Read Cursed Online

Authors: Jennifer L. Armentrout

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Fantasy, #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Cursed

Cursed (7 page)

Adam blinked slowly, as if he was just waking up. First he looked at Kurt, then Cromwell. “Where am I?”

“Nowhere,” Cromwell answered quietly. “You need to go home, Adam Lewis. Go now, before your mother worries.”

“I don’t want Mom to worry.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead.

I pushed down the dread building bitterly in the back of my throat. Adam was fine. He just looked tired and confused, but okay. “Adam?”

Adam blinked again. “Who… who are you?”

My laugh sounded strange. “You know who I am, you idiot.”

He fiddled with his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his noise. “I have no idea who you are, but I’ve got to get home. Mom is gonna kill me.” He walked past me, shaking his head. “Man, I’m in so much trouble.”

I stared. He got back in the car, muttering the whole time. He slammed the door and turned the ignition. The engine roaring to life snapped me into action. I rushed to his car. “Adam, look at me. Please! You know who I am.”

He jerked back from the window, frowning. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Please, don’t do this, Adam. We’ve been friends since I ate your lunch in kindergarten. You fell off your bike when you were ten and you broke your leg. Remember?” He continued looking at me blankly. Panic caused my voice to rise. “You have to sit next to Sheila Cummings in bio. You hate that, because she thinks osmosis is bad breath. Last week, she asked you if she was Jewish. Come on, don’t do this to me. Please!”

“Ember,” Hayden called out, his voice sounding ragged. “Just stop. Stop now. Please.”

I ignored him. “Adam, come on. You are my friend—my best friend. You’re the only one who was my friend after the accident. We… we…” We had sandbox love; didn’t he remember that?

Adam started rolling up the window, brows raised. “I’m sorry. I don’t know you.”

Pain cut through me so sharply that it knocked the air right out of me. “No. No.” I hit the window with my palm. It shook, but did not give. “Adam, please. Say my name. You know who I am. You have to!”

He shook his head, lips pulled back in a sneer—a look I’d never seen Adam give me. “I don’t know you. Jesus. So stop being a freak.”

My hand stilled against the window. I blinked, willing myself to wake up. Because this—this had to be a nightmare. Surely, this couldn’t be real—the pain in my chest, the numb way my body felt.

Adam threw the car in reverse, shaking his head. Someone pulled me back before he ran over my foot. He left—really left. I wanted to run after him, but it’d be pointless. His face showed the same blankness Mom had whenever she looked at me.

I was dead to him, just like I was dead to Mom.

I could’ve stood there for hours. It didn’t matter. My heart seized, then shattered, and with everything I’d learned to deal with, I didn’t know how to deal with
this
.

Cromwell sighed wearily. “I’m sorry for your pain, but you left me no other choice.”

My cheeks felt damp. My fingers came back wet. When I looked toward the house, I saw Cromwell go back inside. Mom thought I was dead. My sister chose toys and a pseudo-mom over me. Our house was gone. And now, my only link to anything had been wiped away.

Adam was gone.

Chapter 8


D
esolation” wasn’t even an adequate word. “Fury” didn’t describe what I was feeling. Blindly, I turned around. Rage and sorrow swelled, wanting to swallow me whole.

“I knew this was going to be a mistake,” Kurt said. “I told Jonathan we shouldn’t have brought her here. The little one—whatever, but I knew this one was going to be a problem. Just look at her, she’s getting ready to blow.”

“Kurt, can you just shut up?” Hayden started toward me.

“You can’t tell me you aren’t worried about her being here. She’s unstable right now. She’s capable of anything. Are you seriously comfortable with her running around in your house?”

“She’s not dangerous,” Hayden said in a low voice.

“That’s right. I forgot. You’re blinded by your obsession with her.” Kurt took a step forward. “Everyone knows. All those times you went back there. There was no reason.”

“Are you finished?” Hayden asked calmly.

“No,” he said. “She should’ve been wiped—”

I acted at the basest of instincts, the cruelest of desires. I dove at him, aiming for any part of exposed flesh. All I could see was him touching Adam, removing all traces of me. So that was his gift. For some reason, I felt like that should have been a more powerful realization.

But all I could think was that I kind of wanted Kurt to die.

Kurt’s hand caught me in the side before I could even touch him. An explosive string of curses sounded, and then he pushed hard. Unable to catch myself, I fell backward and landed in the gravel at an awkward, hip-first angle. Pain flared, unexpected and intense.

Since I was on the ground, I didn’t see how Hayden got to Kurt so fast. All I knew was that he did, and I could
feel
his rage in the form of a blast of red-hot energy. There was a smell in the air—almost like rubber burning. A snapping sound jerked my head up. A huge tree branch swayed and then broke free from the tree, landing between the two. Ignoring the pain in my hip, I scooted back.

“Don’t ever touch her again,” Hayden growled.

Kurt looked up, eyes wide. “Are you threatening me—over her? I’m like your brother, Hayden!”

“Not anymore.”

Kurt blinked, a stunned look crept across his face. “She was going to touch me. I defended myself.”

“I don’t care. Stay away from her.”

For a tense moment, they locked eyes—Hayden’s the color of the darkest hour of night. The air thickened and snapped. I glanced up at the trees, half-afraid the whole forest would come down on us. Neither of them moved for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Kurt spun on his heel and stalked toward the house.

“Are you okay?”

I stared at the branch. It was thick enough to crack a skull if it’d hit someone. “Yeah,” I whispered.

Hayden unexpectedly reached out, grabbing my hand and hauling me to my feet. Stunned by the contact, I didn’t pull away. He held on for seconds, but it equaled a lifetime to me. Without thinking, my fingers curled around his, reveling in the smoothness of his hand, the way his fingers seemed to bend around mine almost eagerly.

But then he dropped my hand as if it burned him. From what I’d learned from him before, a few seconds couldn’t have done anything to him. Silence stretched out between us. I tried focusing on anything other than Adam, but Hayden just had to go there.

“Why did you lie to me yesterday?” he asked. “You told me you didn’t tell him where you were. If you hadn’t lied to me, I could’ve stopped this from happening.”

“I didn’t know he was going to come here. Adam didn’t know anything. He never knew.” I stopped, sucking air unsteadily. “Why am I even telling you this? It doesn’t matter now. So I lied to you. You all have won, okay? I’m not going anywhere, because I don’t have anywhere left to go. Olivia loves it here, and isn’t that what you all wanted? To make sure she loved it here?”

“Ember, no one—”

“And now I have nothing.” My voice broke. “So you’ve won. Aren’t you happy?”

He reached for me again. This time his hand caught my arm. “This doesn’t make me happy.”

I looked down at his hand. His fingers, long and elegant, circled my covered arm completely. I glanced up; our eyes locked for one, two, three counts. Something intense flowed across his face, and he took a step forward—so close I had to crane my neck back.

“You hurting would never make me happy,” Hayden said.

“You don’t get it. He was all I had. Adam was it. That was it. And you all took it away.”

He flinched and dropped my arm. “That’s not true. I’m here for you.”

Shaking my head, I backed up. “I don’t know you, so that means nothing to me.”

* * *

“Emmie? You sleeping?”

I opened my eyes, staring at the vaulted ceiling. “No.”

Olivia was quiet. Seconds later, I felt her hoist herself over the edge of the bed. She crawled across and sat so her face was directly above mine. I closed and opened my eyes, but her face was still planted in front of mine.

“Why didn’t you eat dinner?”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

She reached out and grabbed a handful of my hair. I braced myself, but she managed to not leave me bald this time. “Ms. Liz said you had a bad day.”

That was the understatement of the millennium.

Humming softly, she separated the curls in her hands. I stayed impossibly still so her little fingers didn’t brush my scalp.

“You mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You sad?” She tugged a thick curl across her fingers.

I had no idea how she jumped from me being mad at her to me being sad. It hurt my head to even try to figure it out. “I’m just tired.”

Straightening out several curls, she pulled my hair in front of my face. Her fingers smelled like Play-Doh. I loved that smell. The sudden rush of tears was unexpected. I squeezed my eyes shut.

She let go of my hair, giggling as the curl sprang back. “Emmie?”

“Yeah?” Even with my eyes closed, I felt her face in mine again.

“I love you lots.”

Something was wrong with my eyelids. They weren’t blocking the tears. I slid my hands between us and smacked them over my face. I bit down on my lip to keep the horrible sound from escaping.

Olivia tugged on my sleeves. “Emmie?”

“I love you too,” I said thickly.

Eventually, she gave up on the tug of war. The bed dipped as Olivia shifted down and wrapped her arms around my waist. I didn’t dare move until I heard Olivia’s soft snore. I lowered my hands carefully to chest level.

Vaguely, I wondered when I’d turned into such a wuss. I had cried after the accident, Dad’s death, and my own dying stuff, but I thought I’d used up a lifetime’s worth of tears. But losing Adam was just as painful—ripping open old wounds, creating new ones. I eventually caved to exhaustion.

My eyelids drifted shut and when I opened them again, Olivia was gone.

Crying always left my head feeling like a drummer had taken up residence inside my skull. I pushed off the covers and swung my feet off the bed.

Soft light from the bedside lamp cut away at the darkness. I found my way to the bathroom and washed away what remained of my tear-fest. Then I pulled off my hoodie and tossed it back into the bedroom. I refused to look in the mirror after that. With my current drama-induced freak-out, I would probably throw myself on the floor after one glimpse of my scars.

Unable to fall back to sleep, I sat down at the desk and booted up the computer. Hope sparked alive when I checked my email. There were old messages from Adam, proving that he had known me once upon a time, and the one Dad had forwarded to me before the accident, but nothing new.

I don’t even know what I was thinking.

Out of boredom and a sort of desperate need to think about anything else, I Googled: “Gifted.” Results were so not what I was looking for. Then I searched “special powers.” Wikipedia brought the giggles, but since I didn’t think I was dealing with the
X-Men
, I hit the backspace button.

Finally, I came across a website dedicated to real accounts of superpowers. Taking a deep breath, I clicked on the link and started reading. Things like clairvoyance, precognition, the ability to look into the past, rapid learning, super-speed, telekinesis, telepathy, pyrokinetics, memory removal, dream manipulation, and on and on. There was nothing on bringing back the dead or a “toxic touch” syndrome. All these years I’d never really considered the idea of Olivia having “superpowers,” but there was no doubt she was gifted, and so were the other people in the house.

Me? I was cursed.

Yawning, I scanned the rest of the page. Curiosity got the best of me and I typed in “The Facility.” After several pages of nonsense, I gave up. I don’t know why I’d thought some crazy research-slash-kid-stealing institute would have a website.

Weary, I turned the computer off and picked up my sketchpad. Several attempts at drawing ended in failure. Everything came across wrong, uneven. I ripped the pages off one by one and tossed them to the floor. All the while my brain kept spitting out questions that had no answers. Tossing the pad on the desk, I stood and glanced around the room. The drapes covering the balcony doors stirred as the air kicked on.

The flimsy material billowed out further. I reached out and caught the drapes. Outside, thick clouds rolled through the night sky. Only a fine sliver of moonlight hit the balcony, casting shadows of the nearby trees. But something looked strange about the shadows near the balcony door. Frowning, I leaned closer and peered through the glass.

One of the shadows appeared way too thick, too solid—and way too tall.

My fingers slid away from the curtain. Then the shadow moved.

I jerked back from the door, tripping over the chair I’d been sitting in. I caught myself on the edge of the bed, eyes glued to the door.

By the time I found the courage to look again, there was nothing on the other side of the door or anyone on the balcony. I double-checked that the door was locked—a pointless precaution, but it made me feel better. I climbed into bed and lay down on my side, clutching the blankets to my chin. My eyes stayed on the balcony doors.

It was a long time before my heart would calm down enough so I could fall back asleep.

Chapter 9

I
felt like a ghost.

Gabe, the blond guy who’d thrown me across the room telekinetically, left the room if I walked in. The twins, Phoebe and Parker, just flat out refused to acknowledge my existence. Never in my life had I felt more like a loser—and that was saying something. By the time Cromwell basically ordered me to the kitchen, I was grateful. At least
someone
wanted to talk to me.

Once there, I found myself sitting in the same spot I had two days ago, but this time Hayden was with us. He wasn’t talking much since he was busy shoving a foot-long sub in his mouth.

“I wanted to discuss the school situation. You’re already registered and set to go tomorrow,” Cromwell said.

I watched Hayden. He ate amazingly fast, and he was sloppier than Olivia. Pieces of tomato and turkey fell to the plate, along with globs of mayonnaise and mustard.

“At no time are you allowed to discuss any of our gifts with the outsiders.”

“Yeah, I think I already know what will happen if I do,” I snapped.

Cromwell sighed. “Ember, I’m sorry about what happened to your friend. However, you left me with no other option.”

“Adam didn’t know anything,” I said for the hundredth time.

Cromwell folded his arms on the table. “I will not continue to discuss this with you, Ember. But do understand—if I think you have told any outsider about us, I will do the same. Again.”

“Or you could just ship me off.”

He took a deep breath, visibly struggling for patience. “Yes, that is always an option. Do you understand, Ember?”

Hayden stopped eating long enough to hear my answer. “Yes. I understand.”

“Good,” Cromwell said. “I have some questions for you.” I stared at him until his smile strained.

“May I ask how many times Olivia has used her gift? Besides the time she used it with you.”

I thought about lying. “Only a few times since: a cat, a pigeon, and Squeaky. I’ve gotten her to understand not to do it, but I can’t promise you that she won’t if she sees a dead animal.” I glanced over at Hayden. The sub was gone. Now he stared at me. “Olivia has a soft spot for animals.”

“Squeaky? The hamster upstairs?” Cromwell asked.

I got a twisted amount of pleasure from seeing Cromwell’s eyes widen with surprise. “Yep. Squeaky died. I buried him. Olivia dug him up. I woke up the next day with the thing sitting on my chest.”

Cromwell blinked. “Oh. Okay. Well, most children her age usually don’t attend public school until they have a strong grasp on their gifts. Over the past few days, I have seen no reason to believe that Olivia will be a risk in public school.”

“What about the kids who
do
pose a risk?” I cut in. “Do they go to the Facility?”

“Someone has been listening to our conversations.” Cromwell glanced at his son. “Yes. Children who could benefit from a more specialized school would attend there. Hayden went there for several years. He was taught to control his gift.”

I stole another quick peek at him. “From what I overheard, it doesn’t sound like a fun time.”

Hayden’s lips slipped into the half-smile, but he said nothing. Cromwell ignored me. “As I said, Olivia will do fine among outsiders. She is such a bright child. She has an old—”

“An old soul,” I finished for him.

Cromwell’s smile was real this time. “And that brings me to you, Ember. There are some reservations.”

“Naturally,” I muttered.

He ignored that, too. “Your inability to control it is a concern of mine.”

“You know, I’ve lived two years with this.” I started tapping my fingers on the table. “It’s not like I run around and touch people. What happened with… Dustin will never happen again.”

“That may be true, but there have been several situations of you losing your temper since you arrived here,” Cromwell said. “That’s a concern.”

I snorted and continued to tap my fingers. I could tell by the way Hayden stared at my fingers it was annoying the crap out of him. “That should probably tell you something.”

“It
has
told me quite a bit. When you’re frightened or confused, you react violently. Unstably, even. Throwing you into a new school with new people may provoke the same reaction from you.”

My fingers froze over the wood.

Cromwell’s smile turned smug. Just for a second, but I saw it. “I know you would never want to hurt someone innocent, but I fear you just may not be able to control yourself.”

I returned to tapping my fingers. I had no problem with Cromwell thinking that. Whatever. His opinion—

Hayden placed his hand on my arm. I shot him a dirty look, but when he released my arm, I didn’t start back up with the tapping.

“That’s why you need to do everything in your power to control yourself, Ember. I want to keep you with your sister, but if something happens I will have no choice.”

“But she won’t do anything. Will you?” Hayden asked, speaking to me for the first time since, well, yesterday. We’d crossed paths a couple of times today, but he’d ignored me, too.

“Um, I’m going to go with no.”

“Then I’m relieved to hear that. You already have one strike against you, and I’m not playing baseball,” Cromwell said. “You won’t get three strikes with me.”

It took everything for me not to roll my eyes—or laugh in his face. I doubted he’d appreciate either.

Cromwell stood and pushed his chair back in. “I’m glad we’ve had this conversation.”

I slid Hayden a wary look as Cromwell clapped him on the shoulder before leaving the room. Alone, Hayden and I stared at each other. Growing uncomfortable with the awkward silence, I started to stand.

Hayden leaned across the table.

I jerked back, but he flashed me a lazy grin and wrapped his hands around a thick, brown candle. Immediately, the candle collapsed in on itself. The scent of maple and cinnamon permeated the air.

“Well, aren’t you just special,” I said dryly.

“Not as special as you.” He leaned back. “Why are you so argumentative?”

“Were you on the balcony last night?” I asked instead.

Hayden draped his arm over the back of his chair. “No.” His eyes dropped to where I fiddled with the button on my sweater. “But I was in your room last night.”

It took me a minute to respond. “Look, I don’t want you following me around anymore. Or whatever it was you were doing in… my bedroom.”

He arched a dark eyebrow. “I wasn’t doing anything in your room, Ember. Liz was looking for Olivia. I checked your room and found her.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flushed.

“Why do you ask if I was on the balcony?”

I shrugged. “I thought I saw someone.”

“Well, did you?”

“I guess I was seeing things.”

He made some sort of affirmative sound and I looked up. His dark eyes were narrowed on the wall, the lines of his face tense.

I cleared my throat. “So, yeah, thanks for… um, getting Olivia.”

His dark eyes swiveled back to me. Strands of hair fell across his forehead. “I think you can control your gift.”

“It’s not a gift,” I blurted out. “It’s nothing like you or Olivia. I’m just screwed up. That happens when you die, I guess.”

“That can’t be it, Ember. I don’t believe that.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, then.”

Hayden stared at me silently, and I grew uncomfortable again. The way he did that made me feel like he could see right through me.

“I can help you,” he said finally. “There isn’t any action out there in the world that doesn’t occur without a thought—a want or need behind it. If we can figure—”

“No.” I shook my head. “You were told not to do this.”

He sent me a sly grin. “I don’t always do what I’m told.”

“Neither do I, but it’s
my
ass on the line. Not yours. I heard Cromwell. He’d send me away.”

“We wouldn’t get caught, and he wouldn’t send you away. He was just saying that to make the others feel better.” He paused as he saw my doubtful look. “Look, it wouldn’t hurt anything. Don’t you want to be able to touch someone? Hold your sister’s hand?”

“It’s not going to work, Hayden. I’m not like you.”

He swung his legs around so he faced me. “So you rather not do anything? Just give up?”

“Why do you even care?”

“Do you want to be sent away?” he said, instead of answering my question. “Because there are some here who are hoping you do screw up.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But if you could control your touch, then no one has anything to worry about.” He shifted closer, his knees pressing against mine. My stomach went all fluttery. “I never thought I could control my gift, but I did. You won’t know until you try.”

“I don’t want to try and fail.” The words came out. I wanted to stop them, but couldn’t. “And I couldn’t deal with hope and then failure. You know? ‘Cuz that’s what’s going to happen.”

An array of emotions flickered over his face, his eyes swiftly turning from brown to black. He reached forward.

I scooted back. “Don’t.”

He stopped, one arm extended. The heat from his skin blew back at me.

“I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Ember. If anything, I admire you. Not many people our age could deal with what you’ve had to. You know, my dad has always thought that Olivia was the amazing one, the one who has this remarkable gift. But I’ve always thought it was you.” He stiffened and looked away. “So yeah, I don’t pity you.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. Compliments nowadays were so few I had no idea how to act. Part of me warmed, and not in embarrassment. Hearing him say that didn’t make me feel like so much of a freak.

I shifted awkwardly, and finally, I said something really stupid. “I’m remarkable because I can kill people. So I’d say you’re obligated to say that. Or else.”

Hayden gave that lopsided smile. A dimple appeared in his right cheek. I wondered if the left cheek had one, too. “It’s not what you can do, Ember. It’s who you are.”

“But you don’t really know me. Yeah, you saw me a couple of times. Whatever. But you don’t know who I am. Or what I am. The whole dying thing took something from me, I think. And…”

“And what?”

“Nothing.” Shaking my head, I pushed back from the table. “I don’t know what I was saying. Just forget it.”

He looked like he wasn’t going to let it go. “Okay, but we are going to try.”

I hugged my elbows. “But—”

“You have no reason not to. We won’t get caught. You won’t hurt me. I can control it. I’m like your kryptonite.”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Nope.”

I let out a breath. “Why are you doing this? Why do you want to help me?”

Hayden’s eyes locked with mine, and his had this weird, magnetic pull to them. “I’m doing it because I want to.”

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