss the elf. Those were some hot lips. He caught me staring at them and his smile widened, showing off his pearly whites, which had my pulse hitting a new high.

  The memory of our naked bodies entangled flashed into my mind’s eye, the way he moved, soft at first and then rough, his soft kisses on my skin had heat rising from my middle all the way to my face. Yup, I was in serious trouble.

  My heart pounded and I pushed away my emotions. This wasn’t the time or the place. But I missed him. I was a nice feeling to actually miss someone. His smile, his solid presence—I missed just being with him. I didn’t need a man to feel good about myself, but there was something about the shared feelings between two people that was worth the heartache.