The Konig Cursebreakers

by Brenna Lyons

  Chapter Fourteen

  May 24, 2029

  Curt speared a piece of sausage from his plate and popped it into his mouth, grinding it between his teeth in frustration. Twelve days! He hadn’t touched Erin in twelve days. At first, he’d agreed out of a sense of putting her at ease with him. Taking Erin the way he had had been presumptuous and — beastly. It was no wonder she was pushing him away. Was his madness so severe that he had all but forced himself on her?

  Well, ‘forced’ was a little strong a word. Curt definitely convinced her in a stronger-than-prudent manner, which in itself could be construed as a capital offense if Erin had chosen to make a complaint of it. Considering who and what she was, it would have been a capital offense, he was sure. But, she didn’t.

  Erin hadn’t been unwilling. Well, Curt couldn’t have defended that. She did try to push away, but he’d convinced her to stay. He shuddered to consider that. Coaxing a woman into willingness was definitely an offense.

  She hadn’t been unready, and he’d given her every opportunity to walk away, except for that single moment when he’d held her locked to him— Okay, several instances like that. Curt could have groaned at how bad it all sounded, even to himself.

  Still, he’d released her and given Erin leave to walk away. She hadn’t. Erin had taken him, and she’d begged for him. She’d given herself to Curt freely and passionately.

  Then, she’d pushed him away, demanding that he never touch her again. Even now, Curt had no idea what caused her to turn on him so suddenly, but having Erin again — having her beg for him again — became an obsession of sorts.

  After the first four days, the idea of putting her at ease had evaporated, overpowered by his printing. Curt craved her, but Erin made it clear that her prohibition stood. He couldn’t make love to her, couldn’t kiss her, and couldn’t touch her. Trying to lay a hand on her shoulder had landed him painfully on the kitchen floor with a bruise so deep that it was still tender three days later.

  Erin had progressed from indifferent to hostile to psychotic over the previous four or five days. Even her parents couldn’t get within a room’s length of her except for meals and training now. After Curt’s attempt to touch her, she’d snapped. Erin had started spending all her free time locked in her room. She appeared for training, and she picked at her meals. Other than that, she was very much a ghost.

  Her parents noticed the change in her. How could anyone not? To Curt’s surprise, they seemed to be ignoring it warily. The entire thing was a powder keg and dynamite with a lit match setting by, and Curt was waiting to see whether Erin or Talon would blow first.

  If it weren’t for Erin’s stubborn refusal to touch him over the last twelve days, Curt might have thought she had been driven mad by printing, but no one could have that much self-control. Curt knew better than anyone in the cabin did what the urge to touch someone you were printing on was like. If he didn’t touch her soon, Talon’s blade would find a ready home.

  As it was, Curt could only assume that Erin was angry or frightened by his actions at the lake. He ground his teeth on a soft bite of egg as he considered the irony that his mounting madness would put the nails in his coffin as far as Erin was concerned. Printing had always been her greatest fear.

  Talon looked back and forth between the two of them, something he had been doing more and more often lately. Curt focused his attention on his plate, pushing it away.

  “Feeling all right, Curtis?” he asked pointedly.

  “Fine,” he lied. “Just fine, Talon.”

  “That’s good, because I’m feeling a little under the weather today. You’ll have to handle Erin’s workout.”

  Curt snapped a startled look at Talon then shifted his eyes to Erin. She was pale, and her eyes were wide. He closed his eyes, cursing himself for the reaction he was seeing.

  “Are you all right?” Curt growled, desperate to give her an out despite the urge to spend time with her.

  “I— Actually, I think whatever it is may be catching, Dad. I think I’ll skip training today.”

  Curt noted the relief on her face, though she avoided his eyes.

  “Oh?” Talon said. “Maybe I should call Sylvia out.”

  “I’m sure a doctor isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine in a day or two,” she replied evenly.

  “Maybe you should tell me what’s ailing you. After all, it might not be the same thing.”

  “I...” Erin met Curt’s eyes and set her jaw then looked back to her father. “I’m just a little achy and my stomach is a little upset. It’s nothing serious. I’m sure it will pass.”

  “Hmm. Malaise and stomach? Maybe I should contact Sylvia after all.”

  “I said no. For pities sake, I am an adult not a two-year-old.”

  Jayde glanced at her husband and picked up the ball in the strange way they seemed to have, even when one was completely in the dark about what the other was doing. They always took the other’s lead when they were unsure. “If you’re too sick to train, Sylvia might be a good idea, Erin,” her mother chimed in innocently.

  Erin launched to her feet. “Fine. I’ll train. Dammit! You people are impossible.” She stormed toward the ladder and swung up the first two rungs.

  “Where are you going, honey?” Jayde called out brightly, knowing she was spinning Erin beautifully, Curt was sure.

  “To get my weapons. Have Maher outside. Looks like he’s done eating anyway.”

  Curt shook his head angrily and crossed to the couch. He pulled on his boots and weapons, uttering curses under his breath. Maher? How damned impersonal did Erin intend to get with him? He shuddered internally to consider it.

  Talon came to sit next to him as Curt worked the buckles on his boots. “Don’t take it easy on her,” he instructed. “Take whatever you see, and take it well.”

  “Believe me, I won’t take it easy on her. She’s sure’s hell done playing on my sympathy. The mighty Erin of König, elder hunter and Blutjagdfrau, thinks she can snap her fingers for the lowly Maher. I’ll give her a workout she won’t soon forget.”

  Talon clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the right attitude. Keep it in mind.”

  Curt stalked toward the door with Talon at his heels. “Playing sick to avoid working out with me,” he fumed. “If it was you, she wouldn’t have balked at sparring.”

  “Wrong and right,” he replied evenly.

  Curt looked over his shoulder, stilling just a stride onto the grass and staring in confusion at the man on the steps. Somehow, that comment made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

  “She would have trained with me without a word. You’re right about that.”

  He took another step then forced himself onward toward the center of the field, still trying to piece it together and failing. “What did I say wrong?”

  “Erin really is sick. She’s not lying about that. I’m pretty sure she feels like crap about now,” he confided in profound amusement.

  Curt stopped abruptly, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of him with a sledge. “If she’s sick, call the doctor.”

  “She said no, and she’s fought in worse shape. She will again, no doubt.”

  “You’re telling me that Erin really is sick. Very sick, and you want me to beat her to a pulp if I can manage it?” Okay, Talon snapped first. It’s official.

  “That’s the general idea.”

  He looked over Talon’s shoulder at Jayde, still on the porch. Did she know this plan? Did she even know Erin was really sick? Probably not. Jayde would have had Sylvia out if she knew. “Why?”

  Talon smiled. “When I took Jayde into my custody... When I found her, she had to learn what nonsense I would not deal with. Sometimes, that meant wrestling her to the ground bodily and making the rules of engagement clear to her. Erin still thinks she can snap her fingers. That’s nonsense. Teach her that you’re her equal.”

  Curt furrowed his brow and watched Talon walk back to join Jayde on the porch. He threw an arm comfortabl
y around his wife. The Lord and Lady König settled in to watch the fireworks, and it was going to be one hell of a show.

  He turned from them in confusion. Curt was never going to understand this household. While he couldn’t deny that he had stifled the urge several times to wrestle the hellcat — his hellcat to the ground and make her see reason, the fact that her family was encouraging it floored him.

  They were not only encouraging it, they’d ordered Curt to teach Erin limits he wasn’t sure he had any right to set for her. König was the house above all houses, and Erin was stone chosen. She was one of the true elder hunters. Curt was nowhere near her league. Yet, Talon was proclaiming that Curt was Erin’s equal and demanding he prove it.

  “Are we training or not?” Erin asked acidly, appearing beside him with due König stealth.

  “Would you rather not? We could call the doctor and skip it,” he replied evenly.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You know that was bullshit. I’m not sick, and you know it.”

  “Do I?” Curt asked pointedly. “Do I know it?” Talon said she was sick. If she really felt like shit, she had to know it.

  Erin swallowed slowly and ducked her head, straightening her bracers.

  Bingo! Talon knows his stuff.

  “It’s bullshit, Curt,” she assured him.

  At least she wasn’t a good liar, he decided. “If you say so. At least I have a name again.” He smiled crookedly. “Are you ready or not? I mean, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it.”

  “Fine.” She unsheathed her weapons and stepped back several yards to prepare.

  “I’ll try not to touch you too much,” Curt ground out, reminding himself that he was teaching Erin a lesson she desperately needed.

  “Good. You do that.”

  “As you wish, Erin.”

  She scowled at him and rolled her eyes in response. Erin attacked first, fast and hard. Curt realized that she would draw blood if he faltered in the least.

  Her fighting style was a shade different than the last time he battled with her. It wasn’t just that she was fighting Curt like he was an enemy. He had seen her fight beasts before. It was something less definable than that. Her balance was different, not off but different. Her stance — changed slightly.

  He fought on pure instinct while his mind performed a critical analysis of what she was doing. Realization came slowly. Erin was leaving a hole. Curt watched it in disbelief. Since when did Erin ever leave a hole? She was an expert at finding and closing holes, both her own and those of opponents. She didn’t make mistakes like that.

  Curt shuddered inwardly. Talon told him not to take it easy on her. He had to call her on the hole. Gently, he decided. Talon believed in gentle reminders. Curt landed his punch carefully.

  Erin’s cry of pain rattled him. He’d seen her take much harder hits without batting an eye. She staggered back from him, dropping her left blade to wrap that arm around her aching chest while she kept the right up at defensive. Her breathing was rough, and she ground her teeth. Erin was in pain — much more pain than his blow warranted, and she wasn’t faking it.

  He muttered several harsh curses as he sheathed his blade. How sick was Erin that she was in this much pain? What game was she playing by refusing medical aid? Well, whatever game it was, it was over. Sylvia was coming out to the cabin whether Erin liked it or not.

  Curt moved to her, trying to help her back to the cabin. Erin wrenched away from him before he could take her arm. He threw up his hands and growled in frustration.

  “Dammit, Erin! I’m taking you back to the cabin and calling the doctor. Quit fighting me.”

  “You do not touch me,” she reminded him, her voice just a hair off of hysterical. “You never touch me. I’m not seeing a doctor. Give me a minute, and I’ll be fine.”

  “My ass you will. What is the matter with you?” Curt moved for her again.

  She sliced her remaining blade at him with a snarl, but it was a sloppy, half-hearted effort. He captured her wrist and snatched the blade from her hand, tossing it away.

  Curt started to rail at her, but the look on Erin’s face stopped him cold. Her eyes were locked on the hand circling her wrist. She wasn’t angry. She was terrified. A sudden certainty that Erin was afraid of a simple touch angered him again.

  “Erin,” he grumbled, “I’m not going to take you in front of your parents. I’m not going to take you when you’re sick and hurt, anyway.”

  She met his eyes warily and tried to remove her wrist from his grasp. “Please, let me go,” she whispered.

  He looked at her in confusion. She wasn’t being sexually excited by his touch. Why else would his touch... Touch? It wasn’t a prohibition on kissing or sex, but on touch in any form. Curt was never allowed to lay a hand on her. But, the only thing special touch did for him— He tightened his grip slightly and sensed her.

  Her face drained of color as his Blutjagd spiked. “Curt, please—”

  “Walk,” he ordered her, barely containing the urge to physically hurt someone — not her, but someone.

  Erin shook her head and backed away as far as his grip would allow. She was shaking. Curt never thought he’d see Erin shake in fear, and it was him that she was afraid of.

  “Walk or I’ll carry you,” he assured her, consciously gentling his voice.

  “You wouldn’t,” she replied in shock.

  Curt swung her so that his right arm was wrapped around her back, still grasping her right wrist. Erin stumbled into position and started beating ineffectually at his chest with her left hand. The angle was awkward for her since her hand was already wedged against him, and it worked to his advantage. Had Erin gone for his balls, it would have been more difficult for Curt to grab her left wrist in his free hand and transfer it into the vice grip of his right hand with the other.

  He tried to draw her along, but Erin planted her feet like a stubborn mule. He looked at her in exasperation. “Are you going to kick? I will completely immobilize you if I have to. Do I have to resort to that?”

  She shook her head slowly, but her shaking intensified. “Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded with him.

  “Carry you? Okay, walk.”

  “No.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t do this.” Erin was controlling her tears — barely.

  Curt sighed and swung her legs up onto his left arm. He stalked to the cabin, fuming. Talon knew, and he let Curt strike her. He urged him to strike her. Curt’s jaw tightened as he saw Talon holding Jayde back. Damn them both! Teaching Erin a lesson was one thing. This was madness. In a moment of crystal clarity, Curt knew that Talon was the one he wanted to hurt, but he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

  Jayde lunged for her daughter as Curt mounted the steps. He sidestepped her, snarling at the interference.

  Talon wrapped his arms around his wife, restraining her in a bear hug. “No. This is between them,” he soothed her.

  “She’s hurt,” Jayde pleaded.

  “I’m fine,” Erin answered miserably.

  “Leave,” Curt ordered. “Both of you, get out. I want a few hours of peace to talk.”

  Erin looked at him in shock and started fighting his grip. Curt shifted his hold to keep her from kicking him, and she stopped, realizing it was futile.

  “Dad, you can’t allow this,” she begged him.

  Curt pulled Erin further into his chest in mute warning to her father, and she wiggled in his grip. “Quit squirming or I will tie you hand and foot,” he warned.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Wanna bet?” he replied dangerously. Curt glared at Talon. “I said ‘leave’.”

  The older man nodded. “Do you want me to call Sylvia?” he offered.

  “You know what she needs. Why don’t you go to town and get it?” he replied sarcastically.

  Erin looked at her parents in shock. “Dad?”

  Talon smiled and patted her cheek, pulling his hand back at a warning grumble from Curt. “See you in a few hours
, honey. Believe me, your mother and I learned that secrets like this can be fatal.”

  “Oh, no. Dad, please don’t leave me here like this.”

  “Talon,” Jayde demanded.

  “Later,” he assured her. Talon smiled and gave his wife a nudge down the stairs. “Never try to hide anything from us, Erin.” He nodded to Curt and stepped down to Jayde. “We’ll give you four hours or so. Oh, and we’re switching rooms around. If you want to get Erin settled in—”

  Curt glared at him. “Just leave!”

  Talon nodded and dragged Jayde along toward their truck.

  “Talon,” she warned. “You are going to explain everything to me.”

  “On the way,” he promised.

  Erin didn’t watch them leave. She turned her face away from all of them, and Curt could feel the hitching breaths that announced her tears.

  His heart softened. “Relax. We need to talk.”

  He pushed the door open and crossed to the master bedroom. Curt groaned as he realized that the bed was freshly made up and Jayde and Talon’s bags were packed to move. “Can’t they be just a little subtle?” he complained.

  “Why should they? They think they’ve got all the aces. They can afford to be cocky.”

  Curt settled her on the bed carefully, and Erin skittered away as soon as she was free of him. “Calm down. I just want to talk to you,” he soothed her.

  She shook her head. “Nothing to talk about,” she mumbled.

  “That,” he started to storm. He bit it off as she flinched. Curt took a deep breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep from shaking her. He dropped his voice to a strained whisper. “That is my baby — our baby.”

  Erin curled onto the pillow facing away from him and wrapped her arms around her chest. “I don’t want you to do your duty,” she replied in a halting voice. “I’m a Warrior, too. I’m perfectly capable of doing this alone.”

  Curt felt his jaw drop. Of everything he expected to hear, this wasn’t even in the running. “Duty? Damn you! That is my baby you’re carrying. Do you think I give a damn about duty right now?”