Serpent Cursed (Lost Souls Series Book 2)

by Bree Moore

  Gwenyth picked up a hot curling iron. “Bring in your wings and hold your head still or I might burn you. We don’t want that.”

  Harper obliged, stared woodenly forward. She wished she could see Becca’s face. Did she care what Tyson’s cousin thought of her? Whether or not she blamed or agreed with her?

  Becca continued. “It’s not what I imagined. You know, as a kid, pretending to be a werewolf or a selkie, you just don’t…” she trailed off, then laughed again. “I suppose you probably don’t know what that’s like. You were born special.”

  Harper snorted. “Yeah, special. That’s one way to put it.”

  “Well, special is what brings you here tonight.” Gwenyth turned to Becca and started brushing her long blonde hair, then picked up the curling iron again.

  A slow clap echoed from the back of the room. Harper and Becca turned, which made Gwenyth yelp.

  “Gwenyth, you’ve worked magic.” Hal stood at the door wearing a white suit with a pale pink tie and vest underneath. His eye tattoos peeked out from beneath his cuffs and collar and flashed from his face.

  “I’m not done yet,” Gwenyth muttered. “But maybe you can tell these girls more about what they’re here for?”

  “Of course.” Hal rubbed his hands together. “Tonight is a critical night for our cause. We have many supporters in the east, but the west has been slower. This gala, for lack of a better word, is a recruiting event. Influencers and investors have been invited, and they need to see this side of the paranormal world. We’ve selected those who are on the fence, those who are ready but just need a nudge.”

  Becca turned around in her chair, curled hair piled on her head with glittery pins. “So, let me make sure I understand: you want us to come to this recruiting event, aka gala. There will be humans and paranormals there? How do you plan to keep things calm?”

  A riot would be the last thing they needed. Harper watched Hal’s face, but his controlled expression didn’t change.

  “Your concern is valid. Especially yours, Miss Becca. We will have music and food, as well as our own people in the room to help mitigate any disagreements that could happen. You’ll have time to mingle—and we greatly encourage mingling. This is one of the only places humans and paranormals can safely interact without prejudice, without assumption, in order to understand one another better.”

  “Will any government officials be there?” Harper’s hands clenched reflexively.

  “I think you’ll find plenty of like-minded individuals tonight, Harper. Do your best to relax.” Hal smiled.

  Relax? Was he kidding? The nerves crept back. It was the stupid dress and the stupid heels and the makeup and hair. Harper had never felt less like herself. Her hand trailed down the feathers on her right wing, the familiar motion soothing her anxiety.

  Hal opened the door before Harper could prepare herself. Tyson practically barged through, chest heaving, glancing frantically around the room before he noticed Harper. He froze.

  “I, uh.” Tyson’s jaw worked, but no words came out. He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He clasped them, rubbed his neck, then stuck them in his tux pockets. He leaned toward Harper. “You look incredible.”

  “What’s gotten into you? They brainwash you with that hair gel?” Goosebumps popped up on her arms. Harper tried to rub them away.

  Tyson grinned and shrugged. “I think it’s the suit, honestly. I haven’t worn one since high school prom.”

  Harper rubbed the edge of one of her wings. “I never went to prom.”

  “Not surprised, I guess. It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

  “This is a much different event than prom, I assure you.” Hal chuckled. “Now, let’s get along. Quickly, now.”

  “Becca and the others went with Gwenyth,” Tyson said.

  “Very well.” Hal snapped his fingers and ushered Harper and Tyson out the door, then overtook him with his long stride. Tyson’s head tilted, and he rubbed a spot on his chest.

  “Are you okay?” Harper asked.

  “Yeah, just, something familiar about him.” Tyson shook his head. “I’m noticing a lot of weird stuff since what happened. I think my abilities are awakening. Whatever that means.” He laughed nervously.

  “I’d like to know what happened.”

  “I’ll share mine if you share yours.” He took on his counselor voice and Harper bristled until he smirked and she realized he was joking.

  “Deal,” she said, surprising herself. She never thought she’d see a day when she willingly shared anything with anyone, but she wanted to tell him. She swallowed. “We should walk faster. Catch up.”

  Tyson glanced ahead at Hal, then grabbed Harper's hand. “Wait. Before we go down and join the others, before anything else happens I wanted—can we have a moment? Alone?”

  Harper breathed in. “Yes.”

  Tyson pulled her into a doorway. Harper moved her wings forward to keep the left one from being crushed against the door. They stood breathless in a cocoon of black feathers.

  “So much happened before I saw you in the village, I wouldn’t know where to begin telling you, but it feels weird that you don’t know about something that’s changed me so much on the inside.” His eyes searched hers.

  “I feel that way too,” Harper said in a rush. Her fingers twisted together. She glanced down, then up, meeting his eyes. “It made me realize that I’d gotten comfortable with you. At least, the parts of you that I knew. And then it was like we were strangers again.” She breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh scent of his cologne. It made her feel heady, the smell and his proximity.

  Tyson took one of her hands in his, stilling her fingers. “I know we don’t have time to share everything, but there was one part, where I was in a vision of some kind, and I saw you. You screamed my name, and you almost, I almost—I thought you would be killed.” He brought her fingertips to his lips. “You were there, in every part of my trials. And I can’t help but see you differently now that we’ve survived it all.”

  “I wanted you.” Harper surprised herself with the admission, but once it was said, she knew it was right. “I want you,” she corrected. She lifted her chin, desire climbing in her chest. Her free hand rested on his chest. She tilted her head to one side, gaze going from Tyson’s eyes to his lips, inviting him to make the next move.

  Tyson’s palm flattened on her cheek, cupping it. His fingers glided until they tucked under her ear. Her heart pounded. She pulled her head away from the wall and closed the distance between them. Their breath was all Harper could hear, and the soft sound of their lips parting, then meeting again, hungrier. Harper reached up to his neck and dug her fingers into his hair, bringing him closer, her body against his.

  They separated, gasping. Tyson’s cheeks were flushed.

  He straightened his suit, then held out his arm to her. “Let’s go see what this rebellion is about, shall we?”

  A thunderclap answered from a floor below, shaking the building. Harper looked at Tyson, eyes wide, and they ran together to the banister to see what was happening below.

  ⇺ ⇻

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tyson

  Pale grey smoke poured out of the wide double-doors of the room on the lower floor. Tyson put his hand over Harper’s on the railing.

  “Harper?”

  Below, the purple light changed to red, then yellow. A line of finely dressed people flowed from down a hall that was out of sight from the second level and entered the ballroom. Upbeat music started.

  “I think that was supposed to happen,” Tyson said. “You’re on edge.”

  Harper slid her hand away from his and moved away from the banister, hands gripping her dress. She marched toward Hal, who stood smiling at the top of a wide, looping staircase.

  “All right there, you two?” Hal asked, sweeping past.

  Fear and tension came off of Harper in waves. Waves that Tyson could literally feel, he realize
d. Like wind on bare skin or the sensation of one’s head spinning after a roller coaster, his body reacted to her emotions, and without asking he knew exactly what she was feeling. It mixed with the warm bliss lingering in him from the kiss they shared, confusing his senses. Why could Tyson sense her fear? Did it have to do with the trials he’d gone through?

  They stood at the back of a line of people, several of whom glanced back when they joined. Someone ahead let out a whistle.

  “Nice wings!”

  Harper sent them a smile that was more a grimace toward them and tucked her wings in closer. She crossed her arms.

  Damn, she looked amazing.

  “You look like an idiot again,” Harper hissed at Tyson. Her eyes darted back and forth. She seemed anxious.

  “And you look excessively beautiful.” The compliment received an eyeroll.

  The line moved forward. Most of the people standing in front of them could pass for humans, like Tyson. He caught a flash of green and pink out of the corner of one eye and noticed Becca standing with two suited men—one in an off-white white coat, the other in black with his long hair hanging free. Quinn. The other man was Avaan, Tyson had met him officially while they dressed. None of them looked his way, and he thought it might be rude to shout. They would have to find each other inside.

  The couple in front of Tyson and Harper turned. The woman played with a strand of her auburn hair and practically bounced on the balls of her feet, while the man with the black goatee barely smiled.

  “Hi! We’re Sid and Abby from Paras Undercover.” She held out a hand and Harper hesitantly shook it. Tyson did the same. “We’re humans. I mean, in case you couldn’t tell. Not that it matters, of course!” She laughed. A wave of enthusiasm struck Tyson so hard, he nearly stumbled back. Abby was a lot to take in. Her bubbly attitude had an undertow of crippling anxiety that crept into Tyson’s head, making it pound. What was happening? He’d been told that the trial would awaken his abilities, but he hadn’t exactly been told what his abilities were.

  Tyson did his best to smile politely through the headache and gave Sid a sympathetic look. The dark-haired man didn’t give off any emotions strong enough for Tyson to sense them through Abby’s hurricane.

  Harper craned her neck to look in the ballroom.

  Abby leaned over, waving in Harper’s face. “It’s so exciting, isn’t it? Being invited here. Are you part of it already or are you getting more information tonight too?”

  “I, uh,” Harper stammered.

  “What is it you do, exactly? With Paras Undercover?” Tyson asked. Abby’s attention turned to him, and Harper shot him a grateful look.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard of us? We’re all over! We follow individuals we suspect are supernatural and interview them live. We’re trying to make it more normal, you know, to have these abilities, to be paranormal. Showing the public that they’re just like the rest of us.” She gestured around the room, then elbowed Sid, who drew a small black card out of his pocket and handed it to Harper. She turned it over, then passed it to Tyson. The card’s logo bore a silhouette of an old-fashioned private eye. Tyson put it in the suit coat pocket of his tux.

  Abby continued without prompting, scooting backward to keep up as the line moved. “We have nearly 60,000 followers in our network, and we get more every day. People really want to know, you know? They want to know who we’re sharing this planet with. We are so, so honored to meet you both! I know tonight isn’t about interviews or any sort of business, but if you were interested in being interviewed, that would make our night.” She threw her hands up and laughed. Sid managed a slight upturn of his lips. They seemed like such an odd pair; maybe he was more of a behind-the-camera type.

  “Um, thank you, Abby,” Tyson said slowly, glancing toward Harper, who mouthed a single word. No.

  “We’re sort of… I mean, we’ll get back to you on that.”

  A wave of insecurity hit Tyson, and his stomach clenched. He doubled over, moaning.

  “Whoa, hey, you all right?” Abby’s voice floated across the room.

  The edge of Tyson’s vision bubbled up, like the world was made of melting plastic. He shook his head and it cleared. His stomach stopped heaving. Harper leaned toward him, looking concerned. Tyson laughed, breaking the tension.

  “It’s nothing. I’m all right.” He straightened, clearing his throat. They had nearly reached the doors.

  “He’s new to this,” Harper explained.

  Sid and Abby exchanged looks, and Abby’s eyes widened.

  “New to his abilities? Really? That’s fascinating!” Abby’s eyebrow twitched, and she bounced on her heels again, only this time it made Tyson dizzy to see her head bobbing. “Can you tell me how it happened? And what are your abilities?”

  Someone walked past Tyson, and he got a surge of anger. No, confusion? It was like getting text messages of emotion straight into his brain, although why it had started now was a mystery. He forced himself to breathe deeply and the emotion faded.

  Abby looked concerned now, too.

  “We should go sit down.” Harper tugged Tyson into the dimly lit room and toward the chairs lined up against the wall. Harper’s eyes lingered on Tyson. He blinked against the wall of her concern. Why could he feel it so strongly? The cloud was pierced by a ray of curiosity Abby directed his way. Tyson focused on it, getting a feeling of clarity that way.

  “You seem very aware of our surroundings. Heightened senses? An empath of some sort?”

  “Dreamwalker,” Tyson managed to say.

  Abby squeals. “I’ve always wanted to meet one of you! What tribe?”

  Tyson grunted, grabbing his middle, as a small group of people passed and three different emotions swamped his conscious mind, filling his body with a swamp of sensations.

  Harper’s touch on his arm grounded him, and he blinked through tears of panic as she sat him down and stood in front of him, fingers snapping in his face.

  Abby still chattered on about tribes and which one Tyson could be from and how their fans would “...eat this up. They’ll eat you up, Tyson. Oh! I get chills just thinking about it.”

  “Shut up, would you?” Harper barely turned her head as she snapped at the woman.

  “Oh my.” Abby’s face went pale. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “She said be quiet.” Sid grabbed Abby’s arm and she fell silent, pouting. Tyson’s head throbbed between Sid’s indignation and Abby’s disappointment.

  “What can I do?” Harper asked, still hovering anxiously. Tyson had never seen her agitated this way. Anxious instead of angry. Part of him was amused. The other part sensed another emotion approaching. Or rather, a person approaching. He braced himself for the onslaught of sensation that was no doubt coming.

  “What’s going on over here?” A cool female voice breezed across Tyson. He felt nothing. Nothing? He frowned and glanced up, making eye contact with two silvery orbs. He blinked. Eyes. They were eyes. The tall woman tossed her blond hair over her shoulder and bent down next to Tyson’s chair. Her purple dress flowed around her, and her hand touched his chin, lifting it higher. She tilted his head back and forth. “Overwhelmed, little Intuit?”

  Had she mispronounced “Inuit?”

  “Intuits are my specialty.” She reached into her purse and handed Tyson a card. Did everyone have one of these? “I was in your position once. Now I help other intuition-type paranormals get a handle on their abilities. You’ll want to work on yours, unless you want chronic migraines that eventually drive you mad.” She flashed her pearly white teeth and Tyson’s hand drifted up to take her card. It had a silver sheen, like her eyes, with purple font that was a bit hard to read, but Tyson made out her name: Isabel Falasca.

  The emotions faded away, as the others had turned their attention elsewhere. Tyson looked back to Isabel. “Why don’t I feel anything from you?”

  “I’ve shielded myself. It’s a critical skill for Intuits. Others ca
n’t sense what you’re feeling, and you can’t sense what others are feeling unless you want to. Win-win.”

  “What are you?” Tyson asked.

  She patted his hand. “Just your run of the mill empath, intuitive, whatever you want to call it. You’re different, but nothing I can’t handle.” She winked. “Call me after all of this. For now, do I have your permission to give you some relief?”

  Tyson nodded.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Harper blurted. She rubbed the palm of one hand, darting glances at Isabel. “I mean, you don’t know her.”

  “I don’t see any problem with it.” But Harper’s judgement put a seed of doubt in Tyson’s chest. He looked at Isabel again.

  The woman stood. “If you don’t want my help, that’s fine.”

  “No, I want your help, it’s just…”

  Isabel tossed her hair and walked away a few steps, heels clicking on the tile. Tyson pushed out of the chair, grabbing her hand. The moment his fingers closed on hers, a shock jolted through his body, and he Saw who this woman was. Who she really was.

  The black hair bled blond, her features melted, morphing into an entirely different face shape, but the satisfied smirk remained the same. And worse yet, it was all-too familiar.

  Lilith.

  Tyson’s jaw gaped open. “Why are you here?”

  “Better question: how did you find us?” Harper stepped up beside him, hands clenched into fists.

  Mal. She’d handed that note to Tyson and in everything that followed, he’d forgotten all about it, but now here it was, come back to haunt him. He drew the note out of his pocket. It still looked like nothing more than a scrap of paper.

  “Amazing what a little slip of paper can contain, isn’t it, Tyson?” Lilith raised her eyebrows and reached down, touching the paper’s edge. It smoked and caught on fire. Tyson yelped and dropped it, stomping out the flame with his dress shoes. “It’s a simple, grade-school tracking spell. With it, I knew you were here, and I decided I could kill two birds with one stone,” She pointed at Quinn and Harper. “and do some recruiting of my own.”