The Cursed (The Cursed Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  “No, don’t get out,” he said. Chandler removed his hand from Rory’s chest and reached for the key. Turning it in the ignition, the car hummed to life.

  “What are you doing?” Rory asked.

  “We are getting out of here before this situation gets any weirder.” Chandler knew Rory was getting ready to do as he was told, but the boy in the road raised his hand. On his wrist was a tattooed symbol that succeeded in making Chandler’s skin crawl. He wouldn’t have been bothered by it at all, seeing as it was fairly normal: a straight-backed seven that led off in a hypnotizing swirl. The thing that raised the red flag in his head was the brilliant glow coming from it.

  “Just go!” Chandler snapped irritably. Rory shot him a look but his foot pressed down hard, and the car shot forward. They were getting closer, and the speedometer already read forty miles above the speed limit. It was getting higher, and soon, they were only a few feet away.

  They smashed into an invisible wall just a few feet away from him. Before the entire front of the car could be crushed, Rory jerked the wheel sideways, and the car spun. On their sides, the car jolted unexpectedly, and they were thrown into the air. It pinwheeled over the boy’s head, and Chandler turned his head, moving around in the chaotic screech of metal to get a glimpse of Rory. Somewhere along the way, he’d hit his head, and he was out cold. His body folded to the momentum, and he slipped out of his seat belt. Without anything to stop him, he slid straight out of the busted windshield. Chandler’s arm snapped out to get a grip of whatever he could reach. Before his fingers closed around nothing, he thought the attempt was futile before it registered that Rory’s body was resting on the hood of the car and in his hand was the texture of cloth and the weight of a person.

  The car rolled on the ground as whatever shield the boy had up disappeared. They’d stopped almost a hundred feet from where the boy stood. Chandler peered through the ripped metal of the roof to see the boy drop his hand as Rory hit the ground and woke up flustered. Chandler was too busy watching the boy twitching in the middle of the road. His eyes were squeezed closed, and his face was twisted into a grimace. As Chandler started to move, his limbs froze, and his eyes sprung open. They flashed silver and gold. Then he started towards the car.

  The boy’s eyes stared through Chandler, and yet, he had a feeling he was seeing a lot more than he thought. Chandler grimaced and pulled the handle to open the door, but it stayed shut fast. He became aware of Rory’s own struggles a second later and looked through the windshield to him. He was trying to squirm himself from under the bashed inside of the car, but his leg was caught on something.

  “Who the hell is he?” Rory demanded. He gave up and slammed his hands against the hood of the car. He tried to grab onto the edge of the window and pull, but Rory’s own strength wasn’t enough to pull his body.

  “I don’t know,” Chandler grunted. He stared down at his hands, and a few seconds later, they curled into claws he used to rip through the material of the roof. He let the broken pieces of car fall around him, and when he finally ripped the metal enough from the inside, he kicked it open and climbed out onto the glass-covered pavement. The car settled into the ground behind him as he stood, spreading his wings wide. The feeling that swept over him as he did was unfamiliar, but he knew he was making his claim. He refused to be threatened on his land.

  The boy hesitated, and Chandler watched cautiously as the colors in his eyes flickered, going from gold and silver to blue. It went on for some time, and Chandler couldn’t bring himself to stop this battle. He watched it raptly until the boy’s eyes blazed silver and gold again. Chandler smiled teasingly in his direction and gestured him forward. He started running. Chandler dived away from the car, stretching his wings to catch a sudden wind. Gliding on the air, he reached the boy before he got remotely close to the car. Chandler gripped the boy’s shirt in his hands, dragged him up high and bringing him up to look directly into his eyes. The gold was harsh and blazing, but in the silver, there was a whispering calm that made Chandler feel vaguely dizzy. One side of the boy’s mouth lifted into a smirk, and Chandler shoved him hard, throwing him further down the road. He landed in a heap and raised his head to look at Chandler, but he didn’t stand back up right away.

  Chandler glanced back to the car to see that Rory had freed himself and had stayed crouched nearby as he watched the two of them. Rory’s eyes flickered, and as if he’d already adjusted his bearing to the dangerous situation, he nodded to Chandler. Chandler gave an infinitesimal nod back. His eyes turned, and the strange boy was one his feet again, respecting the distance Chandler was keeping between him and Rory. As he noticed Chandler’s gaze, he raised his hand and beckoned him forward, mocking his own taunt. Before Chandler even moved, he knew any distance between them was no man’s land. He took a step forward.

  The boy charged, everything about him twisted with concentration. Chandler didn’t move but instead, braced himself and crouched. The boy was a breath away from him when he pulled his fist back and slammed it into his chest.

  The boy flew back to where he’d been only a short time ago, and Chandler was following him quickly, speeding toward the boy yet again. But Chandler pulled himself to a stop and stared down at the boy. He was on his hands and knees, gasping for air. Chandler stared down at him, but the boy didn’t raise his head. Slowly, think that this was some game the boy was playing, he backed away until there was a fair amount of space between them.

  “Ask him who he is,” Rory said. Chandler nodded, not moving his eyes from the figure in front of him. When the boy showed no sign of movement, Chandler looked at Rory.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m—” Rory’s eyes shifted, then widened. “What the hell?”

  Chandler spun back around and saw that the boy was back on his feet. Even from where he stood, Chandler could see that his eyes were back to blue, flickering from Rory to him and back again repeatedly. He was holding two swords, idly swinging them in his hands. Chandler waited for him to advance, but the boy didn’t move.

  Then Chandler blinked.

  When his eyes opened, he was still standing there, but, altogether, he was different... like he was waiting for something. He stood straighter, swords still now as the boy’s hands clenched around the hilts. They were glowing beside the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. As if sensing the attention being paid to the tattoo, the boy twisted his arm, partially hiding it from sight. Chandler looked up. The boy was watching him closely, lips twisted with amusement.

  “Boo.”

  Without thought or warning, Chandler snarled. His teeth lengthened, pressing into his mouth. Warm blood, bitter in taste, rushing from the new wounds and dripped down his chin. The wound healed promptly, and he wiped the blood away. His hands curled and uncurled, unconsciously swaying in the boy’s direction, wanting to grab hold of him as his eyes flashed. The boy stepped back calculatingly, and Chandler followed, a growl rumbling in his chest. He picked up speed, intent on getting at the boy again. Rory started to yell a warning.

  Hard and unyielding, a different body slammed into his side. Growling as he went down, Chandler twisted, wings extending. They beat in the air, keeping his body from slamming into the ground. Turning to see who had attacked him, Chandler saw a girl, dressed in black. A mask covered her face, and her silver braid stretched down her back. She crouched in the middle of the street, paying no attention to the boy who’d moved to the sidewalk, leaning casually as he watched. His face was suspiciously blank, and Chandler knew that he’d been expecting her, whoever she was. He snarled at the both of them, and she came at him again.

  She struck like lightning, but Chandler saw it coming in slow motion. Her arm snaked forward, and her clenched fist struck at his face. He ducked and spun away, feeling his wings move with him, riding the wind. As sensitive as they were, he felt when his wings collided with her swinging braid as he dropped back to the ground. Caught off guard, the girl stared at the wings, eyes wide and unreadable. Chandle
r took his chance and jumped, wings carrying him easily over to her. He kicked her legs from beneath her, and she hit the ground hard, immediately scrambling back. But Chandler shoved her back down, bracing a knee against her chest and pressed his weight down.

  The air on the street stopped blowing abruptly. Chandler’s hand pressed against her throat, feeling her pulse there. Unbidden, he realized that he hadn’t wanted to feel it. What he wanted was to feel nothing; the stillness of death. He wanted to stop the pulse that drummed under his searching fingers.

  He wanted to kill her.

  Her breathing was too light, too fluttery; not human. Chandler pressed his knee down tighter as she struggled. He brought his fist up and smashed it into the side of her head, trying to stun her, but she completely stopped moving, her entire body going limp. Before he could finish what he’d started, rationality rushed his head, reminding Chandler that she wasn’t a danger. He had no reason to do her further harm.

  Growling in frustration, he stood. When he looked back, there was blood in his feathers. Looking away, he made his way back to the car, where it groaned and creaked on the hard ground. Rory reached up, and Chandler grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet.

  “You’re okay?”

  “Max!” the boy shouted abruptly behind them. Chandler and Rory both turned. The boy was running to the girl’s — Max — side. “Come on, Max, wake up.” He bent over her and without the slightest hint of hesitation, pulled the mask from her face. Her eyes were half-mast, staring at the sky.

  “We need to get out of here,” Rory said behind him. Chandler stayed, staring, and didn’t acknowledge his warning. “Chandler!”

  Through the girl’s barely opened eyes, Chandler could see the flare of silver and gold. Around him, sounds dimmed as he walked forward, standing over his attackers. The girl’s eyes were glowing. As he watched, her form wavered, and he saw her muscles; through them, organs. His eyes drifted to her heart where it throbbed pitifully in her chest. Chandler didn’t notice he was moving toward her until he was crouched next to her, across from the boy gazing at him guardedly. He was saying something to Chandler, making no move, but Chandler’s ears were finely tuned to the workings of the body lying on the ground. His hand came up to press against her chest, fingers immediately settling over her heart. It beat strongly against his fingers, and he closed his eyes. Light dripped from his fingers, running over her skin, seeping into her bones and gathering over her slowly beating heart. The organ pumped faster, and the light pressed onward, down to the center where it stopped. There, the light pulsed before it exploded spreading through her veins.

  For a moment, it stayed inside her, and then it soared up as a gasp escaped Chandler’s lips. The light was zinging through her skull, illuminating the blood that pooled there. But the blood began to recede as the light passed, then extinguished itself. There was a loud gasp, followed by broken coughing. Chandler blinked and retreated, removing his hand. He was staring at her black clothes, breathing heavily, and they were all staring at him.

  Chandler stood abruptly and backed away, shoving his hands in his pockets. A hand clapped on his shoulder, and he looked over to face Rory. He was staring at the girl but dragging Chandler back at the same time.

  “We need to go,” he repeated. His hand tightened on Chandler’s shoulder, spinning him away.

  “How did you do that?” the boy asked behind them. Chandler turned to look and was met by her eyes instead; hidden and revealing at the same time.

  “You need to go home,” she murmured, but the voice cut through him. It was in his chest and his head. Go home, she continued, and he stared while the words probed his brain. Never before had he felt invaded, but her voice, speaking to him inside, made it a first. Chandler clenched his teeth and backed away. Rory’s hand came down on his shoulder again, but this time, Chandler turned himself around, and both made their way quickly away from the scene. Passing the overturned car, Chandler gripped Rory’s shirt and took off. Rising higher, Rory cursed, but Chandler only made certain he had a steady grip and kept going. In the distance, he could see a hotel, marked by the billboard above it advertising toothpaste.

  They breezed over the trees, passing miles of forestry that would have taken hours to drive. He only dropped lower when he felt his grip on Rory becoming tentative. The stop allowed them both to rest, but the chill of the passing fall season wouldn’t allow for a long stop. They went on after a time, Chandler ignoring Rory’s half-hearted complaints about being so high up.

  The hotel was within walking distance when Chandler dived down into the trees to place Rory’s feet flat on the ground. He landed next to him, immediately folding his wings. But he cursed when he realized that his jacket, along with the rest of the things that were bought as they drove, was in the back seat of the car, useless to him. Knowing he couldn’t go through the lobby without knowing the number of people he’d have to avoid, he sighed and turned to Rory.

  “You’ll have to go inside and get the room. I’ll wait here and then we can go inside and talk about how we’re going to get back on the road.”

  “The road?” Rory laughed. “We’re not getting back on the road without a car. And mine is busted up on the pavement back there. So, unless we steal one—”

  “I’ll worry about the car, Rory,” Chandler said, clapping him on the shoulder. “But let’s get out of the cold first, yeah?”

  Chapter 5 – Remember

  The sky was clear, and the sun was shining down on the street. Along the street filled with screaming children and barking dogs, parents sat on porches and chatted lazily. The picture of suburban perfection was the smooth paved roads and sidewalks. Green grass shimmered with the late night rain as it blew in the warm breeze. The fitting of the bright houses in the neighborhood was flawless, except for one. The house stood silent, lost in a shadow that seemed to resonate from the foundation itself. The dreary gloom was slithering over the house slowly like a disease. Chandler walked along the sidewalk toward it, an invisible presence among them.

  Chandler walked up the stairs to the porch, his hand reaching for the front door as if it was the place he belonged. But when his skin came in contact with the painted knob, his eyes slid closed of their own accord, and a silent gasp rushed through his teeth.

  He looked down at a woman pushing a baby in a stroller. The baby gazed into the sky, but the woman’s eyes were forward. Chandler was whisked back to the house, seeing the man rocking in his seat in front of a book. Now, he could see what the woman couldn’t; she hadn’t known she was being followed. Her husband sat helplessly in their basement, watching as she was stalked because he’d been afraid, afraid to step foot out of the house and put his family in more danger. He’d known there was no time to make it to them, whether or not he’d decided he was tired of hiding. The man and Chandler watched as oblivious neighbors stopped the woman to say hello or to get a look at the baby.

  The air behind her was clear, but Chandler could see the dark-haired man and the wild woman that followed her. The dark-haired man was watching the baby as he waved his small, pudgy fists in the air. The baby was watching them, too, a smile on his face. Chandler could see the magic that kept them concealed; the soft color drifting on the wind, carrying a nauseating scent that went unnoticed by the baby’s mother.

  The couple following them was unclothed, walking nude in their lost world with a grace that almost made them predators. Their faces had no features. Where their faces should have been was swimming smoke, engulfing them in darkness despite the sunlight.

  “We must take him now before Peter begins to remember,” the dark-haired man hissed. His eyes were locked over the woman’s shoulder, looking down into the large eyes of the little boy who was destined to be his damnation. Chandler’s body began to tremble as his hand clenched the doorknob, but his mind was held a prisoner in this past. He grimaced, and then, he was standing behind the man again, staring down into his book.

  “He’s already remembered. He’s waiting
to see if you will act, but now is not the time,” the wild woman advised calmly.

  “When is the time then, Zafrina?” The dark-haired man turned his fury on her. “We should have killed him when he was born!”

  “Patience is key, Drake.” The wild woman, now named Zafrina, paused and the man in front of Chandler shivered, closing his eyes against the mention of the name. “Have you ever considered that maybe he could be a worthwhile ally? The power that he possesses could be invaluable in Legacy.” Drake studied her as they continued following them, but Chandler’s mind focused on the mention of Legacy. Where had he heard that name before?

  “We can’t let him into Legacy. We could upset the balance.”

  “Then we keep him here,” Zafrina answered.

  “And we stay here with him?”

  “It is the only option.”

  The man and Chandler listened as they grew quiet. The air became almost charged as dark clouds rolled overhead. His wife looked to the sky, confused as the light disappeared. She lifted the hood over the baby’s stroller and looked back in the direction of the house. Then her eyes turned back to the stroller, and she sighed before she turned it around. She started walking, and the man let himself hope, but then chaos erupted around his wife and son. The hood she’d just put up snapped open, and the baby was whisked from his seat as the buckles that were holding him in broke. The man stared in horror as Zafrina clutched the baby in her tight grasp. His wife could only see her son hovering there, and she screamed. The man felt the tears build in his eyes, and he squeezed them closed. He should have known this was coming; that the family he’d built would be taken away, just like all the rest, because of a prophecy that had fallen into his lap. This is all my fault, he thought.

  Chandler stared at the man as he slammed the book closed and dropped his head into his folded arms. As he whispered to his ancestors, Chandler was dragged back to the woman. There was something tickling the back of his mind, telling him the woman and the baby needed to get away. But somehow, he knew these words weren’t meant for him. As he thought, the woman had stopped screaming and was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, eyes wide as she listened.