Read Cursed Online

Authors: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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

Cursed (4 page)

All I heard was the last three words. I lunged at him. He didn’t even move out of the way. He simply caught my hand in his and squeezed gently.

The act knocked the air and common sense right out of me. This—
this
was what I’d been yearning for. A simple touch, a brushing of skin without hurting someone, and it was everything I thought it would be. Strength. Warmth. Humanity.

All in one simple touch.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered hoarsely. My gaze locked on his hands. His fingers were long and graceful-looking. They were strong.

“I’m absorbing your gift,” he said. “I’m like you, Ember. Gifted.”

I lifted my eyes, and saw the proud lines of his face tense. Hayden’s fingers left my hand and slid under the cuff of my sweater. His touch was scalding, and my skin tingled wherever his fingers went.

Dizziness swept through me, and Hayden seemed to sway. The room spun. I blinked, but everything still moved. Panic squeezed my heart as I tried to pull my arm away, but he held on.

“What are you doing to…?” I couldn’t remember what I was saying.

“I’m sorry, but this is the only way,” Hayden said, sounding like he truly was. “We’re going to help you.” He placed his other hand on my cheek. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me, Ember.”

My name was the last thing I heard. The world went black, and then there was nothing.

Chapter 4

I
knew I needed to wake up, but my eyelids felt like they’d been glued shut. Slowly and with much effort, I peeled them open. Dazzling sunshine flowed in through the lace-covered windows.

Curtains?

There wasn’t a single curtain in my entire house. Not that I had anything against them, but I could never figure out how to get the damn rods up. Woozy, I pushed myself onto my elbows and glanced around. I was in a bed much bigger than the one I was used to. Gilded frames decorated the buttery yellow walls. A flat-screen TV sat on a cherry oak dresser that looked like something hand-carved in the nineteenth century. A matching desk stood beside the dresser, with a slender, expensive-looking laptop perched atop it. French doors led to what appeared to be a balcony and on the other side of the room, another set of doors led to a bathroom… and a walk-in closet.

Okay, this was definitely not my room.

I sat up, biting my lower lip as a rush of dizziness threatened to push me back into the soft comforter. The events leading up to this fuzzed in my brain, but I remembered enough to push down the nausea the headache was causing. I swung my legs off the bed and stood. The room spun for a couple of seconds before righting itself.

The bedroom door opened, revealing a man with neatly trimmed, dark hair and a tailored business suit. I stepped back, bumping into the bed.

“Good. You’re awake. We were getting worried. Hayden’s gift can pack quite a punch,” he said pleasantly. “My name is Jonathan Cromwell. You are in my home.”

“Who… where is my sister?” I asked hoarsely.

He folded his hands behind his back. “Olivia is here, and she’s been asking for you. I can take you to her. Then, you and I must talk.”

I placed a hand to my thumping temple and winced. “Talk about what?”

“I think you should see your sister first, Ember. It would ease her anxiety tremendously to know that you are well.”

Concern for Olivia urged me forward, but suspicion pinged my thoughts. “How do I know this isn’t a trick… or something?”

A patient smile formed on his lips. “I know you have a lot of questions, but you must put them aside. Olivia needs you, Ember.”

Olivia needs you
.Those words had always provoked an instantaneous need. I nodded and scrunched my face up in pain. My head felt like it was going to explode.

Mr. Cromwell stepped aside, motioning for me to follow him. I kept a safe distance between us as we made our way down the wide hallway, passing several closed doors. Instead of stopping at the last one like I expected, he went down a winding staircase. Below, I could see two more levels. Everywhere I looked, there were various paintings of Greek and Roman gods on the walls. Anatomically correct marble statues stood in the corners.

We stopped outside a door on the second floor. Childish giggles radiated from the room, pulling me forward like a moth to light. I’d recognize the sound of her laughter anywhere. I stepped around the guy and pushed open the door.

Relief flooded me. Olivia, her hair subdued into two little pigtails, sat in the middle of a large bedroom, surrounded by a ridiculous number of toys, stuffed animals, and… Mom. My mother sat in a chair, wearing an oversized sweater and slippers. Her face was as blank as ever, but she wasn’t in bed.

This had to be a dream.

Olivia twisted around and erupted in high-pitched shrieks. “Em! Em!” She was on her feet, rushing at me like a mini-tornado. “I’ve missed you! Emmie! Em!”

“Olivia,” I choked out.

She wrapped her arms around my legs without hesitation. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my arms, but my gloves were gone. My hands hovered above her curls as if they had a mind of their own. I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled sharply.

“Em!” She tugged on my jeans. “Look!”

I opened my eyes. She broke away from me, pointing at the cage atop the dresser. “They let me bring Squeaky. And look! This is Mr. Sniffles!” She rushed toward a large tabby cat I’d thought was a stuffed animal.

“That’s nice.” My eyes fell to Mom. She occupied a rocking chair that I imagined belonged in a nursery room. “Mom? It’s me.” I took a step forward.

She blinked slowly, but it was like a soundproof wall prevented her from hearing me.

“Em, what have you been doing?” Olivia asked, drawing my attention back to her. She’d dropped the cat and moved on to a baby doll. “I wanted to see you, but Mr. Cromwell said you needed to rest.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the dark-haired man. “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping.”

Olivia held the doll by one arm, swinging it around and around. “You’ve been sleeping for days.”

For
days
? “Um… well, I was really tired.”

Skipping up to me, she seemed to accept my excuse. “I like it here, Emmie.”

“Really?” I felt dizzy, faint. God, was I going to pass out again?

She nodded impishly and then twitched her chubby index finger at me. It was a habit of hers whenever she wanted to tell me a secret, so I bent closer and lowered my head. “What?” I whispered, ignoring the white specks of lights dancing across my vision.

Leaning in, Olivia whispered near my ear. “Mr. Cromwell says I’m gifted.”

“Oh. Okay,” I whispered back, my brain reeling. Olivia jumped away and twirled across the room. “Squeaky likes it here.”

“Ember,” Mr. Cromwell said.

I nodded without looking back. “Olivia, I need to talk to Mr. Cromwell. Are you okay up here?”

“Yep. Mommy and I are playing with my new toys.”

Against my will, I looked at my mom again. She turned her head and smiled down at Olivia. Just seeing her provoked so many emotions. I tried to remember what she’d been like before the accident, but her current state overshadowed those memories.

I shook my head and turned to where Mr. Cromwell waited, a patient expression on his face.

“We can talk in the kitchen,” he said. “I’m sure you must be hungry.”

Before I could pull myself away from the room, I heard Olivia speak. “Mommy?”

I stopped. My heart fluttered in my chest. I just wanted to hear her voice, that’s all. Then: “Yes, baby?”

“Why don’t you talk to Emmie? It makes her sad.”

There was a moment of silence. “Baby,” Mom said softly, “I can’t talk to her. Ember’s in heaven with Daddy.”

* * *

We sat in the type of kitchen my mom would’ve given her firstborn child to have before she had lost her mind.

“Your mother is very ill, Ember. Possibly one day her memories will resurface.” Cromwell frowned. “It must be hard for you to have your own mother believe that you’re dead.”

I rolled a can of soda between my palms. It felt weird to be around people and not have my gloves on. Untouched plates of cold cuts and cookies sat between us.

“How have you managed to take care of her and your sister? You were only fifteen at the time of the accident.”

My irritation level rose, as did my suspicions. “How do you know about the accident?”

Cromwell smiled. “We know a lot of things, Ember.”

My appetite dried and shriveled up. “How do you know so much? Why am I here? And where
is
here, anyway?”

His blue eyes seemed to shine in the bright kitchen. “You’re in Petersburg, West Virginia.”

A hysterical laugh bubbled up and broke free. “Where? I’ve never even heard of Peterstown or whatever.”

“Petersburg,” he corrected. “Not many outside of this state would. We are at the base of Seneca Rocks.”

I stared blankly. Was I supposed to know what that meant?

His expression was one of parental patience, but it was off somehow—wrong even. “You’re remarkably calm.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m freaking out inside.” I glanced up and met his eyes.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning.” He leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. “I think that would help you understand there is nothing to fear.”

I seriously doubted that.

“There are two kinds of people in this world, Ember. There are ones who are mundane, ordinary. Those people are like outsiders to us.”

“To us?” I said, wanting to laugh again.

The patient look didn’t fade. “Yes. You’re different. Just like your sister.”

Lying was like second nature. I didn’t even think about it. “There’s nothing different about Olivia.”

“Ember, you and I both know better than that. Like I said, there are two kinds of people in this world: outsiders and the gifted. You and your sister are far from normal.” Mr. Cromwell leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “Look at what happened to that boy. He died from simply touching you.”

Ice coated my insides. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. A rush of cold air went down my spine.

“It was an accident. I understand that,” Cromwell said gently. “But it’s a shame for someone so young to perish.”

Tears clogged my throat and burned my eyes. “I didn’t mean to… to kill him.”

“I know.”

“What happened to his… body?”

“It’s been taken care of.”

“But this isn’t right.” I squeezed the can so hard the sides dented, spilling soda over my fingers. “I need to turn myself in. I should be punished or something. I need to be pun—”

“What has been done is done. And I cannot allow you to turn yourself in.” He leaned back, folding his arms. “Your… touch would expose all who are gifted. We cannot risk that.”

I stared at him, reeling. This man knew I was capable of killing—had killed—and he was more worried about me exposing people than what I could do to him? He was insane. I was insane for sitting here, listening to him.

“No one will ever find out about the unfortunate accident. Everything that has happened is in the past now. You’re safe here.”

“No. That man… the one in the cowboy hat wanted to hurt me.”

Cromwell clucked his tongue. “Kurt meant you no harm. He can be rough around the edges, but he’s a good man. I trust him with my life and that of my son.”

The urge to laugh came again. “So he’s not dead?”

“No. You gave him a good knock on the head, but he survived.”

I guessed I should feel good about that.

“Ember, I want to help your family. Your sister has gifts that need to be controlled, but we have to be honest with each other and not play games.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’m not playing games. I don’t even know who you are. You kidnapped us.”

“You also tried to kill Kurt and my son,” he replied bluntly.

“Your son? Hayden? He was stalking me! And he hurt me! His touch or whatever did something to me.”

“Hayden is unique. His touch drains the power of others, if he wills it. Such a remarkable boy. But even as gifted as he is, your touch would’ve still affected him if he hadn’t used his gift.”

I rubbed my forehead. None of this made any sense to me. I needed to be plotting a way to escape from this lunatic.

Cromwell rested his elbow on the table and cupped his chin. “We have been tracking you and Olivia for two years.”

I choked. “
What
?”

“To be able to bring back the dead… Then you? There was nothing about you which indicated your gift until Olivia brought you back.”

The whitewashed walls seemed to spin around me again.

Cromwell sighed. “Ember, when someone dies, they don’t come back the same. You know this, don’t you? Some would say it’s unnatural. Wrong.”

I started to stand, but sat back down. My heart was thundering in my chest.
Unnatural. Wrong
. Those words cut through me like a hot knife.

“I don’t mean to be so blunt, Ember. But you must know what you can do is only a product of your death, and of your sister’s natural gift. You brought something back with you—an ability even rarer than your sister’s.”

“I’m not bad—I’m not evil,” I blurted out. But then it hit me.

Maybe I was. Good people didn’t kill.

He smiled evenly, but something about it made me shudder. “I know, my dear. But what happened was inevitable. It could’ve been Olivia or a boy who got too close to you. Your friend, for example—what’s his name? Ah, yes. Adam. It was bound to happen. Truth be told, I should have intervened long before this. The incident could’ve been prevented.”

I was confused and scared, really freaking scared. This man knew about everything, even Adam. And what he’d said was true. It could have been Olivia or Adam.

“There are other people here like your sister. Others who are gifted in a way the world could only fantasize about. Here,” he said, “she is not alone.”

I sank a hand into my curls and pulled them off my face. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I know. Things are terribly confusing for you,” he said. “You’re worried about Olivia, about your mother. Why a strange man would bring you into his home.”

I laughed then. It sounded a bit rough. “No, really?”

“But you don’t have anything to worry about anymore. We’ll take care of your sister. And we’ll try to take care of you.”

I looked up, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Do you even understand how creeptastic this sounds? You’re a complete stranger to me. You keep talking about gifts and stuff that makes no sense.”

“I can help your sister, Ember. Her gift of giving life and healing needs cultivation. And she needs to be around others like her—others who will understand.” Cromwell drew in a deep breath, and his eyes met mine. “Then there is you, and frankly, I’m not sure what to do with you.”

Tiny hairs on my neck stood up. “What do you mean?”

“When I was Olivia’s age, I had no one looking out for me. I’ve made it my life’s mission to make sure no other gifted children face what I did.” A dark look stole away the warmth in his eyes. “Both you and your sister are valuable for different reasons. There are people out there who would seek to manipulate what your sister can do, and abuse what you can do. I intend to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Really?” I glanced around the kitchen for an exit. “That really didn’t answer my question.”

“Your sister belongs here, Ember. For that reason alone, I am willing to take a risk on you.”

There were a lot of doors—escape routes—in the room, and Olivia was upstairs, but I was a weapon of mass destruction. I could take the weirdo. “Is that so?”

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