Cursed and Crazed

by Sophia Stafford

  Well, that could have gone better, Jaycen thought. She let herself into the room, locking it behind her. Her eyes burned with tiredness as she pulled out her phone and sent Gemma a quick message, trying to explain everything as well as she could in a few short sentences.

  She sent it as she fell on the bed, scrolling through the contacts in her phone and stopping at her mother’s name. Letting her thumb run over the letters on the screen. If only she could call her, she wouldn’t even have to explain anything, Jaycen would have just liked to hear her voice. It would have calmed her instantly. But she couldn’t. That was a notion she needed to get used to. Putting her phone on the bedside table she curled into a tight ball, finally letting herself drift off.

  “Everything is set. I promise you’ll be out of here within the week.”

  At first, Jaycen thought the male’s voice was in her room. Her eyes shot open, and she sat up, only to find darkness surrounding her. A small faded light hovered in the distance.

  “I’m dreaming,” she told herself solemnly, it was a feeling she now knew well as her dreams had become more and more vivid over the past few months.

  “Good. I’m becoming very bored of the same four walls of my cell, being moved to The Cure is a nice change.”

  Jaycen sat up straighter at the voice. She’d dreamed of many things recently, but Darius, her real father, hadn’t been in any of them. But here he was. Maybe it was the change in scenery? Whatever it was Jaycen stayed still, listening as Darius spoke, they were too far away for her to see anything, and she still didn’t recognise the second voice.

  “I’ve seen your cell; it wasn’t so bad,” the unknown voice said with humour in this voice.

  Now Darius laughed. “No, no you’re right. I suppose I still have some friends. Friends that look after me.”

  “Yes, and friends that help us both. They’ve been helpful recently in fact.”

  “Really?” Darius asked with interest. “Tell me more.”

  “She’s here. In this building. Benedict just brought her in.”

  “Me?” Jaycen’s face scrunched up as she sat up straighter, this was some odd as hell dream.

  “Did you hear that?” the unknown voice talking to Darius asked.

  “Hear what?” Darius asked as the unknown man shushed him.

  Her? Did they hear her? Jaycen pressed her lips together as she pinched her arm, trying to wake herself up. It was a trick she had learned from her other dreams, every time it got too much, she’d close her eyes and pinch herself. And just like that, the dream would be over. Apart from now. Because Jaycen’s arm was bright red and the dream was still very much happening.

  “We’re not alone. I need to leave.”

  “Right. Inform me if you get any more news or if the plan changes. I need to know everything. I need to get out of here,” Darius hushed almost desperately.

  “Stop talking,” the unknown voice hissed again. “Someone is listening. I’ll be back when I can.”

  Jaycen could even hear the door open and close and at the same time the blackness surrounding her melted away until she was back in her bed at The Cure. She rubbed her very red arm, as she tried to process what the hell had just happened.

  “It must have been a dream.” Even as she said the words an uneasy feeling lay in the pit of her stomach. Reaching for her phone she lit up her screen, rubbing her eyes when she realised, she’d only been asleep for an hour. Dropping the phone on the mattress next to her she closed her eyes, trying to get some sleep, some normal dreamless sleep before Benedict came to get her in a few hours. It was useless: her mind was now racing, and her arm still hurt from the pinches. A reminder of just how real the dream felt.

  She thought about Darrius then, her real father. She didn’t know him, not even in the slightest. In fact, once she had counted all the conversations they’d had, and could do it with her hands. The man might have sired her, yes, but he wasn’t her father. That had been a realisation that she had come to almost immediately after meeting him. Even putting the fact that the guy had tried to kill her and a bunch of other students aside, that guy was just an awful human being. He had never cared about her mother, or her. Well, not until he had learned about her powers, that was. Then he had taken a keen interest. She rubbed her hands together absentmindedly, thinking about the powerful magic that lay just beneath her skin. Was she ever going to be able to control it? She had watched other witches and wizards work while she’d been at the school, and they all seemed so at ease with their powers. Like it was simply another arm or leg. To Jaycen it always felt separate, it always felt foreign. Maybe it was because she knew where it had come from, she knew, keep down that it wasn’t her magic. Maybe she’d never be able to control it. This wasn’t the first time she’d thought this. No, this idea had been plaguing her for weeks as she watched all her classmates around her master the spells and control their magic, while hers became more and more wild and uncontrollable. Magic, she thought, was like an animal, obeying its master. Her animal knew who it belonged to, and it wasn’t Jaycen, so why should it obey her?

  Eventually, Jaycen realised sleep would not be coming any time soon. She threw off her covers and got out the bed, pulling on her clothes and heading out of the door. When this happened back at the school, Jaycen would get up and study, but without her school books that would be extremely difficult. So, she headed down the corridors, taking random lefts and rights, hoping she’d come across something that could point her in the direction of the library.

  “This place needs signs,” she muttered, coming across another dead end and turning around.

  This kept happening until eventually, Jaycen came across the main area of The Cure. It was open and airy, a newer part of the building that was mostly glass, giving Jaycen a perfect view of the New York sky. The receptionist looked up when she entered, her eyes widening just a little, but it was enough for Jaycen to realise she had been recognised.

  “Hi, how can I help?” The receptionist smiled brightly, too brightly for this time in the morning, Jaycen thought.

  “Can you point me to the library?” Jaycen asked, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand while noticing the coffee shop was still open. Things were starting to look up.

  “Of course, it’s just down that far corridor and on your left. It’s the one with large glass doors, you can’t miss it.” The receptionist quirked, again with a bright smile. The kind of smile that would hurt your cheeks eventually, Jaycen though, already backing away.

  “Thanks.” She walked over to the coffee shop and put in her order, her heart sinking as she reached into her jean pockets to find them empty, no change. “No stop, I don’t have any money, sorry,” she called to the barista quickly, trying to work out where her room was, so she could nip back. Coffee was now a necessity.

  The barista, a middle-aged small man, turned to look at her, his face void of any kind of emotion. Something Jaycen could understand working the night-time shift, the place was dead.

  “I’ve already started,” he told her, holding up the coffee, just in case she didn’t believe him.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve forgotten my money.”

  “But I’ve already started.” Again, he held up her coffee, this time giving it a little shake.

  “Want to give it to me for free?” she asked, smiling brightly, “Because that would be great.”

  “No.”

  “Then I honestly don’t know what you want me to do, I have no money. You have coffee you clearly don’t want to throw away.” She shrugged dramatically, “Maybe an IOU?”

  “No,” the guy said again.

  “Oh come on! It’s just coffee,” Jaycen stressed. “No one will know if you give it to me for free.”

  The barista’s eyes shifted to the left, Jaycen’s followed and landed on a tall man in his early thirties, watching them both with curiosity.

  “Apart from that guy, that guy will know. But that’s it, no one else.” She smiled, focu
sing back on the barista.

  “No. You need to pay.”

  “What you need to do is shove that coffee….”

  “I’ll pay for hers and add a large latte, thanks,” the newcomer cut in, throwing down a twenty onto the counter as he suppressed a smile. Mostly likely at Jaycen’s almost outburst.

  The barista looked at them both curiously before taking the note and started making the drinks, without giving any change back. Twenty dollars for two drinks? Surely that couldn’t be right. Now Jaycen was thinking that she couldn’t afford a drink even if she had gone to get her money.

  “You don’t need to do that.” She smiled at him, a little embarrassed at what she was about to do. Then the barista looked over his shoulder at her, scowling. Oh hell no, that guy deserved what she had been about to say.

  “I really did.” The man smiled down at her. “It didn’t look like you were going to be leaving anytime soon and I need my coffee.”

  “Well still, thank you.”

  The man nodded and smiled but looked away, clearly not interested in a conversation. Jaycen turned then, leaning her back against the counter and dug her hands in her pockets. From her spot, she could see out of the coffee shop doors and into the reception area. There were a few people walking past, but mainly she could see the receptionist, and how she kept nervously looking into the coffee shop. Looking for her maybe?

  “It’s ready,” the barista announced, sliding her coffee cup over the counter.

  “Thanks.” She took it, lifting it to her nose and breathing in deep. Oh, the sweet, sweet smell of heaven. She turned to the man and lifted her coffee a little. “And thanks again.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he mumbled back, not looking up from his phone.

  Jaycen left then, catching the receptionist motioning to her with her head while looking at two men wearing all black. Oh, dear lord.

  The two men noticed her watching them, one knocked the other, and they veered off to the left and away from Jaycen. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out they were going to follow her; her main question was why? The receptionist knew where she was going. What kind of trouble could she possibly get into at the library? She thought of walking over to them to demand to know what they wanted. Or maybe the receptionist, maybe she’d be easier to crack. The only thing that stopped her was Benedict and how disappointed he’d be in her. No. She wasn’t going to make a scene.

  But she did quicken her pace as she walked past the reception desk, the receptionist smiling brightly at her as she passed. Jaycen simply raised her eyebrows, that woman had a nerve. The receptionist's smile slowly disappeared, they both knew why.

  Jaycen reached the corridor in which she knew the library was on and was about to break out into a bit of a sprint until she noticed two men standing next to the door, both men holding guns. In fact, for a split-second, she thought they were waiting for her. That thought quickly died when neither of the men looked up at her as she approached. They were both too busy talking that they didn’t notice anyone had approached at all and carried on talking.

  “The guy gets treated better than us for heaven’s sake.”

  “You should complain, we both should.”

  The guards chatted as she passed. Jaycen looked over her shoulder, just to see if the two other guys were following her, they weren’t, not yet anyway. Maybe they weren’t going to, maybe they realised she was onto them and decided to abort their mission.

  “Yeah, we should.” The guards carried on as she passed them, “Or maybe we should attack a school, and maybe then we’d get special treatment.”

  Jaycen’s body got cold as she stopped walking and turned towards the guarded door. The guards were still completely oblivious as they carried on talking.

  Jaycen numbly walked towards them, her eyes fixed on the door.

  “Who is in there?” she asked, still not taking her eyes off the door.

  The guards finally stopped talking and looked at her.

  “It’s classified,” one said, while at the same time another said, “She’s his daughter.” And pointed his gun at her.

  So for the second time in twenty-four hours, Jaycen had a gun pointed at her head. But this time she didn’t react. And that was because everything went black, and Jaycen fell to the floor.

  Chapter 7

  Jaycen woke up, surrounded by comfort. Her head was fuzzy at first, and the feel of the bed around her was the only thing she was focused on. Any other thoughts became like smoke, unable to hold no matter how hard she tried. Her mouth was dry and her eyelids too heavy to lift. So she stopped trying, and her mind started to clear until eventually she could think clearly again.

  “Are you awake?”

  Jaycen opened her eyes to see Benedict sat just next to her, his eyes red with tiredness. He looked awful.

  “Yeah, I need a drink, though.” She pulled herself up, her head still feeling heavy. What the hell had happened to her? Benedict passed her a glass of water, which she gulped down, the liquid doing nothing to help the Sahara in her mouth. She looked around the room, noticing immediately it wasn’t her own. It was bigger for a start, and a lot messier with books and clothes scattered around the floor. “I need more.” She handed back the glass as she tried to remember how she’d gotten there in the first place.

  Benedict handed over a glass and watched her closely. Jaycen could remember getting a coffee, it was late, and then she was going to the library. Then it hit her. She spat the water out, coughing it up.

  Benedict took the glass from her and rubbed her back. “Damn, are you okay?”

  “He’s here,” Jaycen coughed up, her eyes now watering as she gasped for air. And Benedict rubbing her back just wasn’t helping. “I’m fine,” she assured, pushing his hand away. She twisted on the mattress, so she was facing him. “Darius is here. He’s in this building.”

  Benedict stared back at her, his brows creased just a little.

  “You don’t look surprised,” she noted, sitting back on her heels. “You knew.”

  “I just found out when I saw you in the hall,” Benedict told her solemnly.

  “The hall. . .” Jaycen thought back, she remembered looking at the door, the two guards stood outside and then. . . “Oh my gosh, did you knock me out?” she screeched, her hand going to the back of her head, trying to feel for a bump.

  Now Benedict looked horrified. “What? No! My lord no.” He shook his head vigorously. “When have you ever known me to hurt you? I would never.”

  “Then what happened?” She eyed him suspiciously.

  “I cast a spell on you, I didn’t want you making a scene.” He even looked uncomfortable saying the words, his eyes looking at everything but her. “A scene is the last thing we need right now. They’ve brought him here to test you, to push you. We need to stay strong and to stay focused.”

  Jaycen nodded. Benedict was one hundred percent right. But now there was something she couldn’t hold back anymore.

  “I knew he was here. I had, well I don’t know what it was. A dream? A vision? I don’t know, but I know he was in the building. I could hear him talking to this guy, about being in prison and breaking out. He said he had been moved to The Cure.” Jaycen gasped for air, only now being aware of how fast she had just spoken. The tiredness was now gone from Benedict’s eyes, but it was replaced with an alerted look of confusion.

  “He heard him? When? How? Where were you?”

  “Well. . .” She wasn’t even sure how she had been going to answer that. And as it turned out she didn’t have to when the door opened. A tall, dark-haired man stood in the doorway, his bright green eyes enhanced by his black shirt. Jaycen knew who he was immediately she’d met him a few times before. But even if she hadn’t met him before Jaycen would know who he was, he was the fallen Angel, Azrael. And damn wasn’t he good-looking. Almost too good-looking really, Jaycen pondered, unable to look away from his face.

  “Jaycen, close your mouth.” Benedict shook his head, clearly am
used.

  “They’re waiting for you downstairs,” Azrael called out to him, also clearly amused.

  Benedict let his head fall back with a frustrated groan. “Of course they are.” He looked back at Jaycen. “We don’t have time to talk about this. They are ready to interview you; we’ve got to go now.”

  *********

  It turned out that when Benedict said now, he really meant it. But that also meant that Jaycen had no time to get ready. She pulled up her hair into a tight ponytail, keeping it away from her face which she just had time to splash some water on. Her clothes were still crinkled from a full night’s traveling and her sleep, she looked a mess, and normally that wouldn’t bother her. But these men already hated her, shouldn’t she be at least trying to win them over? She knew, even without looking at them, that they were going to be old. And old people did not take kindly to crinkled clothes.

  “I should really go back and change,” she stressed, pulling her top down, trying to stretch it out as best she could.

  “No time, we’re here.” Benedict stopped, nodding at Azrael before he slipped into the large wooden doors and out of sight. “We should have had more time to prepare. This is too rushed. This is exactly what they want, to catch us off guard like this,” he cursed, shaking his head and rubbing his beard.

  “This is a terrible pep talk,” Jaycen said solemnly, giving up on her shirt altogether, it just really wasn’t helping.

  “I’ll be by your side throughout, and if there is a question you don’t want to answer, just say so. It should be very simple; they’ll ask you to go through what happened last night. Tell them everything you know. We have nothing to hide.”

  “I know that.” She licked her lips. “Will Thornton be in there?”

  “I don’t know. The case against him should be done separately, but they’re making up the rules as they go, so who knows.” He leaned forward, opening the large dark wooden door with one hand and motioning for Jaycen to enter first.