A Curse Unbroken

by Cecy Robson

I rushed to his side only to have Bren block my path. He grabbed me by the throat and wrenched me off the ground. “Going somewhere, my pet?”

  My long hours of combat training were the only thing that saved me. I didn’t think about Bren my buddy. As far as my body was concerned he was the enemy and I was done with being prey. I rammed my claws into his eyes and followed up with a ridge hand across the bridge of his nose.

  He dropped me, but at once I was thrown against the opposite wall by the might of Emme’s force. She cocked her head, annoyed. “You’re not going anywhere,” she rumbled in a deep voice.

  The pressure of Emme’s power squeezed my entire body—crushing my breasts, stomach, and limbs. Martin appeared out of nowhere and snagged her arm in his powerful hold. The moment his skin touched hers, she choked and collapsed, hysterical. The pressure was taken off of me and I landed on the floor.

  Martin stalked away from Emme and toward me with a voracious smile that promised my death. I was his next meal. The entity had found another home.

  Oh. Shit.

  The last time I’d taken on an Elder, things had definitely not gone my way. I rushed to my feet, ready to run like hell, only to have Martin fall on his hands and knees and release possibly the deepest, most inhuman growl I’d ever heard. Every hair on my body stood on end. I seriously thought I’d collapse from the raw hatred in his tone. He shuddered once and looked back at me with his familiar eyes—now wide with disgust.

  A wolf leapt in front of me, baring his teeth inches from my throat and forcing me to look away. I punched him hard in the snout and rolled away, narrowly avoiding his snapping jaws. With a primal scream Agnes torpedoed forward, her long deadly nails and fangs exposed.

  She slammed into the wolf, tackling him in midair when he lunged at me. With ferocious ire she punctured his jugular, biting down into his bone. Her attack, while in defense of me, worked against us. More wolves joined the fight, forcing the vampires to retaliate.

  I ran forward to stop them, only to be stabbed through the thigh by one of Shayna’s knives. I roared and grabbed at my leg, falling to my knees and making myself an easy target. Another blade struck my left clavicle, just missing my throat. Sharp pain burned through my flesh.

  I was still screaming when Aric caught the next knife by the hilt and another dagger a foot from my head. That didn’t make sense—Shayna never missed. It wasn’t until I saw Makawee standing over her that I realized she’d somehow forced the dark being out of my sister.

  Aric whirled around to face me with the knives still in his hand. “Celia—”

  The scent of sex and chocolate collided with that of water crashing over stones. Misha had arrived and he was pissed. He attacked Aric, forcing him into a burning wall and pummeling him in a blur of fists.

  Fire engulfed vampires like a match to rice paper, but Misha was a master. The fire caught on the fabric of his suit but dissolved when it reached his flesh. I tried to stand, only to crumple and dig the knife in my thigh deeper into my femur. I screamed for Misha to stop. He ignored me and continued to unleash his wrath.

  Aric, while injured, was a Herculean Alpha male. It didn’t take long for him to fight back despite his crippling injuries. The strikes and blows tolled like boulders against a cement bell– deep, hard thuds—stone against stone.

  Martin and Makawee charged them. They would have been able to subdue Aric, but not Misha—especially when his remaining vampires left their own brawls to aid their master. Another wolf lunged at me, his open maw revealing his deadly fangs. Koda threw him to the ground by the throat.

  They fought while I yanked the knife lodged in my thigh and used it to gut another charging wolf. Her intestines spilled out like wet noodles. I wasn’t trying to kill her, just subdue her enough to get away. I scrambled up to meet Taran face-to-face. I only wish it was really her.

  I staggered back from the pressure of the magic she’d begun to build when Genevieve bellowed, “Basta, smetti!”

  An eruption of gold-colored magic flung us across the room, extinguishing the flames eating their way through the building. Instead of lessening now that the fire was contained, the chaos only soared.

  Aric and Misha continued to throw down and so did their kind. I tried to stand, only to slip in a pool of my blood. Taran curled up into a fetal position, crying. I forced myself up on my arms and tried to raise my head when my arm was snatched out from under me and I was yanked into the air. I was suspended several feet from the floor by my wrist. The entity had claimed Emme once more.

  She strolled toward me, smiling wickedly through Emme’s sweet face. “I like the way you scream,” it taunted.

  My fingers were crushed, sending an electric charge of pain through me. I should have wailed, roared, something. But I couldn’t. A horrible numbness infected my body. I thought I was going into shock, but then images from my past shoved their way into my consciousness. Myriad versions of my dead parents crawled along the floor naked, reaching for me as blood and pus oozed from their mouths. “Celia, pretty Celia,” my mother cooed.

  Everywhere I turned I saw them, their freak forms urging me to look at them, to see their suffering. The versions of my father wouldn’t speak. They mumbled incoherently, their dead eyes full of tears and their stark white hands batting at my feet. My body shook from my terror and another section of my arm was crushed while my zombie-like parents tugged on my legs, begging me to listen, to see them, to save them.

  I was dying. And I no longer cared. Anything was better than this.

  My vision began to fog when I caught Genevieve limping toward me. She leaned heavily on her long staff to support herself, her presence parting the sea of my dead parents’ forms. Her once beautiful milk-white skin blistered and swelled an angry red and her regal gown was nothing more than burned rags clinging to her body. The being infesting Emme turned to her and laughed. “Do you want to play, too, witch?” it asked.

  Genevieve held nothing but focused fury. Her approach lured the creature’s interest away from me. I should have used the distraction to my advantage, but the continued whimpers and tugs from my parents kept me still and released my grief.

  Emme took a step toward Genevieve, and that was when Genevieve demonstrated why she was Tahoe’s reigning head bitch. She raised the long staff above her head and slammed it into the floor. “Basta, demone. Basta!” she screamed.

  A whirlpool of bright gold swirled from Genevieve’s staff, rippling out like water catching a skipping stone. The magic struck Emme, drawing an ear-piercing scream that crumbled the damaged fragments of wall.

  I fell into Aric’s arms, his body saturated with his and Misha’s blood. The dark silhouette of Emme hovered above us, grumbling in fury. “Death,” it promised, pointing to my heart.

  Aric’s chest rumbled against me. His growl matched those of the wolves and the hissing vampires who formed a protective arch around us. I would have liked to join their anger. I didn’t, choosing to burrow into my mate. With a thundering blast, the entity broke apart, dissipating in the air.

  Aric rushed me outside onto the terrace. The cold air slapped at my skin and made everything hurt more than it already did. “Celia,” Aric said softly. “It’s okay, baby. You’re safe now.”

  You’re not alone, those haunting voices said to me again.

  I jumped, which caused the stabbing pain in my arm to soar. “Shit,” I muttered, bracing it closer to my body.

  “Celia, try not to move, and let Emme heal you,” Aric said.

  I nodded in Emme’s direction, although she seemed apprehensive about drawing near. “It’s all right, Emme. I know it wasn’t you.” My voice was unbelievably hoarse. Pain, torture, and dead parents begging you to help them could really screw with someone.

  Aric’s hold strengthened as Emme realigned my bones and sealed my stab wounds. I thrashed, the agony of her mending almost as bad as the torment the entity inflicted. I slumped against Aric’s chest when she was done, breathing heavily.

  Genevieve loo
med over us, her voice weak. “Aric, is there any way this spirit has obtained a taste of Celia’s blood?” The color drained from his face. “Aric,” she insisted. “This is important. I need to know.”

  He let out a pained breath. “It bit her when it was first inside of me.”

  The only sound I could hear was that of my racing heart, trying to recover from the speed at which my sister healed me. Everyone waited in deafening silence for Genevieve to speak. “By ingesting her blood this dark creature has acquired a portion of Celia’s soul. With it, he can possess anyone she’s connected to—you, her sisters, and anyone in your Pack. He knows all her fears and all her secrets.” She sighed. “If he can’t kill her using one of you, he’ll drive her insane and force her to kill herself.”

  I thought about what Genevieve said. The way I was feeling…it didn’t seem like insanity was too far away.

  She edged away when Aric unleashed a deadly growl. “He won’t kill her. I’ll stop him.”

  Makawee stepped forward. “I’m not sure if you can, Aric,” she said quietly. “Anyone with a soul who is connected to Celia can be used as a conduit. As your mate, the Pack is linked to her as well.”

  “But I’m strong enough to fight it—”

  “As are Makawee and I,” Martin interrupted. “But you’ve seen how fast that thing moves. In the time it takes us to force him from one body he moves to another vessel and continues to go after Celia. We succeeded this time, next time we may not be as fortunate.”

  Aric trembled against me, but it wasn’t from fear. My wolf was seconds from exploding with rage.

  You’re not alone, the voices called out again.

  From the corner of my eye, I caught a trickle of light. “Aric, put me down please,” I whispered.

  Aric reluctantly complied. I could sense his hesitation to release me and his urgency to ensure my safety. Yet I couldn’t remain at his side just then. I walked to where Shah had perched himself on the ledge of the stacked-stone terrace, a strange dullness lifting from me and my ears filling with an old Irish lullaby the closer I drew: Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral. Too-ra-loo-ra-li. The song intensified in volume, giving me a sense of clarity I hadn’t known I’d been missing. My eyes widened when I realized what had happened. I whipped around. “It’s Tura—the shape-shifter. He’s the one behind all this.”

  Chapter 25

  Everyone who’d been so enraptured by Shah’s sudden presence ignored him to focus fully on me. “What do you mean, it’s Tura?” Delilah was clearly already starting to doubt my sanity. “His body lay at Aric’s feet, shug.”

  “His body lay there.” I faced Aric. “But that doesn’t mean he was dead.”

  Shayna gripped the hilt of her dagger as if anticipating Tura would suddenly appear. “I thought those things gave up their souls in exchange for the power to take on any form. If his shell remained empty, and it didn’t have a soul, wouldn’t that make him dead?”

  Everything seemed to make sense all at once, yet it did nothing to settle my fears. My voice shook. “He does possess the power to take on any form. That’s why I think the form he took was Aric’s.”

  I was hoping everyone would dispute my claim—or at the very least call me nuts. Hell, after what I’d been through, they owed me as much. But their tightening faces told me I was onto something. So did the invisible nudge Shah gave me. Makawee strolled in his direction, but Shah vanished and materialized in my hand when Shah felt she’d stepped close enough.

  Makawee tilted her chin and folded her hands over her belly. “What else does he tell you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Shah is speaking to you, Celia,” Martin said. “In his own way he’s communicating. Can you feel it?” he questioned Aric.

  Aric nodded and lowered his head. He’d felt Shah’s power as well, but appeared to be occupied reaching his own conclusion. “When Tura lunged at Celia, I felt something stab me in the heart. I dismissed it as the brunt of the impact. Now, I’m not so sure.” Aric narrowed his eyes at Misha when he suddenly appeared at my side and pulled me toward the rear of the terrace and away from him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled.

  A drum of power emanated from Martin’s clasp to Aric’s shoulder. But Martin might as well have been patting his head for all the effect it had on Aric. Martin’s eyes widened. Aric brushed aside his über-powerful Elder’s mojo like a pesky bug.

  Aric propelled himself toward me. The power of the Pack slammed in our faces and the howl of wolves echoed in all directions. It took Aric’s Warriors and the Elders’ combined power to hold him back. My grip to Shah tightened as Misha’s vampires created a barrier between us.

  “Do you not hear yourself, mutt?” Misha hissed. “If Tura did somehow take over your form, he’s been leaching your power and invading your Pack long before you tasted her blood.” His gaze cut to me. “Celia’s blood only sealed the connection and made it that much easier for Tura to control you.”

  Nausea churned my stomach. “My sisters’ blood was in my system from the transfusion.” I met their blanching faces before my attention fell to Aric’s horrified expression. “Misha’s right—if anything we gave him better access. That’s why you were so agreeable to have me receive Shayna’s blood—it wasn’t what you wanted, it’s what Tura needed to solidify his link.”

  Another nudge from Shah told me I was right. Jesus, that’s the reason Aric had been so tired, confused, angry, and…“Shifters feed off of pain, fear, and insecurity don’t they?”

  Makawee’s lips had formed into a firm line. “Yes. Celia…the day we spoke in my quarters, you weren’t quite yourself.”

  I thought about my heightened jealousy of and vicious response to those weres who had wanted to seduce Aric—and why he’d started to question my love for him—and why he’d been so different. I also remembered the voices turning me against Makawee and inciting my paranoia. The other night, in the shower following my attack at work, it wasn’t Aric who was aroused. It was Tura. My suffering had given him some kind of perverse pleasure.

  My eyes locked with Aric, and in his stare, I knew he realized what I did. All this time, it had been Tura causing the problems between us. That bastard had infected our sacred connection and the love that bonded us.

  “Have you been confused, Celia?” Makawee asked. “Or forgetful perchance?”

  “Both,” Aric answered for me. His anger was so severe his body involuntarily tightened as if ready to attack. “And so have I.”

  “I have, too,” Emme admitted quietly. “Since I went to Malaysia.”

  “Shit,” Taran muttered. “Same here.”

  “Me, too. Since going there, I mean,” Shayna said.

  “I felt it, too,” Martin agreed.

  It was his confession that frightened me the most. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Makawee questioned.

  “Every time I began to sense something unusual, I would easily dismiss it.” Martin squared his jaw. “Or it seemed Tura would dismiss it for me.”

  Aric stared off to the distant mountains. “Was it an ache in your chest that didn’t seem to belong?”

  The look of dread we all shared told him he was dead-on. For as strong and heartless as this shifter was, he knew to cover his tracks by muddling and manipulating our thoughts and memories. I felt so stupid, but as the tension around me soared, I knew I wasn’t alone.

  Some days simply sucked beyond reason.

  “It makes sense,” Gemini growled. “Weeks had passed since the shifter attack, giving Tura time to feed off your power and grow stronger. It also gave him an opportunity to learn your strengths and weaknesses, and to test your connections to those you’re linked to by taking turns invading their bodies.” He rubbed his goatee irritably. “As Misha suggests, the blood he stole from Celia was the catalyst to solidify his control.”

  It must have taken a lot for Gemini to agree with Misha, but there was no time to be petty. My head throbbed when I clutched Shah closer to me. “He wants Shah
.” I scoffed when everyone simply stared. “That’s why Shah has refused to stay in Makawee’s stronghold. He knew Tura could invade any one of you and become his new holder.”

  Aric muttered a curse, and ran a hand through his hair. Around me, no one seemed able to keep still. There was something more to Tura’s presence that seemed to rile them. I’d learned enough not-so-fun facts for the day. Yet it seemed there was more crappiness to be had. “Aric, what’s happening?”

  “There’s something you should know that could explain Tura’s yearning to destroy you,” he said, the anger surrounding him rising. “The shifter you killed several months ago was known as Cara, ‘the face.’ She was one of the deadliest shifters…and Tura’s mate.”

  “Of course she was Tura’s mate,” I said, sensing my bullshit meter reach its limit. “Of course.”

  “Celia—”

  “This is ridiculous!” I screamed, cutting Aric off. “How many other ways can one person get completely screwed? The goddamn shifter has possessed you and everyone I love—revenge for his mate, I presume—even though that crazy bitch of his came after me first.” The vamps took a collective step back, recognizing I’d completely lost my shit. “Can’t for once one of these bastard bad guys cut me a break? Can’t for once I just be safe?”

  I didn’t really expect anyone to answer, but I needed to unleash then. It was either that or cry, and I was done with that.

  The thing was, I understood what it meant to be mated, and as a result understood Tura’s drive. Had anyone harmed Aric, I’d make them suffer, too. Except knowing this didn’t offer one shred of comfort; it only made me fear what was to come.

  Possession by shifter, no means to stop him, and no means to know when he’d strike next. Damn. Seriously damn.

  “Celia,” Aric said, his deep timbre and ire snagging my attention. “It doesn’t matter who he is. I’ll make sure he’s reunited with his mate soon enough.”