Cursed: The Girl Who Shook the Earth

by E. C. Farrell

  Mom clears her throat, then pulls a small, leather notebook from her purse. “After Beck, um, your dad disappeared, a month or so before you were born, I packed up everything that reminded me of him, and stored it in the attic. In almost every move, I’ve gotten rid of all but one box, and a few months ago, I finally decided to open it.”

  She hands it to me and — still half numb from shock — I flip it open with the ribbon bookmark. My dad’s last entry. A note addressed to Mom.

  Dear Caroline,

  I’ve tried for too long to find the right way to tell you the truth about me, but I admit I’ve been a coward. It doesn’t help that our laws in the human world restrict who we’re allowed to share our secrets with. I’m writing this now to find the right words in hopes that I’ll soon get the guts to admit to you what I am.

  As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the above, I’m not human, at least not in the same way you are. I come from a completely different plane all together. One of magic and creatures you’ve probably only read in fairytales or seen in movies. I’m what they call a high fae—

  My jaw goes slack as it drops open and I look up at Ash. “What’s a high fae?”

  Ash’s eyes bug almost comically. “Is that what your dad is? Because they’re unbelievably powerful. For some context, Finn’s your normal, everyday fae. Minimal magic. A high, or arch fae, is really rare, and again, is stupid strong. Like, doomsday strong. If whoever took him or...” He turns to Mom. “I know it’s been a long time, but do you remember anything about the group that attacked you? Specifically the ones with fangs?”

  “It was so long ago,” Mom says, dipping her tea bag in her mug with a shaking hand. “And very dark. Though, Beck did mention something about a...a vampire following him. I can’t remember his name, or at least the name he gave Beck. It’s a few pages before his letter, Case.”

  I flip back, not even having to ask just how far I need to go because a name jumps out almost immediately. Choking on terror, I resist the desperate urge to throw the journal across the room, and instead set it on the table.

  Unable to find my voice, I point at the name in the middle of a paragraph without reading any of the other words around it: Aiden Masera.

  20.

  IF THE SHOCK FROM BEFORE nearly knocked me out of my chair, this one sends tremors down through my shoes and into the floor. Glasses and mugs and silverware clank around me, a few of the patrons gasp, and Ash reaches out to squeeze my hand. To Mom’s credit, she doesn’t react at all. This, and the color draining out of Ash’s face, resets my brain fast.

  Gulping down a deep breath, I take control of my magic, and shove it back into its cage. “It makes sense,” I say quietly. “If Masera’ll do anything for power, then of course he’d go after a high fae if he found one. Can you think of what he might have been doing with him for 18 years? With Dad? Surely he wouldn’t have...killed him. Would he?”

  Ash runs a shaking hand over his jaw, swearing under his breath before finally responding. “I doubt it. High fae rarely come to this plane, so if he got his hands on one, there’s no way he’d give up that power by killing him. We may need to go talk to Finn again. He could have some more answers.”

  Nodding, I roll my shoulders, then look back at Mom. None of this really changes the way I’ve seen her for so long. Not dramatically anyway. She’s still the victim of trauma she doesn’t understand from a world she didn’t know existed until now. This doesn’t excuse the things she did to me that ultimately led to the state taking me away from her, but it does help me understand a little better.

  We won’t be spending Thanksgiving or Christmas together any time soon, but it is a good step.

  I set my now empty coffee cup on the table and rest my elbows on either side of it. “Thank you. I know this has probably been super tough to deal with.”

  Mom wrinkles her nose as red flushes the tip and pain widens her eyes. “I’m not sure I’ve actually dealt with any of it, but at the very least, I hope this helps you figure things out, and maybe even find your dad.”

  “You don’t have a picture of him, do you?” I ask. “We know someone who might’ve seen him.”

  I have no idea if Jeremy would have interacted with other prisoners, but it’s definitely worth having him look.

  With the tips of her immaculate fingernails, Mom flips the pages of the journal to the very front where, taped to the cover, is a photograph of a much younger version of her and a copper-haired man with sharp, almost elvish features. Even if I didn’t know he was fae, his otherworldly appearance would have been jarring. His ears aren’t pointed, but my guess is that he’s hiding them with a charm.

  “Take it. I know you can do more with it than I can.”

  Shoulders tight with the discomfort of not quite knowing how to end things, I nod, then stand. “Thank you. I’ll keep you updated, promise.”

  We don’t hug, we don’t even shake hands, but at bare minimum, we didn’t come to blows or name-calling either, so I count it as a success. And as Ash and I walk back out to the car, a slight weight has shifted off my back.

  I let out a loud sigh when we slide back into the purple monstrosity. “I definitely didn’t expect that.”

  Ash cranks the engine but keeps us in park as he peers at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re half high fae. That’s...” He threads his fingers through his hair and then lets them drop. “You’re a lot more powerful than we originally thought. Add to that the extra spell and you’re basically a magical arsenal. My dad’s involvement doesn’t surprise me at all. We’ll have to be really careful. If he finds out you have both your dad’s power and the effects of whatever spell one of his witches hit you with, he’ll definitely come for you. And the Tribunal? I don’t even know what they’d do.”

  “Would they still want to lock me away?” I shiver.

  “They might want to send you to the fae realm.”

  All the air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and again, I lose my ability to word. As if getting locked away in some unknown prison didn’t freak me out enough, now there’s the possibility they might send me to a world I know nothing about. Cool, cool, cool, cool.

  Ash turns a little more in his seat to face me better. “Let’s try to find your dad before drowning in existential despair, huh?”

  Laughter opens up my airway again so I can breathe. “One crisis at a time, huh? So, Finn?”

  “Finn.” Ash pulls his cell out of his back pocket. “After I call The Mercury Room. I can have Kia ask Jeremy if Masera said anything about someone like your dad at the compound. Just to get him thinking about it until we can show him the picture.”

  We have to leave a voicemail — understandable considering it’s starting to get close to the lunch rush — then drive back into Houston. On the sidewalk in front of Finn’s house, Ash and I freeze almost at the exact same time. His door stands open barely a crack, and though there’s no blood trail like at Elaxi’s, the wood around the lock sticks out at odd angles, clearly broken.

  Ash and I exchange a look, then both creep slowly up the porch steps. We pause at the door to listen. After a few minutes of hearing nothing, I lift my brows at Ash, whose senses are much more sensitive than mine. He squeezes his eyes shut, then shakes his head.

  “Someone inside is breathing,” he says quietly. “It’s labored. Finn might be injured.”

  “Can you...” I wrinkle my nose, “smell anything?”

  Gripping the door frame, knuckles white, Ash draws in a slow breath. “No blood,” he says, muscles relaxing a little. “But I definitely smell fae. I’ll go in first. You okay with coming up behind me? Or would you rather keep watch? Don’t want you to have to call on any ancient birds again.” He grins a little weakly.

  I rub the spot on my back where the puckwudgie’s arrow pierced me, then fix my face into an expression of calm and give him a double thumbs up. “Right behind you.”

  With a final look over his shoulder at the street, Ash slips inside, graceful and silent, th
e muscles in his arms and shoulders taut. When he’s halfway down the hall, I crack each knuckle with a thumb, then follow. My ears strain for sound. Traffic creates white noise interrupted only by the occasional blast of someone’s music. Heavy on the base.

  When Ash reaches the living room, he wheels back, barely out of the way of a black knife. I let out a yelp of surprise. He blocks a second blow as Yaritza lunges forward, swiping with her blade again. Catching her arm, Ash aims a knee at her stomach, but she evaporates before the blow hits.

  I press my back to the wall, looking around wildly for the water spirit. When she reappears right behind Ash, I slam my heel into the floor, shaking it violently so she stumbles sideways. The whole house shivers as the tremors continue to pour out of me. Grunting, I rein them back into my body, gasping with the effort.

  Ash knocks Yaritza’s wrist into the door frame. The wood cracks on impact. The knife clatters to the ground. Yaritza growls and levels a kick at Ash’s gut. Again, she evaporates, popping into existence and driving a second dagger straight into Ash’s back with a loud crack.

  His legs go completely slack and he drops with a cry of pain. I hear myself scream, full of rage. I throw an arm out in Yaritza’s direction without thinking. The very air vibrates with so much power it shoves her straight out of the hall.

  Warm liquid rolls from my nose as again, I have to strain to retract my magical attack. Tucked safely away in my body once again, I scramble to Ash, crouching between him and the bounty hunter. My heart pounds so loud I barely hear her manic cackle. I hold up a hand in hope of fending her off if she attacks again. With my other, I touch Ash’s shoulder, knowing I need to stop the bleeding, but afraid to hurt him even more.

  Yaritza drags Finn out from behind the couch, presses her gory knife to his throat, and grins. The fae’s head lolls to one side. An ugly red welt swells on one of his temples and around his left eye. Though mostly limp, he slides half-open eyes to me as his lips move faintly and without sound.

  I sit frozen as his stool jerks up from the ground, flying toward Yaritza. She knocks it off course with a free hand, then grips Finn’s hair, pulling his head back to better expose his throat to her weapon. That funny, high pitched laugh flutters out of his mouth.

  “Tricksy water spirit,” he says in a croak. “Shrewd, though working with Masera? Perhaps not.”

  Yaritza flicks her blade, drawing a small cut across Finn’s neck. Even the small amount of strength keeping him on his feet seeps out and he slumps.

  “This one never shuts up, does he?” Yaritza shakes out her dark hair, then turns a wicked smile on me. “Masera was right. You are powerful. Maybe next time the two of us can play a little more, but right now, I have places to be and a water spirit to collect.”

  With that, she disappears a third time, taking Finn with her and leaving me gasping in the hallway of his darkened wreck of a home.

  THE SECOND SHE’S GONE, I whip around to face Ash. Blood pours from the wound on his back and flecks his pale skin. His eyes flutter slightly, but when I say his name, he doesn’t respond. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of a towel on the counter in what looks like the kitchen. I grab it and press it against his wound, then pull out my cell.

  My call to Kia goes straight to voicemail.

  Elaxi doesn’t answer.

  Nothing from Max either.

  Teeth chattering as fear spikes the power inside me, I try to sort through what I should do. Should I call an ambulance? Or would that just make things way worse for Ash? Would they recognize something off about him?

  Black blood would definitely tip them off that he’s not so normal. Would the very act of sending him to the ER break their laws? Is it even necessary to get him medical attention? He does heal pretty fast after all. But he did say he could bleed out.

  And he would heal a lot faster with blood.

  I swallow a terrified sob, remembering his reaction to my offer after the howler attacked. If Ash doesn’t want to feed on human blood, I don’t want to force it on him, especially if it only speeds up his already quick healing. But what if he’s dying? What if he is bleeding out too fast?

  Maybe I can carry him to the car. Hands shaking, I refold quickly soaking wash cloth and shove that dumb idea aside. Even if I could shoulder his weight, doing that might hurt him even worse, cause him to lose more blood. Breath shallow, I try calling The Mercury Room main line. Cold dread hardens in my gut when no one answers. Something is very wrong.

  Yaritza said she had a water spirit to collect. Does she mean Max? She can’t get inside the restaurant, but she’s also smart. What if she has another plan that involves some kind of trade off for Finn with another bounty hunter?

  Tears blur my vision and my head spins. “Wake up, Ash. Please.”

  Nothing.

  I scream out with my mind for help. If the caladrius can hear me, maybe it will come, heal Ash before I have to force feed him my blood without asking permission. Silence answers my desperation.

  Wiping my nose on a sleeve, I grit my still chattering teeth. Sitting here much longer isn’t an option. I can’t just hope he’s not going to bleed to death while I wait for someone at The Mercury Room to get back to me. Suppressing another sob, I grab a knife from the kitchen, and make a very small horizontal cut on my forearm.

  “I’m so sorry, Ash.” I shift him as much as I dare and prop his head on my knees to get a better angle, then press my wrist to his lips. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  At first, he doesn’t move. Emotion builds in my throat. The earth quakes with magic I can’t pull back in. A book falls off one of Finn’s shelves. I waited too long, he’s going to die, and it’s all my fault. Then pain lances across my skin. I flinch.

  Though the sharp prick never fades, a pleasant warmth rolls through my muscles, flooding my brain. I sway, then press a hand into the floor to keep upright. The rumblings calm as I float on a happy little cloud of bliss.

  Words thread into my mind like gentle fingers. I lean into them until they become clear. Case?

  I’m so sorry, Ash, I respond, assuming he can hear me in the same way I can hear him. I couldn’t get a hold of anybody and I thought you were dying, and I know you don’t like drinking human blood, but I couldn’t let you die.

  Ash brushes my arm weakly. Finn and Yaritza?

  A sob wrenches my chest. She took him. I’m sorry. I know I’ve screwed everything up. I bend my head, crying into his shoulder as I continue to try and hold him steady.

  Gently, Ash grips my wrist and pulls it away from his lips, then twists around slowly to face me. Blood stains his mouth. His pupils are now so large they crowd out the blue, but some of the color has returned to his face. He scoots back an inch or so to rest against the wall, then pulls me against his chest.

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumble into his shirt. “I tried to think of another way. I really did.”

  “I know. I know. None of this was your fault,” Ash says, words slightly slurred.

  He slides his tongue across the cut on my wrist. A new rush of warmth runs down my forearm, and the cut closes up without even the memory of pain. Tears still rolling down my cheeks, I curl into a little ball, shame burning through me right along with the still-present waves of pleasant heat.

  I sniff. “I should start packing blood bags if we’re going to keep running into bounty hunters and murderous paranormal creatures.”

  Ash strokes my hair. “I should’ve thought of that.” He adjusts his position but doesn’t move to get up. “You said no one answered at The Mercury Room?”

  “Not even the main line. And Yaritza mentioned something about collecting a water spirit. I know she can’t get inside, but if Max goes to take out the trash or...I don’t know. I’m really worried.”

  Ash curses and runs a hand over his face. “We need to get back there, but right now neither of us should try to drive.”

  “How’s your back?”

  “Still pretty messed up, but I won’t be bleeding o
ut, thanks to you.”

  In spite of his insistence that this isn’t my fault, guilt camps out and makes itself at home in my chest. The possibility that Ash is only saying everything is fine because we have bigger problems to deal with chokes me. But right now, I have to at least try to take it at face value. Stressing about whether or not Ash is mad at me for saving his life in a way that might compromise his morals isn’t going to help us stop his dad.

  My cell buzzes on the floor. When I see Kia’s name flashing across the screen, I grab it and hit the speaker. “Kia, is—

  “He’s taken them,” Kia says in a harsh croak. “Masera took Jeremy and Max.”

  21.

  DESPITE BLOOD LOSS for both of us and a vampire venom buzz for me, we have to move. Fast, unfortunately, is not an option. Draping Ash’s arm over my shoulders, I haul him to his feet, then we half-shuffle, half-limp together toward the door. All my concern about him being mad at me is replaced with worry for Jeremy and Max.

  I glance both ways down the street, magic pulsing inside me like a second heartbeat, then power walk us as fast as possible toward Ash’s car.

  We collapse into the purple monstrosity, gasping and covered in sweat and blood. “Okay, step on it,” I say, gulping in air. “Let’s just hope no one saw us because somehow I doubt even Montrose residences aren’t going to be bothered by seeing two bloody teenagers limping across the street. Not in the middle of June.”

  Clutching the steering wheel with shaking hands, Ash checks his rear view and side mirrors. “We definitely have more than enough problems to deal with.”

  With as much speed as won’t get us pulled over — ten miles above the posted limit because that’s how Houston rolls — we speed to The Mercury Room. No destruction shows on the outside of the building. A few patrons even walk in through the front door. However, when we pull into the parking space behind the dumpster, Kia rushes out the back exit to meet us looking almost as roughed up as we do.