Curses!

by J. A. Kazimer

  My blood heated. Damn, she looked good. For a deceitful, cheating bitch bent on destroying me. I shook my head. “With who or if I’m even in love is none of your business.” I glowered. “You left me, remember?”

  Natasha’s lips curled back, showing off her rows of perfectly pointy teeth. All the better to eat you up with. “How much do you know about your precious princess?”

  “Watch it.”

  “Struck a nerve, did I?” Natasha’s eyes lit with satisfaction. “Poor RJ. Always falling for the wrong woman. Why do you think that is?”

  “If you have something to say, say it.” I crossed my arms over my chest. The soft, damp fabric of my T-shirt bunched under my fingers.

  “Fine.” Natasha’s lips pulled into a pout. “Your new girlfriend is cursed.”

  “And?”

  “And a week from now, she’ll weigh a ton, and I’m not exaggerating. Anytime the poor dear eats or drinks while in the kingdom, she gains ten pounds.”

  Well, that explained the maternity pants. “You said while inside the kingdom. What about when she’s in the city?”

  Natasha smirked. “That’s the sad part. Inside the kingdom, she can’t eat at all, and outside, she can’t stop eating. The poor dear can never be satisfied.” Her grin suggested Asia’s lack of satisfaction extended to other areas as well. “But there is a way to save her.”

  “And you’ll tell me how, right? For a price.”

  “Oh, sugar, you know me so well,” she said with a toss of her jet-black locks. The setting sunlight reflected in every silken strand. “But don’t you worry. It’s a price you’ll be happy to pay.”

  “What do I have to do?” I agreed without hesitation. Saving Asia mattered more than whatever evilness Natasha had in store. This wasn’t the first time my former wife had blackmailed me into some sort of devious deed. In the past, I’d killed, nearly died, and ended up naked in a vat of Jell-O for her. And like the last eight times, I’d survive, a wee bit wiser, and slightly afraid of whipped cream.

  “Join me.” Again, she stroked my arm with her manicured nails. A month ago, one touch and I would’ve done anything she asked, but not today. Today, whatever dirty deed I orchestrated for Natasha was solely to save my not-so-ugly-or-skinny princess.

  “Join you how?” Again, I peeled her fingers away.

  For a second rage filtered across Natasha’s normally expressionless face, but it quickly passed, leaving a serene smile on her lips. “In developing a new villainous union. A union for the villain about the villain. That can be our slogan. Or maybe, what have you done for your union today?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Just think about it. No more union dues or forced mental health leave. No more nepotism.” Her eyes shined with a demented glow. “How many times were you passed up for a promotion only to watch one of those damned Brothers Grimm get the corner office? If we start our own union, you can have it all. We can have it all.”

  Oh, it sounded good, all right. But only the stupidest of villains would cross the union. Hell, the union made the dwarf mob look like a bunch of flower-sniffing pansies. The last villain dumb enough to cross the union ended up buried under a house and missing a very valuable pair of ruby red sneakers.

  Natasha wasn’t finished. “We can rule New Never City. Maybe the world. But first, we need to leave Maledetto.”

  “Can’t.” I shrugged. “I vowed to solve Cinderella’s murder, and I’m not leaving until I do.” Or at least until Asia agreed to play a rousing naked game of doctor.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her breasts swelling above the collar of her black tank dress like the snow-capped peaks of the Blue Mountains. “Cinderella was killed by—”

  Those were the last words Natasha ever spoke.

  An arrow sliced through the alley, and with grim accuracy, found its target in the center of Natasha’s chest. She clutched the pink-feathered arrow, her eyes wide, and toppled into my arms.

  “Natasha.” I grabbed the arrow, trying to stem the flow of blood. With each fading beat of her heart, more blood poured from her chest. So much blood. Almost black in color. “No! Come on. Breathe,” I repeated over and over. My lips found hers, forcing air into her deflated lungs. Her chest rose with each breath. Up and down. Her cold mouth against mine. I gagged, tasting the coppery flavor of blood and cherry lip gloss.

  “Natasha,” I said, my breathing as ragged as the wound in her chest. “Damn you. Don’t die.”

  But she was beyond saving. Blood soaked into the paving stones. A small stream trickled from Natasha’s bloodless lips, mixing with the puddle growing larger on the ground beneath us.

  Maybe it was the shock of it, but I felt nothing—no sadness, grief, or anger at her death. Even stranger, Natasha looked peaceful, her face softer in death, more so than she had ever looked in life.

  I slowly lowered her body to the ground. Her blood stained my hands and seeped into my clothes. The coppery scent of death clogged my throat. The horror of what occurred had yet to fully sink in. Natasha was dead. My ex-wife was murdered, probably by the same person who murdered Cinderella.

  While I stood less than a foot away.

  My hand hovered above her slack face, and after taking a deep breath, I staggered to my feet. Was the killer lurking at the top of the alley? Lying in wait for his next victim?

  I started down the alley, my boots slamming against the hay-strewn pavement, intent on escaping before a second arrow flew my way. Not that I feared death. Nope, I just didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good T-shirt. Arrow holes were hell to remove from cotton.

  Before I reached the end of the alley, something smashed into my head. Something hard and metal. A shovel came to mind, well, really more like at my mind, smacking me full on the side of the noggin. The blow sent me flying backward into a pile of discarded little piggy parts. I landed with a squishy thud, knocking the back of my head against the brick wall. Pain exploded inside my already contused brain. Stars rocketed through my vision.

  Shaking my bruised head, I tried to focus on the figure standing in the opening of the alley, but blackness seeped in. The world shifted from blue to grey and finally faded to black.

  I closed my aching eyes and let the tiny bluebirds circling my head carry me away.

  Chapter 14

  Sometime later, I woke to a chorus of “It’s Not That Small a World After All” echoing inside my swollen brain. Sadly, when I opened my eyes things only got worse. My body rested on a bed of moldy straw that smelled like rotted meat and pond scum. My stomach rolled. On second sniff, I decided the straw wasn’t the problem. I was. Holding back a wave of bile crawling up my throat, I rose from the straw bed and surveyed my new home.

  The Maledetto Kingdom Jail.

  Steel bars blocked the one and only door as well as a small window toward the back. A stream of dirty moonlight filtered through the bars, causing my head to ache even harder. This was a personal record. Not even two days after arriving in town, I’d wound up in jail, and for once, I was completely innocent of any charge. That was an embarrassment in itself. What kind of villain didn’t murder his ex-wife?

  “Hey,” I yelled to the guard standing outside the jail cell. “I want my one phone call.” Not that it would do any good. Who was I going to call? The union? With Asia pissed and Natasha dead, my options for bail were limited at best. “And some clean clothes,” I added after getting another whiff of myself.

  The guard ignored my demands, so I took matters into my own hands and stripped off my Levi’s and T-shirt. They were stiff with dried blood. Natasha’s blood.

  Under normal circumstances, standing in the middle of a jail cell, naked, would make one evaluate their life. In my case the opposite occurred. I reviewed the last couple of days, analyzing every statement and seemingly innocent gesture, searching for a clue to the identity of Cinderella’s killer.

  Apparently whoever it was wasn’t finished yet. Natasha’s murder was proof of that. I clenched my fist
s and vowed to find Natasha’s murderer. I hadn’t loved Natasha, not with the true love forever kind of love. Even so, the villainous code of conduct required swift and immediate malicious revenge, which I was willing to provide. I was done playing around. It was time to catch a killer.

  “Rump—” a guard began.

  “That’s me.” I waved my arm to cut him off.

  “You made bail.”

  “Really?” My brow puckered.

  “Unless you’d prefer an extended stay.” The guard sneered, his gun and teeth gleaming green in the fluorescent lights. “We’d be happy to have the likes of you.”

  Since this wasn’t my first stint in the slammer I kept my mouth shut and waited for the barred door to open. When it did, I stumbled from the cell as if I’d spent years locked inside, rather than a few unconscious hours. Of course, I was still completely naked, but that didn’t seem to bother the guard.

  “This way,” he said, leading me down a long grey corridor. I followed behind, my head aching with each step. I fingered the shovel-shaped bruise on the side of my face. Flakes of dried blood stuck to my fingers.

  At the end of the hallway another door opened as if by magic, but really, a female guard stood on the other side, one hand on the door handle and the other on her gun.

  When my nakedness passed her, she rolled her eyes, but like the first guard she didn’t say a word. The doorway opened into an atrium filled with angry midgets, swashbuckling cops (eye patches included), and tearful chicks in red carrying baskets of half-eaten goodies. A typical police station, with one small exception.

  Prince Fucking Charming.

  You might wonder how I knew the douche bag standing in the center of the chaos-filled room was indeed the aforementioned prince. Easy. Who else but a prince named Charming would wear a frilly lace pirate shirt opened halfway down his chest? Not to mention, his flowing blond locks of hair appeared windswept even in the stagnant air.

  I hated him on principle, and on sight.

  Charming started forward, his manicured hand outstretched to shake mine. “Inspector, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said as if we’d casually met on the street corner rather than inside a police station, me charged with murder and naked to boot. “My name is Prince Charming.” He bowed low at the waist. “The beautiful Princess Asia requested my aid in securing your release.”

  Well, that answered one question. “How did Asia know I was here?”

  “A little birdie, perhaps?” Charming shrugged his massive and surprisingly girlish shoulders. He smiled and winked at a man in a paisley uniform standing next to the guard.

  My eyes narrowed. Was Charming making a joke or was that a threat? Not that it mattered. Any villain worth his weight could wipe the floor with an effeminate prince. Blindfolded, if need be. “Where is Asia?”

  “She awaits your return at the palace.” He smiled, showing off perfect rows of teeth only an orthodontist could love. “I will escort you to the princess at once.”

  I waved to my nakedness. “How about a detour to King-Mart first?”

  “As you wish.” Once more, he bowed, this time much too low for my heterosexual comfort.

  An hour later, dressed in a freshly purchased pair of Levi’s and a black T-shirt, I strode to the castle doors. Prince Charming fell in step behind me. I rolled my eyes, tired of his constant and irritating goodness.

  Wherever we went, people bowed and scraped to His Annoyingness. Charming, in turn, tossed gold coins at peasants, kissed leprous babies, and called every ugly maiden by name. It was like being stuck with Mother Teresa before she married Father Goose.

  By the time we reached the palace steps, I determined two things. If Charming killed Cinderella, it wasn’t due to his obsession with her. Sure, the guy was deeply in love, but not with his dead fiancée. Nope, Charming’s one true love was, in fact, Charming. The guy couldn’t keep his hands off himself.

  Secondly, I decided, when the union reinstated me, my first order of business was to strangle His Annoyingness with his lacy pirate shirt. I pictured his bulging eyes and grinned.

  “RJ!” Asia threw open the palace door and rushed toward me. All 147 pounds of her. Natasha was right. Poor Asia suffered from a curse, but honestly, I didn’t mind. To me, skinny or fat, Asia looked beautiful. In fact, she carried those new pounds in all the right places. What man didn’t appreciate D-cups?

  “I was so worried when you didn’t come back to the palace ... worried about you, that is,” she said, her eyes searching my face.

  “As you can see,” I gestured to each of my appendages, “I am just fine. No need to worry.” I almost added “your pretty little head” but I wasn’t in the mood to pick up my teeth from the shag carpet.

  Asia stepped back, her eyes narrowing. “So what happened?”

  “Happened?”

  “Yes. Happened.” She tapped her foot like a schoolmarm. “This afternoon you left the palace in search,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “of Cinderella’s killer, and now you’re charged with murder. What the hell happened?” She shouted the last part so loud my eardrums nearly exploded. I grabbed my aching head and frowned.

  “According to the police, the inspector shot his ex-wife with an arrow during a domestic altercation,” blabbed Prince Big Mouth. “Furthermore, the police suspect he—”

  “Thanks for the ride.” I shoved the prince out the door and slammed it closed before he could finish his statement. Then I turned back to Asia. “I didn’t do it.”

  She raised her eyebrow.

  “I swear.”

  Again silence greeted my pronouncement. “Fine,” I said. “Don’t believe me. What do I care?” But I did care. The spot right below my breastbone started to ache as bad as my head. What the fuck was wrong with me? So what if Asia didn’t believe me. I knew the truth. Someone, very likely the same someone who killed Cinderella, had murdered my ex-wife and framed me for the whole bloody thing. I had to give the killer a measure of grudging respect. Framing me was a bit of villainous brilliance.

  With a harsh sigh, I plopped down on the living room couch and waited for Asia’s condemnation.

  “I do believe you.”

  “Really?” I asked. Was she stupid? Sure, I really was innocent, but still, I had means, motive, opportunity, and pretty decent aim. I guess she wasn’t the brightest princess in the box after all.

  She moaned. “But why didn’t you tell me Natasha was your ex-wife? And why would you agree to meet her? Do ... Did you still love her?”

  So many questions with way too many chances for my treacherous tongue to spill the proverbial magic beans. I decided to answer the last question first. “I haven’t loved Natasha in a very long time, and sometimes I wonder if I ever did.” Which was the truth. What I felt for Natasha resembled love at times, but mostly only when we were both naked and covered in sweat.

  “Why did you agree to meet her, then?”

  It was my turn to sigh. Not because I didn’t have an answer. Oh, I had an answer, something about how I tricked Asia into hiring me, a master villain, to find a wannabe villainous murderer in hopes of getting into said princess’s chastity belt, and when my evil ex found out, she tried to blackmail me into joining her in an uprising against the union. Even in my head, it sounded bad, and not something I wanted to share with an already pissed-off princess. “Natasha ...” I paused. “She ...”

  “She what?” Asia’s eyes narrowed.

  “Natasha knew who killed Cinderella.” Asia gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. I quickly continued, “But before she revealed their identity, someone shot an arrow through her heart.”

  “That’s terribly inconvenient.”

  “Rude too,” I added with a grin, which slowly twisted to a frown. “Natasha knew something else too.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep.” I reached for Asia’s hand and pulled her down next to me on the couch. A cloud of dust rose up between us. I sneezed.

  “Bless you,” Asia whispered, her eme
rald eyes staring into mine. How I wanted to take Asia into my arms and forget the last few hours. Forget Natasha’s bloodless face. Forget the stench of death and little piggy parts. But thanks to the union’s curse, my brain failed to comply with my manly parts. Too much was at stake for a little afternoon delight. Stupid brain.

  “Um, RJ? What else did Natasha know?” Asia asked, voice trembling.

  Her face was pale and so beautiful. I smacked myself in the skull. Take that, brain. I winced, my head pounding at double speed. I needed an aspirin. You know what they say, an aspirin a day keeps the brain damage away. I wrapped my hand around Asia’s warm fingers. “She knew about you,” I said.

  She bit her bottom lip and glanced around. “What are you talking about?”

  I raised an eyebrow. It kept inching higher until I thought my brow would break. Higher and higher it rose. But still Asia didn’t say a word. When my eyebrow reached my hairline, I gave up. “Natasha said you’re cursed!”

  “So?”

  “So!?” I dropped her hand and stood to pace. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I tried.” She struggled off the couch and faced me, her cheeks growing red. “This morning, if you remember. We were in the kitchen. I said I’m cursed. You replied ‘fudge, poking, pig, poop.’ I thought we had an understanding.”

  Oh yeah. “We did. I mean we do.”

  “So you can accept me.” She waved at her rounded thighs hidden underneath sweatpants and a super long T-shirt as tears rose in her eyes. “Accept this.”

  “Hell no.”

  The smack that followed wasn’t much of a surprise, but I yelped just the same, raising my forearms to defend against another round of blows. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  She stopped mid-swing. “What exactly did you mean? And you better be really clear.”

  In that moment terror and lust filled my heart. I cleared my throat and lowered my arms. “What I meant to say was,” I grinned at my not-so-ugly but clearly annoyed princess, “I can’t accept the fact that you, such an innocent, sweet maiden, are cursed with such a vile, unfair blight. It is so unjust. I cannot accept that.”