The Cursed: Book Three in The Tainted Series

by Anna Hill

  The Cursed

  Book Three

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter One

  Standing at the corner of the fireplace, she stared down at the dancing inferno. Twisting and turning flames rose in vibrant orange spikes, leaping off glowing logs and sending waves of heat cascading over her body. Poker in hand, she shifted the nearest log, causing a rush of bright embers and black smoke to billow up the chimney. On these lonely, cold winter nights, the warmth of the fire was her only comfort.

  Returning the poker to its metal holder beside the hearth, she turned away from the flames. The fire offered the only light in the small sitting room, causing dark, shifting shadows to fall from every object and shoot diagonally across the walls. Slowly, she made her way back over to her chair, taking her time to arrange the blanket across her legs. With a deep breath, she prepared herself for the confrontation she’d been avoiding for nearly ten minutes.

  “You can reveal yourself now. You know better than any that I’ve been aware of your presence since the moment you arrived.” She lifted her head and stared at the seemingly empty entryway.

  The air shimmered momentarily, and then a tall woman appeared, leaning against the doorframe. The soft light from the fireplace illuminated her perfectly fitted, green leather jacket and pants. The taut braid that hung over her right shoulder appeared just as it did when they’d first met so many years before.

  “It’s been a long time,” the woman said as she stood tall and made her way into the sitting room. She halted just left of the fireplace, keeping a fair distance between herself and the woman in the chair, more out of courtesy than anything. She knew she was unwelcome, but there were few, if any, who were welcome in this house.

  From her seat, she watched the uninvited woman enter and pause beside the fire. Its dancing light lit up half her face, leaving the other half to fall into dark shadows. She stared for a moment at the lit portion of the intruder. Just like her braid, the woman’s face appeared almost no different after all this time. It was painfully clear that the years had been far kinder to Aileen, than herself.

  “You can skip the small talk,” she grumbled from her chair. “I know you haven’t come here to catch up. Best not to waste my time or yours.”

  Aileen had known this wasn’t going to be easy. It’s why she’d waited so long to come to this house. No matter their shared history, this woman was no longer the friend she’d been so close to all those years ago. She was barely a skeleton of her former self. The proud, strong warrior Aileen had once known and admired had been replaced by this pitiful being, too blinded by her own depression to see what she’d done to not only herself, but to those she loved.

  “How long have you sat alone in this house, Gael? Wasting away as if you were already dead?”

  “What I choose to do with myself is of my own concern.” Anger flashed across Gael’s golden, eagle-like eyes and she clenched her fingernails into the armrests of her large chair. “I will not allow you to berate me in my own home.”

  “More like your prison,” Aileen snarled.

  “Watch your words,” Gael hissed.

  Aileen stepped forward, waving her hand at the pitiful accommodations around her. “You can continue to hide away in here and wallow in self-pity, or you can fight back.” Meeting Gael’s angered gaze with ferocity, she continued, “You know why I’m here, Gael. It’s time you joined us.”

  “And do what? Plot our revenge in secrecy until the army finds us? Until they kill us all?” Looking away from Aileen, Gael lowered her gaze to the floor. The dimming firelight elongated the dark circles under her hollow eyes until they nearly swallowed her face whole. “My days of fighting are long over. You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

  A heavy silence filled the room until finally, taking a slow, deep breath, Aileen spoke. “I’ve seen them, you know. Both of them. Handsome boys, so brave and strong. They take after their mother.”

  Gael kept her eyes focused on the ground, but Aileen could see her body shake. Large pools of tears brimmed at the corners of her old friend’s eyes.

  “Trysten…he’s…he’s alive…” Gael’s voice was barely a whisper. A single tear escaped, rolling off her cheek and falling into her lap.

  “Yes. Both he and Liam are with my daughter.”

  Gael remained silent, struggling to contain the sadness and pain that threatened to overwhelm her. He was alive! The son she’d never known. The son they’d stolen from her. And Liam had found him. He would bring him back to her. She knew it!

  “Liam is helping my daughter. He’s training her to control herself.”

  Gael’s eyes shot up, flooded with panic. “So, it’s true. She has the gene! All of it? She’s a full breed?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

  “Then you have to save my boys!” Gael stood, allowing the blanket to fall away from her frail form. “You have to get them out of there while you still can. They aren’t safe with her.”

  “How can you, of all people, say such a thing?”

  “This is different, and you know it. I’m not what she is.”

  “But Liam, he’s like you, isn’t he?”

  Gael stayed silent, staring stiffly back at Aileen. It was a secret she’d kept Liam’s whole life. The same secret she’d kept about herself. Aileen was the only one who knew the truth about her. She’d found out during their patrol days, many years ago and had kept the secret, a fact that was not lost on Gael. But she had to draw the line. What she is--what Liam is--is entirely different than Aileen’s daughter.

  “He’s not like her. His power is nothing compared to what she holds. He will never be able to help her control it.”

  “But you taught him, didn’t you? You showed him what you learned about them, about who they were and what they did. He knows what he’s doing. He’s her best shot at conquering that side of herself.”

  “And say she does; say she’s able to control the darkness and defeat the inner evil that seeks to consume her. What then? Will you unleash her? Will you have her join your mutiny and use her to destroy our civilization?”

  Aileen glared fiercely at Gael. “I’ll do what’s right. I’ll correct the wrong they made thousands of years ago, the wrong that destroyed both your life and mine--and those of countless more. I’ll make it so that no one else will ever again have to suffer at their hands.”

  Gael shook her head slowly, shifting her gaze to the fire. “Does she know? Have you told her what you plan to do with her?”

  Aileen’s strength faltered, “No…she has more than enough to worry about for now. I’ll tell her when the time is right.”

  “A choice, I fear, you’ll come to regret.” Gael looked back up at Aileen as she continued, “Honesty is an unfortunate rarity in this world.”

  Brushing aside the warning, Aileen
squared up to Gael. “What will it be? Will you join us? Will you join your sons?”

  Stepping closer to Aileen, Gael moved into the firelight, its soft glow illuminating her emaciated form. It was clear she’d once been extremely beautiful, but the years of depression had taken their toll. Her blonde hair, once luscious, now hung limply around her thin face and her threadbare clothes fell loosely on her frail frame. And yet, her fierce, golden eyes shown with a light Aileen had not seen in years. “I will join, but not for you, for my boys. When all of this is done, I want them to know that I fought for them, that I loved them. But first, you must make me a promise.”

  Aileen nodded.

  “You will protect them from her. You may believe your daughter can conquer that side of herself, but you cannot allow yourself to be blinded by that hope. If she turns, if she allows that side of herself to win, then you’ll get my boys to safety. Their lives must come first. Promise me this, or I will not join you.”

  Aileen paused, unable to answer. If she said yes, if she agreed, it was as good as admitting that Rebecca would fail and that she would lose her daughter to the darkness. She knew the stories well, the truth of the gene that Rebecca carried, that her family had carried for centuries. There was evil within her daughter, a wickedness burned into her DNA that would forever threaten to control her. But she’d seen her daughter. Aileen had looked into her eyes and seen her purity, her potential for good and love. Rebecca was her father’s child, she had to be. She could never, would never, allow herself to be consumed.

  Standing erect and strong, Aileen nodded again. “I promise. Your boys will be safe.”

  Gael lifted her frail hand, offering it to Aileen, who grasped her old friend’s forearm. Gael’s bright eyes flashed and she clasped Aileen’s in return. “For our children.”

  Chapter Two

  “Rebecca…what have you done?”

  Gasping loudly, Rebecca snapped upright in her chair, panting heavily. Cold sweat dripped down the middle of her back as her heart beat wildly in her heaving chest. Her vision shifted in and out of focus as her horrifying dream and reality merged into one.

  “Rebecca, are you alright?”

  Still out of breath, Rebecca turned to see Cailleach sitting in the chair beside her. She took a moment to calm herself, glancing up at the clock on the far wall. Four in the morning. She’d been in the waiting room for almost 60 hours straight, a new record.

  “I brought you a coffee,” Cailleach lifted the cup in her hand, “but now I’m thinking I might just send you home.”

  “No, I’m fine.” Rebecca forced a smile and shrugged her shoulders, attempting to look nonchalant. “I just nodded off, that’s all.”

  Cailleach laughed sarcastically, “Look, you’re the only one in here. You should just go back to my place. Most of the staff haven’t even been at the hospital as long as you have.”

  Rebecca stared into her lap. She could feel the fatigue and how desperately her body needed sleep. She’d seen the dark, purple circles that had formed under her eyes and the hollowed look of her features. For two weeks she’d been haunted, unable to fully rest. The hospital had become her world. It was the only place where she could find some control. Several times, she’d tried to go back to Cailleach’s apartment, back to the crew, to Liam, but she couldn’t bare herself there. As soon as she saw them, her mind was flooded with images of the dead bodies, of the blood covering her skin, of Maverick dying in her arms. Rebecca’s heart sunk and her voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper, “I need to stay. I need to know he’s alright.”

  Cailleach sighed heavily. “Just go in there. You’re going to drive yourself mad if you don’t.”

  Rebecca shook her head, fighting the tears that threatened to surface. She tried to speak, but no words came.

  “It’s midnight, he’s asleep. And if you don’t go in his room, I’ll kick you out of the hospital.”

  Shocked, Rebecca gaped at her. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I would.” Standing, Cailleach towered over her, pointing an accusing finger as she waved the coffee cup around, its contents splashing dangerously close to the rim. “I’ve put up with a lot from all of you lately and haven’t said a word, but that’s about to change. For the last two weeks, I’ve had seven people living in my tiny one-bedroom apartment, five of whom I’ve had to basically nurse back to life, and you lurking around my hospital’s waiting room like some pathetic ghost. I’ve just about had it! Now stand up and follow me, or, so help me, I’ll drag you into that room myself.”

  “But I--”

  “No, I don’t want to hear it. Stand up!”

  Rebecca sprang upwards on command. She’d never seen Cailleach angry. In fact, Cailleach was perhaps the most levelheaded person Rebecca had ever met. However, the stern look in her eyes and her obvious exhaustion-fueled temper made it all too clear that, no matter how hard she tried, Rebecca was not going to win this argument.

  “Now, take this and follow me.” Shoving the coffee into Rebecca’s hand, Cailleach pivoted and marched out of the room, turning right as soon as she entered the hallway.

  Rebecca trailed a few paces behind her, clenching the warm cup of coffee in her hands. Its heat comforted her, but it wasn’t enough to ease the anxiety that had set her stomach churning and her pulse rising until it thudded in her ears. She wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to see him.

  After making their way down countless hallways and through several sets of double doors, Cailleach finally came to an abrupt halt. She turned to face Rebecca, who had stopped a few feet back and was desperately clutching the cup to her chest.

  “I’ve had to move him further away again. It’s getting harder and harder to keep him here. Every day, there’s a new staff member I have to convince to allow--”

  “I can’t go in there,” Rebecca blurted out, cutting off Cailleach. “Please, please just let me go back to the waiting room, or your apartment. I promise, I won’t bother you anymore.”

  Cailleach’s stern demeanor fell and her features transformed into a look of empathy. “Rebecca,” she sighed as she took as step closer, eliminating the gap between them. “I know this is hard for you. I can’t imagine going through what happened to you that day. But, he’s alive because of what you di--”

  “That’s not true. He almost died because of me. He’s here because of me. I did this to him.” Rebecca felt her hands tremble, causing the coffee to splash precariously in the cup. “This is all my fault.”

  “You can’t think like that. If you blame yourself for this, then you might as well blame yourself for every Truaillithe being raised as an orphan. The Aillil did this. You have to remember that.” Cailleach raised her hand and placed it on Rebecca’s arm, giving her a soft, reassuring squeeze. “As hard as it is, you need to go in there. Trust me.”

  With a gentle nod of her head, Cailleach removed the now cold cup from Rebecca’s hands, turned, and headed off down the hallway.

  Rebecca’s first instinct was to run, to spin around and race for the exit with every bit of strength she could muster. But she remained still. Cailleach was right. She had to do this. She’d have to see him eventually, better that it happen now when he was unconscious--lying in a hospital bed, bandaged and broken…because of her.

  Rebecca felt her hands begin to shake again, so she clasped them together in front of her chest and took a long, deep breath. Cailleach was right, she repeated to herself, she needed to do this.

  With another deep breath, Rebecca stepped forward, pulled open the door and slipped inside the room, closing the door delicately behind her.

  The first thing she noticed was the horrible silence. The hustle of the frantic hospital outside the room had melted away, as if it had never existed. Only the soft beep of the heart rate monitor periodically broke the heavy stillness. It smelled too, of cleanliness, as if the entire room had been sanitized. It was off-putting, giving the already desolate, dark space a greater sense of bleak isolation. The curtains had bee
n drawn over the only small window on the far wall, causing the light from the streetlamps to flood over their edges, creating a dim glow in the gloomy room.

  She stood frozen, paralyzed by anxiety. For at least five minutes, she cowered by the door; unable to move, unable to look toward the bed. She didn’t want to see him, not yet.

  Careful to keep her gaze pinned on the far wall, Rebecca made her way around the room to the single chair that was adjacent to the small window. As she sat down, its cold metal surface made her skin tingle, even through her layers of clothing, which only added to her discomfort.

  Just then, a loud rustle came from the bed and its occupant rolled toward her. Before she could stop herself, Rebecca’s head snapped upwards and her eyes locked onto the emerald green pair that peered out at her.

  Rebecca’s vision blurred as tears immediately welled within her eyes, a wave of suppressed emotions crashing over her with such force that she feared she might suffocate. She could feel her body trembling as she struggled to maintain control, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop. It was as if her body had severed its connection with her brain. She could only stare, unblinking, into those green eyes. But they weren’t the eyes she knew, the eyes she’d stared into so many times before. Usually so dazzling, a brilliant green like the forest during the height of spring, they now appeared dull and faded, as if the light had been drained right out of them. The large, sunken, purple circles that had formed beneath them only added to the sallow appearance of the thin face that gazed so avidly up at her.

  Rebecca tore her eyes away, unable to hold his gaze any longer. Instead, she scanned the large figure tucked into the thin hospital sheets, her grief rapidly growing heavier in her chest. He was so pale. Even in the dim light, she could see the blue veins coursing underneath his pallid skin. He’d lost weight too. His once muscular frame now appeared frail and broken. A large IV drip hung next to his bedside, its translucent painkiller-laced liquid slowly traveling down the long tube that was inserted into his arm. Yet, even with these drugs, the tenseness in his body and face made it clear that pain still wrecked him. Even his breathing was irregular, labored and heavy as he lay motionless under his sheets.