Cursed

by Amanda Steiger

  She wondered how he could speak those words without a hint of shame. Her disgust flooded back. “Then how can you claim to care for me?” she demanded.

  “There are things about me you don’t know,” he said. “For now, that is all I will say. This isn’t the time for lengthy explanations. Finish your stew.”

  She hesitated, then dipped the spoon back into the bowl and resumed eating. She surprised herself by finishing it within minutes. She hadn’t realized just how famished she was. Setting the bowl aside, she leaned back, her eyelids growing heavy. “Suddenly I’m so sleepy,” she murmured.

  “Rest. Don’t fight it.”

  She looked up at him. “You didn’t drug the stew, did you?” There was a hint of real fear in her voice.

  “Your opinion of me must truly be low. No, I did not drug you, Jessica. You’re simply tired. Sleep. You will be safe here, I promise you.”

  Jessica surrendered, letting her eyes slip shut. Sleep claimed her within moments.

  Chapter Four

  Night. Jessica was running through the forest, branches scratching at her bare arms and face. Behind her, Vincent’s mad laughter echoed. He was gaining on her. There was no way she would be able to outrun him. She had no choice but to fight. Panting, Jessica whirled around and stood, fingers arched like claws. Her dress was torn and bloody, her feet aching, but the beast roared to life within her. Long, curved claws sprouted from her fingertips, and her teeth grew into fangs.

  Vincent burst into the clearing, grinning madly. He was in his hybrid shape, a towering, naked man-fox, his muscled form bristling with reddish-brown fur, his huge phallus dark and erect. His yellow eyes gleamed with crazed hunger. He licked his lips and took a step closer. “What a pretty morsel,” he said. His voice was thick and garbled, half a purr and half a growl. A ribbon of drool hung from his lower lip, shining in the moonlight. “There’s nothing I love more than the sight of a proud bitch trembling in fear.” He took another step closer. Leaves crunched under his clawed toes.

  “Come no closer!” cried Jessica. “I’ll kill you if I have to.”

  Vincent threw back his head and cackled like a hyena. “You? Kill me?”

  “I mean it!”

  “Then try,” he hissed.

  Jessica flowed into wolf form and growled, the fur on her back rising. She leapt, jaws aimed for his throat. At the same moment, Vincent lunged at her, his jaws gaping. She saw his throat, red and gleaming with saliva, his teeth, sharp and white….

  ———

  Jessica woke with a strangled gasp. She looked around, her eyes wide and wild, her heart thundering in her chest.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and she almost shrieked, managing to swallow the sound at the last moment and save herself a great indignity. It was only Richard, of course. She looked up at him, tense. “You startled me!”

  “I apologize,” he said. “I heard your cries. You were having a nightmare.”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, it was … well, it’s not important.” She twisted a few strands of hair around her fingers, then quickly let her hand drop to her side. It was an old, girlish habit she had broken herself of years ago, but it still occasionally surfaced when she was feeling especially uncertain. She didn’t like Richard seeing her in such a vulnerable state.

  When she looked up, however, she saw only concern in his yellow-gold eyes. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

  She turned away. It would be easy, all too easy, to succumb to that gentle voice. She wondered if this was just another ploy of his. But maybe she was being unfair to him?

  Maybe she had really misunderstood him, all this time? “No,” she said softly. “Thank you. I’ll be all right.” She laid her head on the pillow, facing away from him.

  Richard drew the covers over her. Quietly, he left the room.

  Jessica lay awake for a long time, staring at the wall. The horror of the nightmare was still fresh in her mind, making her reluctant to surrender to sleep, but fatigue slowly weighed down her eyelids, and she felt herself carried away by gentle currents into the darkness.

  The last thing she thought of, before drifting off, was Richard’s face.

  There were no more dreams that night.

  ———

  Jessica woke feeling refreshed. She sat up, stretching, and yawned. Though the room had no windows, she sensed it was morning. Pushing aside the covers, she slid out of bed and stood, brushing a few strands of hair from her face.

  A fresh set of clothes had been draped over the chair nearby. She changed quickly into the loose-fitting jeans and white blouse. Where Richard had gotten the clothes or how he’d known her size was something she didn’t care to guess. He even knows my preferences, she thought. Jessica usually preferred loose, simple, comfortable garments. The cotton shirt was cool and soft against her body.

  Barefoot, she left the bedroom and walked down the hall, looking around. A few turns took her to the large entrance hall where Richard had first brought her. He was there, sitting in the large, fur-upholstered chair by the hearth, dressed in a long-sleeved silk shirt with an open collar, dark slacks, and dark slippers.

  “Do you ever wear casual clothes?” she asked. “You look as if you’re dressed for a dinner party.”

  He smiled. “These are my pajamas. Would you like some coffee?”

  “You have a coffee-maker?”

  “Of course. I don’t avoid modern conveniences completely, you know. I just don’t believe in becoming dependent on them.”

  “Then yes, I would like some coffee.” After a moment, she added, “Thank you.”

  He rose. “Wait here,” he said. “Have a seat, if you like.” He walked out of the room with his usual oiled, graceful stride, the stride of a stalking cat.

  It occurred to her that in all her years of knowing him, she had never seen Richard’s animal form. She had always assumed he was feline, perhaps a jaguar or a puma, but she had never asked him. Unlike many shifters, he chose to spend most of his time in human form. She wondered why.

  Jessica sat down in the huge armchair. It was warm, and still smelled faintly of Richard, a warm, clean, male smell.

  He returned carrying a white mug filled with steaming coffee. “You take it black, do you not?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, surprised. “How do you know?”

  “Well, you have been working for me for quite awhile, after all. I would have to be very unobservant not to have learned some things about you.” He handed her the mug.

  She took it from him, blew the steam away, and sipped it.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Good,” she said. “Much better than I did last night, anyway.” She knew, however, that the sense of well-being would not last. The pain awaited her. It was always just around the corner, lurking, like some dark, shadowy beast waiting to ambush her when she least expected it, and each wave was worst than the last. How long, she wondered, before it grew so intense that it rendered her unconscious, and then…?

  She pushed the thoughts firmly from her mind. She would not allow herself to dwell on her fear. Fear would paralyze her. She needed to act, or she truly was doomed.

  She rubbed her forehead with two fingertips and took another sip of her coffee, hoping the warmth would chase away some of the coldness inside her, the memory of Victor’s voice, so filled with hate.

  She heard Richard moving, felt him behind her. He touched her shoulder lightly, then her cheek, his fingertips spots of warmth against her cool skin. She closed her eyes. She should push his hand away, she knew. She shouldn’t encourage him. But she was too tired to fight him right now. She wanted warmth, touch, reassurance. She wanted someone to lean on. It bothered her that Richard could make her feel that longing, but maybe she was just so lonely that she would take it from anyone.

  Yet she knew that wasn’t true. She had denied herself comfort many times, denied herself the chance to get close to someone, fearing the consequences, fearing betrayal. She had pushe
d others away so many times. Most wolf shifters chose to live in packs, like their wild brethren, but Jessica had always been alone, telling herself it was because she preferred the independence. But the truth was she didn’t dare let anyone into her heart.

  How had he slipped past her defenses? How had he weakened her like this?

  “You don’t have to face this alone, Jessica,” Richard said quietly. His hand cupped her face, his palm warm and rough against her cheek.

  She felt tears welling in her eyes, and quickly closed them, taking a deep breath.

  “Richard….”

  “Let me help you,” he said. “You’ve been fighting your own demons for so long. For once, let someone else fight them for you.”

  She raised her chin to look him in the eye. “I don’t need someone to protect me,” she said.

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for most of my life.”

  “I know. I am well aware of your strength.” His thumb lightly touched her lower lip. She flushed, and told herself that it was anger at his impudence. “But you are not invincible,” he said. “Everyone needs protection sometimes. And not just protection, but warmth, intimacy. The very things you deny yourself time and again.”

  His eyes were warm, almost molten, as he looked into hers, his thumb still resting against her full lower lip, a warm, steady pressure. Slowly, he began to stroke her lip, the hard, calloused pad moving slowly back and forth across her soft flesh. Her breath caught in her throat at the gentle friction of his skin against hers. Heat pooled in her middle, and she pressed her thighs together. Wetness tickled her folds.

  She closed her eyes as his thumb trailed lower, tracing the curve of her small chin, then finding the pulse in her throat. She tried to speak, to tell him to stop, but no words would emerge. She couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Not this time. Her pulse fluttered beneath his thumb like a trapped butterfly.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, and his voice was soft and husky with emotion. It seemed so real. Did she dare to believe that it was real? “So beautiful and so alone. You act so strong, try to hide your true needs from the world. Why? Who has hurt you, Jessica?”

  She drew in her breath slowly, wondering how much she dared reveal. “It’s a long story,” she said softly. She kept her eyes closed, knowing how easily Richard could read her emotions in them. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

  “I think it matters. It’s caused you to shut yourself away from the world. Not just men, but everyone.” She felt him lean closer. “Open your eyes, Jessica.”

  The command was iron wrapped in velvet. Slowly, almost involuntarily, her lids lifted.

  His yellow eyes stared into hers. They seemed to penetrate deep into her mind, bypassing her defenses with ease, seeing her naked soul, her fears and desires. Her tongue crept out to wet her lips. “Richard….” Even shaping his name with her lips felt somehow intimate, as if she were touching a part of him.

  His fingers pressed lightly against the underside of her chin, lifting it. She could feel their shape against her skin, burning into her, like a painless brand. “You want to be touched,” he said softly.

  “Yes,” she whispered. The word left her without her permission. It rose from somewhere deep within her, as if it had been waiting to escape. “God help me, I do want it, but….”

  She trailed off, unwilling to say the words out loud, to admit that she was afraid. Yet somehow, she felt that he knew.

  He took the cup of coffee from her trembling hand and set it aside. He loomed over her, dark and broad-shouldered, yet it wasn’t his physical size or strength that frightened her, but the power he held over her heart--a power she had never intended to give him. His eyes were warm, infinitely gentle, yet at the same time, they held her as firmly as a physical grip. His fingers brushed her cheek again. He leaned closer, and his mouth found hers. Her lips quivered slightly as his pressed against them, gently at first, then firmly. His hand moved to her wrist, fingers closing around it. Those two points of contact--the pressure of his hand on her wrist, and his lips against hers--tingled throughout her entire body. She all but melted into the armchair. A soft, plaintive moan escaped her.

  Somewhere deep within, she felt exasperated at her own reaction. She was no silly, naïve girl, so why was she letting herself melt into a puddle over a single kiss? Yet she couldn’t ignore her body’s reaction.

  Richard pulled back, looking into her eyes. His free hand settled on her thigh. She felt its shape through her jeans. Her lashes fluttered as she panted softly. Her nipples had hardened to aching peaks. She wanted his hand between her legs. The desire, the need, was unbearably sharp, a throbbing point of heat. The intensity of it frightened her.

  “Richard,” she whispered. “Don’t.” It took all her strength just to force that simple word from her mouth.

  He met her eyes. “You don’t want this?” he asked softly.

  Her teeth clenched. To say no would be a lie. She wanted it more than she could ever remember wanting anything--or at least, her body did. But her mind whirled in protest, cried out that it was happening too fast. “I can’t,” she said. “Not now. This is happening too quickly.” She pushed a lock of loose hair from her face and looked up at him, still breathing hard, her eyes begging him to understand.

  His hand left her thigh, and she felt a rush of relief, accompanied incongruously with a sharp pang of regret.

  Richard looked away so that a curtain of dark, silk-thin hair fell across his face, hiding his eyes. “We are shifters, Jessica,” he said quietly. “We need the touch of our own kind, even more than humans do. It is not good for you to deny your body what it clearly needs.”

  She frowned, her rational mind reasserting itself, now that he wasn’t distracting her with those all too knowing hands. “Interesting logic,” she said. “You make it sound as if you’re doing something selfless for me. Sex isn’t a need, Richard, and we both know that that’s what this is really about. That’s where it’s bound to lead us.”

  “You think sex is not a need?” he asked. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

  She sat up straighter. “Of course it isn’t. I’ve lived without it for quite awhile, and I’m healthy enough,” she said sharply.

  “There are different types of needs,” said Richard. “One can exist without touch, without pleasure, but it takes its toll. Especially for us. We are of the animal world as well as the human, remember. We have human intelligence, but our instincts still rule us. You know as well as I do that our needs can be very insistent, almost overwhelming.”

  She drew in her breath and closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding. His voice was deep, soft, convincing. It seemed to caress her physically, like silk trailing across her skin. When she met his eyes, she felt the power behind them. Was he manipulating her thoughts? She knew how powerful he was, how skilled. He could probably do it. She touched her temple lightly and averted her eyes.

  “I am not within your mind right now, Jessica. What do I have to say or do to make you trust that I would never use my power on you for such a sordid purpose?”

  “If you’re not,” she said, “how did you know what I was thinking about?”

  “Well, you are rather easy to read, my dear.”

  She sat up straighter. “I am not!”

  A slight smile curved his lips. “Not to most people, perhaps, but I have watched you for a long time. I’ve learned to read your eyes, your face, your body. I never need to use my powers with you.” He leaned closer. The hint of teasing had vanished from his face. “We will face Victor very soon,” he said, “and that will be dangerous. Will you not allow yourself some pleasure and release before you face him? I am a very skilled lover. I can make your body sing in ways you’ve never imagined.”

  She almost laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth to hide a smile as she shook her head.

  There was not a modest bone in his body. “You’re very persistent,” she said. “I’ve told you, Richard, I can’t share my body without sha
ring my heart, as well. Perhaps as a male, you can’t fully understand this, but it is very intimate to allow someone else inside your body.”

  He brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead and leaned even closer, until his lips almost brushed her ear. “We don’t have to join that way yet, if you’d rather not,” he said.

  “There are other ways I can give you pleasure.”

  His breath was warm against her ear, her neck. She felt her resolve beginning to weaken, felt a sweet melting sensation within her, a spreading warmth. She wondered again if he could be using his power on her, making her feel these things, but she knew in her heart that he wasn’t. It didn’t feel like a lie, like a trick, though it might have been easier in some ways to believe that it was. The feelings rose up from somewhere deep within her, from a long-buried need to abandon herself to pleasure. Just once, just for a little while, she wanted to forget her fears, to relax her guards and simply feel. She wet her lips and slipped a hand around the back of his neck. “I’m a fool,” she whispered.

  His arms surrounded her, lifting her.

  “My legs still work,” she protested.

  He only smiled as he carried her to the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. For a moment, he simply looked down at her, his eyes moving over her face, her breasts, lingering on the juncture between her thighs. Heat rose into her cheeks. Just the way he was looking at her felt so intimate, as if his gaze was a tangible thing, roaming gently over that sensitive flesh.

  “Relax,” he said softly.

  Jessica wet her lips again. How could she relax when her whole body was on fire? “I’ll try,” she said.

  Chapter Five

  She had never looked so beautiful.

  Her hair was fanned out on the pillow, shining softly, her cheeks flushed, her full, soft lips parted. The musky, warm spice of arousal drifted from her pores, but her desire would have been obvious to him even without his keen sense of smell. Her hard nipples thrust against the thin fabric of her blouse, and her eyes were soft and half-lidded, pools of liquid amber-gold.