Dark Curse

by Kim Richardson

  I cursed. “This was a mistake,” I said, staring at the ruined couch that I would have to replace. I was an idiot. “We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s too dangerous.” I hate you, Lucian.

  “You need to do this,” urged the elf, his eyes wide in alarm. “You just need better control is all.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. “You call this control? This wasn’t control. This was crazy. I burned down your place!”

  “You didn’t burn down my place,” said the elf. A strange smile quirked his lips as he brushed some burnt ashes from his coat. “Just the couch. I wanted to replace it anyway.”

  I rubbed my temples feeling a colossal migraine on its way. “I can’t do this. I won’t be responsible for hurting you. I won’t.” I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to sort through things. The last thing I needed was to obliterate my new boyfriend. Nice going, Rowyn.

  But, was he my boyfriend? We’d never actually had “the talk.” Granted, that really didn’t matter right now. I didn’t want to hurt someone I cared about.

  “You stopped it. Didn’t you?”

  I opened my eyes and looked at the elf. “Barely.”

  “The more you practice,” said Gareth, his voice soft and encouraging, “the easier it’ll be. The sooner you can turn it on and off.”

  I whirled on him, my voice rising. “I don’t want to turn it on or off. I want it out. This isn’t me. I don’t want to have to live with...” I gestured with my hands, “this thing inside me.”

  “We already tried that approach.” Gareth was grim and somehow ready, shadows dancing over his features with his eyes huge and dark. “It didn’t work. This is the only other option.”

  Like hell it was. Though Evanora had tried to remove Lucian’s gift and failed, I would get it out. I would. I would find a way to remove it if it was the last thing I did...

  “Fine. We’ll do it your way then.” My sigh was heavy, and I waited. I needed his help, and I knew he wouldn’t let me leave without making some sort of progress, no matter how minute.

  I searched his face. “You’re right. It’s a bomb. I have a damn bomb living inside me, and I don’t know when it’s going to blow.”

  Gareth shrugged. “I think you did well, considering.”

  I shook my head, brow furrowed. “Well? Are you crazy? I could have killed you.” I let out a frustrated breath and paced around his apartment where I hadn’t ruined it.

  Gareth grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him. “But you didn’t,” he urged, his dark eyes blazing as he pulled me closer. His grip on me tightened. “You didn’t kill me. Don’t you see? You stopped it before it consumed you.”

  My arms dropped to my sides, useless. “Why are you smiling?” I asked dryly. If he wasn’t so uber sexy right now, with his hair disheveled and smelling so devilishly good, I would have slapped the smile off his face.

  Gareth drew his hands from my shoulders and gripped my hands. “Because I was right,” said the elf, his voice deep and measured, which made me oh-so-warm and fuzzy inside.

  “About what?” I stared at the elf’s face, his touch warm and rough, and I was liking it. A flush of memory took me, of him carrying me into his bedroom, my fingers playing with the smooth muscles of his back, his lips both soft and aggressive as he tasted the salt on me, the feel of his hands at the small of my back pressing me into him...

  “You’re stronger than you think,” he said, into the quiet. “And the fact that you stopped this power, this archdemon power with your will... means you can master it.”

  The elf was on to something. “Okay...”

  His eyes flicked up to mine. “You’re not this power. You’re using it. Don’t forget that. It’s a tool, like a weapon. It’s not you.”

  My throat closed and I choked. “I know that. But when it’s with me—when I’ve let it rise inside me—it’s really hard to separate the two.”

  Smiling calmly, Gareth said, “I know it’s hard. But you can do this.” He took my fingers within his to give his words more strength.

  I watched him, feeling my heart pound. “It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

  Gareth’s expression became concerned as he saw my distress. “It takes time,” he said simply. “But it’ll work. It takes hard work and time to master any kind of power. You’ve only just begun. Give yourself a chance.”

  I looked at Gareth, my eyes tracing the length of his jaw and chin. “You’re crazy to want to help me. You know that? Because I’m crazy.” The ribbons around my chest tightened and I breathed him in again. He was probably the only person who might understand what I was going through, and probably the only one who could help me.

  “I like crazy.” Gareth smiled wickedly at me, and my tension eased. Those pointy ears really turned me on.

  I inched closer. “I could hurt you.” I could kill you.

  “You could have,” said the elf as he rubbed my arms slowly up and down. “But you didn’t.” His voice was deep, low, and it sent a spike of desire to my core. He moved one of his hands to the small of my back, pressing me into him.

  “Just try to relax,” breathed the elf, and I ran my eyes appreciatively over him—his large, square shoulders all hard with muscle and possibility.

  “I don’t know how to relax,” I teased, staring at those damn fine lips. “Will you help me?”

  “I know a few things that can help you with that,” he whispered to start a delicious tingle in me.

  “You do, do you?” I said, my pulse pounding as I leaned into him.

  He inched forward, tracing a path with his lips on my neck and then on my collarbone. “I’m very skilled in that art as well,” he said, and I shivered, feeling the stirrings of desire.

  A small moan escaped me. “You’re full of surprises, wizard elf.”

  “You have no idea,” he added sending tiny kisses over and across my neck.

  Pulse pounding, my hands rose to twine my fingers behind his head, through his hair. My breath quickened as his hands drifted down to trace my curves slowly and came up again.

  His dark eyes were lost in shadow, and then he pinned my hands behind my back.

  I gave a gasp, my heart thrashing against my ribcage. Smiling seductively, I arched a brow and said, “Show me.”

  19

  I was in a foul mood the following afternoon as I drove home to my gran’s. The windows were down in an attempt to cool the heat from my face, but all it did was throw my hair in my eyes and mouth. The thought of lunch with my gran, Tyrius, and Kora with a pile of French toast, dripping with blueberries and strawberries and real maple syrup wasn’t enough to lift my gloom. I was in a perpetual downwards spiral towards the crapper.

  The only thing that seemed to do the trick was just thinking of Gareth’s warm, rough hands over my body, his soft lips on mine, the way his stubble brushed my cheeks when he kissed me. It was the only thing that could shift my mood and one of the reasons I didn’t want to get out of his bed this morning.

  But I couldn’t go around for the rest of my life daydreaming of Gareth’s glorious naked body, his washboard abs, and his tight behind. That would get me into some serious trouble.

  My master plan of removing Lucian’s gift had failed miserably. I had failed miserably. Damn that archdemon. And damn me for being stupid enough to have accepted it.

  And to top it all off, I had publicly shared my new gift with the entire paranormal community. Way to go, Rowyn. My secret was out. I was no longer at the so-called Silent Gallows prison. I was a paranormal fugitive. Great. It was only a matter of time before the Gray Council GHOSTS came to fetch me—again. Those gray-uniformed bastards were like a virus I couldn’t seem to shake.

  My grip on the steering wheel tightened. If I was caught, where would they put me? Did they have more secret islands crawling with demons? Or would they just kill me instead and save themselves the trouble? I was betting on the latter.

  I shook my head, gritting my teeth until my jaw hurt. My short fuse was getting
shorter every day. My temper would be the end of me. Gareth was trying to help me control it, and by controlling my temper, I could control the darkness in me. Bless his soul. He was too good to me. But I wasn’t sure it was working.

  My bad mood was like a festering wound. It was getting worse. And I feared one day I wouldn’t be able to shake it off. One day it was going to consume me. Completely. And then...

  Taking a deep breath, I slowed at the stop sign, my heart pounding a little too loudly and a little too fast. I looked out the window. The sky was a stark blue, cloudless, the sun a glowing disk high in the sky. The warm breeze brought in the smells of lilacs and freshly cut grass, hinting of summer. It was a perfect day. And a few weeks ago, I would have smiled, letting the chirps of the birds and the fragrant smell of flowers lift my spirits.

  But all I felt was a pressing gloom, a darkness.

  I pressed on the accelerator and drove off. It shouldn’t be Gareth’s responsibility to help control my temper and the darkness in me. I should be able to do it. I had to do it. This was my mess, all of it. I shouldn’t be letting others fix my problems. I was a big girl. I had to take care of it myself.

  The thought of the elf had my stomach knotting into a ball. Gareth had come out of nowhere. Pitched into the chaos of my life like a cloud of his elf dust, dangerous and soothing.

  I didn’t know why he’d picked me. Hell, the elf was sexy, independent, strong, and surprisingly sensitive to the pain of others. He was every women’s dream of the stereotypical strong silent type. He could have any female he wanted, but he’d picked me.

  The feelings I had for him were deep, and getting deeper, and that scared the crap out of me. He’d managed to break down my protective walls, and I’d never even noticed. It left me vulnerable and able to love. I’d opened up and given myself completely over to him.

  And it felt amazing.

  I had absolutely no regrets. The elf was the best thing that had happened to me in years. Perhaps even my entire life. And I wasn’t going to risk something coming between us. No. I had to take care of this gift myself before I did something stupid like hurt Gareth, or even kill him.

  Resolute, I shoved the sullen feeling away and focused on my giant predicament, my dark curse. A shiver of reckless determination sifted through me. Evanora had failed. But I wasn’t giving up just yet. Maybe there was something we missed. Perhaps I’d been looking at it all wrong...

  Excitement pounded through me as I made the connection. Maybe I couldn’t remove the curse with blood magic because it hadn’t been infused with magic at all. The curse had been gifted to me by demonic power, archdemon power. Yes, dark magic descended from demonic power, but Lucian had been an archangel first. What if this gift had been transmitted to me through his celestial power? If that were true, I actually needed a hell of a lot of celestial power to remove it.

  So, where the hell was I going to get some?

  Angels.

  The answer hit me like a slap in the face. No, make that a kick in the face with a size twelve steel-toed boot.

  A spike of hope flitted through me. To remove the curse, I needed help from the angels.

  It sounded so simple. Well, not exactly. It could have been a somewhat easy fix if it weren’t for the fact that the Legion of angels still had a bounty on my head. Crap. Why were things always so complicated?

  “Can’t I get a freaking break once in a while?” I shouted in my car, my irritation rising.

  I clenched my jaw, my mind swirling with new possibilities. This was the answer. This was it. I could feel it. It was the breakthrough I’d been hoping for, and I couldn’t wait to share it with Tyrius.

  Granted, it sounded a little crazy too. But I specialized in crazy. Somehow, I needed to speak to an angel. How does one do that? By praying? I wasn’t the praying type, and I’d never prayed in my entire life. So far, the only times angels showed up in my life was to kill me.

  But that was going to change.

  I drove up my grandmother’s driveway and killed the engine. I clambered out, hitched up my shoulder bag and closed my car door with my hip. Hell, I even felt a smile sneaking up on my face.

  Feeling marginally better, I strolled up the small stone walkway lined with rimmed boxwood hedges and red, yellow and pink tulips mixed with clusters of yellow daffodils. I made my way up the path and bounded onto the front porch of the tiny gray cottage with white trim.

  Not bothering to wipe my boots on the WELCOME MORTALS doormat, I pushed the door open and walked in. “Hi, Grandma, it’s me,” I shouted. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was crazy. It was bumper to bumper for nearly an hour. I came as fast as I could.” Total lie. I didn’t want to explain to my cute little grandmother that an elf had kept me imprisoned in his bed this morning a little longer than necessary.

  “I hope Tyrius didn’t eat all the French toast,” I yelled, smiling as I kicked off my boots near the front door. My delight rose at the prospect of getting rid of a dark curse and feeling normal again. For the first time in a long time, I felt awesome. Things were going to change. I could feel it.

  I kicked the door shut with my foot. The scent of coffee filled the air as I made my way down the hallway towards the back of the house to the kitchen.

  “Tyrius, you won’t believe what I’ve figured out,” I called, my mouth watering at the smell of coffee. “I’m telling you. I can’t believe we missed it. But it doesn’t matter. I know how to—”

  I stood in the kitchen, my gaze darting around the small space. The coffee maker was on, the counters were stacked with organic flour bags, eggs, mixing bowls and cups of blueberries and strawberries. Even the frying pans were out on the stove top. But no one was here.

  “Hey, guys? Where are you?” I turned on the spot. “I have something important to tell you,” I shouted thinking they might be upstairs. “Hello?” I slipped my bag from my shoulder and dropped it on one of the kitchen chairs.

  I stuck my head out of the kitchen listening, but only the quiet answered back. Where was everyone? My gaze traveled through the windows to the backyard and my heart leapt. Of course.

  Laughing, I moved towards the back and opened the door to the backyard. “You guys out here? Grandma? Tyrius? Kora?” I called as I stepped onto the small back porch. My grandmother was a seasoned gardener. She’d planted over two hundred tulips last year in the backyard, and I had a feeling she was showing them off to the cats.

  A big fat gray squirrel looked up at me from the bird feeder. Apart from him and two blue jays perched on the tree, waiting for the squirrel to leave their feeder, there was no one out here.

  Fear hit me, unexpected and shocking as I remembered Lisbeth’s threat on my grandmother’s life. I rushed back into the kitchen and froze. Tension spiraling, my eyes darted around the kitchen for anything out of place.

  My mouth went dry as my eyes found a note stuck to the fridge.

  My gut twisted in terror, and that hollow ache I had thought was from despair worsened. My pulse rose as I forced my legs to move and crossed the kitchen to the fridge. I lifted the note with a trembling hand, already knowing what it said—my worst fears.

  The note, written in a familiar elegant penmanship read:

  Dear fugitive, if you care to see your grandmother again or your two mutts, come to my lab, 1295 Industrial, Parks Hollow, at seven o’clock tonight. Come alone. If you do not follow this simple instruction, your grandmother and your friends will die.

  Fear plinked through me, stealing my breath as the memory of losing my parents to the house fire hit a deep chord and resonated. Tears welled in my eyes, and my throat throbbed. I couldn’t lose my grandmother. I couldn’t lose Tyrius or Kora. I couldn’t lose my family.

  “Damn you, Lisbeth,” I whispered, a sudden rage making me shake. “Damn you.”

  I should have sent my gran back to that spa the minute I saw her when I came back from the island. Knowing my gran, she would have probably resisted, being just as stubborn as I was. But I could have tried h
arder. I should have.

  My eyes flicked around the kitchen. Clean, everything in its rightful place. There was no sign of a struggle. What the hell had happened here? How did Lisbeth and her cronies get past two baal demons?

  Ethan. The bastard had taken away my family.

  I was a fool. A damned fool. So busy thinking about me, I had failed to keep my loved ones safe.

  My fear shifted to anger. The rage burned in me, white-hot, pulsing in time with my heart. I crumbled the note in my hand and let it fall to the floor, hot tears spilling down my face to pool around my neck.

  “Lisbeth,” I cursed, my breath rasping. “I’m going to rip you apart.”

  I thirsted for her death, eager to tear her flesh and take joy in feeling her warm blood against my fingers.

  My will shifted. Darkness rose inside me, cold and hot and deadly, and I let it.

  20

  Lisbeth’s lab was located in Parks Hollow, the same town where Pam had her clinic, and where Jax and his parents had their mansion. I’d barely given Jax any thought since the last time I’d seen him, and after Ethan had tricked me into coming to Jax’s aid. I wished him well. That was about it.

  The address Lisbeth had given me wasn’t at all at the top of the hill where all the sprawling mansions were—ten-thousand-square-foot homes on the steeply sloped lots, looking down on all us poor folk. This address was on the wrong side of the tracks. Literally.

  My Subaru jolted over the railroad tracks, officially taking me to the wrong side, as I bounced in my seat while driving south on the cracked asphalt.

  By the looks of things—small houses with their siding weatherworn and rotting on smaller lots, plenty of old buildings, shops and restaurants, more cracked asphalt and sidewalks—I guessed this was the old part of town where everything originated and then spread outwards.

  I drove in silence for several minutes, trying to keep the panic out of my brain but failing miserably. I gripped the steering wheel to keep my hands from shaking, but it wasn’t working. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe because I kept holding my breath.