Cursed Superheroes (Books 1-3)

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Cursed Superheroes (Books 1-3) Page 4

by Jessica Sorensen


  My jaw ticks, my mouth salivating to get closer to him.

  “The last time you came near me, I was dragged away a little later. And then … well, I can’t remember. And then I woke up here with some guy telling me that I died, I’m cursed, and that this is some superhero facility.” I press the palm of my hand to my forehead as an off-pitched laugh spills from my lips. “Oh, my God, this is crazy. I’m going crazy.”

  Cameron gives me a tolerant look as he stops in front of me. “You’re not crazy.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “No, you’re not. And you’ll feel much better once you’ve been fed.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Which is kind of the truth. I’m not hungry. For food, anyway.

  His smirk returns. “Yes, you are.” He grabs my hand and yanks me toward him.

  The hunger inside me builds, an uncontrollable pressure starting in my chest and rising to my lips.

  “How are you going to feed me?” I whisper, dizzy with desire as I clutch the front of his cloak. “You don’t have any food.”

  “Food’s not what you want, sweetheart. And I think you know that.” He draws me closer until our bodies are flushed.

  I slowly sway my head from side to side, my concentration fixated on his lips. “You don’t have anything I want.”

  Instead of getting angry, a cocky grin spreads across his lips. “That’s not true at all.” Then he dips his lips toward my ear, his hot breath spilling across my skin. “Because I’m the Grim Reaper. And guess what, Remi. You have my blood inside you.” When I go rigid, he adds, “How do you think they saved you?”

  Grim Reaper! What the hell is going on! Have I lost my damn mind! Am I dead and this is my own personal hell!

  Tears flood my eyes. Or, at least it seems like tears should be forming. Strangely, my eyes remain dry, a calmness pouring over my body.

  “Now relax,” he whispers. “I’m going to feed you, let you rest, and then you’ll start your training tomorrow.”

  “Training for what?” I can barely pay attention as I turn my face toward his neck.

  Feed.

  Take.

  Feed.

  Take.

  “To learn how to control your powers and turn your curse into something good.” He grazes my earlobe with his teeth. “That is, if you want to. You could always just join me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you always have a choice.”

  “Between what?”

  “Being good and being bad. Personally, I like bad.”

  I want to ask him: if he’s so bad, then why is he here at a superhero facility, helping me? But all questions and thoughts leave my mind as he moves his head in front of mine and seals our lips.

  The instant our mouths connect, a desire rips through me and possesses every inch of my body. I slip my tongue in his mouth and begin to kiss him. Or, more like devour him.

  He kisses me back, pulling me closer until he finally grabs me by the legs and scoops me up in his arms. I hitch my legs around his waist and hold on to him while kissing him with everything I have in me. It’s not just kissing. It’s connecting something. Settling the darkness stirring inside me. Giving in to a desire that’s been burning inside me for longer than I realized.

  The hunger begins to fade as new feelings consume me. Potent feelings that make me want to do awful things. Awful, wonderful, amazingly disturbing things.

  Take souls.

  Steal them.

  Drink them.

  Unsure of what to do, I latch on to him tighter and kiss him fiercely. I haven’t kissed many guys, but he seems to enjoy what I’m doing, letting out a groan as he backs us up somewhere.

  I want to ask him where we’re going, but that would require breaking the kiss, and there’s no way in hell I’m about to do that. So, I keep kissing him, letting him carry me off somewhere, presumably toward the bed. I expect him to lie us down, but instead, he pulls back.

  I whimper in protest. Actually freaking whimper.

  He chuckles, his eyes darkening to a smoky black. “Don’t worry; we’ll get to do that again soon.”

  Nodding, I lean in to kiss him, when a heaviness overcomes my body, and I slump forward.

  “I feel so tired,” I whisper as haziness fills my mind.

  “That’s perfectly normal for your first time drinking souls,” he says, carefully setting me down on the bed.

  “Drinking souls?” I murmur, knowing I should feel alarmed, but I just feel so tired.

  “Go to sleep,” he says in a soft but demanding tone. “You have a long, hard day ahead of you tomorrow. That is, if you choose to be part of the program.” He pulls the blanket over me and kisses my cheek. “Personally, I hope you don’t.”

  I want to ask him why he doesn’t seem to like the program, yet is obviously helping the people in charge. I want to ask him more about the program. I want to ask him so much, but all I end up whispering is, “Do you know who cursed me to begin with?”

  He answers so quietly I barely hear him. “Your parents.”

  Those two words bring me more pain than I’ve ever felt.

  I want to scream at him that he’s wrong, that my parents would never do this to me. That maybe he did this to me. That I want to go home. Back to my friends and my perfect, fake life that I’ve never felt like I belonged in.

  But sleepiness overtakes me and I surrender, wondering what tomorrow will to bring.

  Chapter 7

  I dream of being beaten, of hands on my body, of pain, hurt, agony, of my soul being ripped out, of drinking souls. I dream of my old life, of my parents, my friends. A fake life.

  Everything was fake.

  But that fakeness was stolen from me, and now all I feel is pain.

  Beneath the pain, though, I feel a strength. It’s terrifying how powerful it is. At the same time, it’s invigorating. I don’t know where it comes from. The Grim Reaper blood inside me? If Cameron was telling the truth, then yes.

  Regardless, I know I could do a lot with that kind of strength. Maybe even take over the world.

  I have no desire to do that. No, what I desire may be worse. Still, I want it.

  I want revenge on those who hurt me. And when I wake up, I’m going to do everything in my power to get it.

  Epilogue

  Leader

  “She’s strong,” I say to my colleague as I return to my office. I run my fingers through my white and blue hair before dropping down into a chair. “The power flowing off her …” I shudder, not in fear, but in excitement. “It’s amazing.”

  He leans back in the chair. “You know, I’ve always found it creepy that you could do that—feel power in people.”

  “It’s a gift and a curse.” I don’t embellish, not wanting to talk about it because it’s part of my past. And I hate thinking about my past.

  “A creepy gift and curse.” He leans forward now, resting his arms on his knees. “You think she’ll be ready before the portal opens?”

  “With the right training, yes.”

  “And who’s going to train her?”

  “I’ve arranged for someone.” Again, I don’t embellish. If he knew that I’m allowing the Grim Reaper to train her, he’d flip the fuck out.

  Honestly, I don’t blame him. The Grim Reaper is the sort of creature we have to worry about coming out of the portal and destroying the city. But he’s is probably the only one who can teach Remi how to harness, control, and use all her powers. Plus, I know the Reaper from my past. I can trust him with this.

  I hope.

  He eyes me over with a hint of suspicion. “As long as it’s being taken care of.”

  “It is,” I assure him, resting back in my chair.

  “So, what’s next?” he asks. “Or, should I say who?”

  I take a look in my folder at the next candidate’s name. “Heartley Halilton. Her curse is expected to be collected within the next three days.”

  He thrums his fingers against his legs. “Do we have
someone keeping an eye on her?”

  “Yeah, I’ve sent out a few agents.” Not true at all. Like with Remi, I sent out the leader of the paranormal creature whose blood will be put inside her. That creature will also be her trainer.

  He nods. “And what’s this one going to be?”

  A smile touches my lips. “A Maddening.”

  His brows dip. “A Maddening? Why haven’t I heard of that before?”

  “Because they’re very rare. But very powerful.”

  Intrigue flashes across his expression. “What can they do?”

  “They can create madness in anyone and anything they touch.”

  He looks appalled. “Good God, that sounds fucking awful.”

  “It is. But you don’t need to worry. Once she’s trained, she won’t use her power on anything or anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

  The horror remains in his eyes. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing. If this gets out of hand … it could be disastrous.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen,” I promise. “I have this under control.”

  I just hope I’m right. I hope I can keep control of my superheroes and their trainers. Otherwise, the world may be in even more trouble.

  Maddening

  (Cursed Superheroes, #2)

  Maddening

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without the permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Created with Vellum

  Prologue

  Leader

  “Sir, I have news about the portal,” my intern says as he steps into my office.

  I lean back in the chair, overlapping my hands. “From your tone, I’m guessing it’s not good news.”

  He nervously edges farther into my office, adjusting the stack of manila folders he’s carrying. “I’m afraid not.” He sets the folders down on my desk beside stacks of research data I still need to read through. “It looks like not one portal is opening, but three.”

  A nervous edge creeps up inside me, but I maintain a professionally calm demeanor. “Three you say?” I ask, and he nods. “And how did you obtain this knowledge?”

  “From my paranormal airwaves data.” He fumbles to retrieve a map from one of the folders, along with a paranormal airwaves measuring device, which is known around the facility as a PAM. Then he opens the map, which ends up being a map of the city, and spreads it across my desk. “My PAM has been showing frequent spikes in high frequency paranormal airwaves here, here, and here.” He points to three small, hand drawn circles on the map. “At first, I thought perhaps it was from an underground paranormal lair or club, so I sent a few agents to scope out the areas. They reported that no lairs or clubs were located at any of these places.” He sets his PAM down in front of me to show me the airwave measuring charts, which are unsettlingly high.

  In fact …

  “These are the highest frequencies I’ve ever seen,” I mutter as I assess the data. “Are you sure these are correct?”

  He nods nervously. “I checked them six times.”

  My nervous edge turns into a troubling uneasiness, but I’ve always been great at appearing calm, even in the midst of chaos, something I can thank my past for. “Well then, I think you’re right. Three portals are going to open underneath the city. But we have no idea when, or what, will come out of two of them. Or what dimensions they’ll lead to.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you, sir,” he says. “I thought portals led to the paranormal dimension?”

  I shake my head, trying not to be frustrated. But interns drive me crazy sometimes. “Not all portals lead to the paranormal dimension. There’s the Underworld portal, the Afterlife, and the Wasteland. And those are just a few of them.” I tap the largest circle on the map. “The only reason we know where this one leads to is because I, along with five of my best researching specialists, have spent over six months researching the area, measuring data, and sorting through historical artifacts.” And forming my own team of paranormals to protect the area for when the portal opens, but he can’t know about that. Only my closest colleagues can; otherwise, we risk people and creatures finding out what we’re doing. And I don’t want anyone knowing until the time is right. Until my team is trained and ready to fight. And so far, I only have one member of the team. A half-Grim Reaper, who can barely control her soul thirst, let alone take on an army of deadly paranormal creatures.

  “Thanks for the information,” I tell my intern. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make some phone calls.”

  Nodding, he leaves my office and closes the door.

  I pick up my phone and call the person in charge of my next project, the one for recruiting a Maddening.

  He answers after four rings, sounding very irritated, but that’s a Maddening for you.

  “What do you want?” Caspian asks dryly. “Wait, let me guess. You’re checking in. Again.”

  “Sorry, but I need to make sure everything is going according to plan. She’s changing tonight, after all.” I use a polite tone only because Maddenings are one of the few paranormal creatures that unsettle me deeply.

  Their touch doesn’t kill or steal your soul. No, these creatures are worse than death. One touch can drive a person’s mind to the brink of insanity and keep them locked there forever.

  “I’m standing in front of her place right now,” Caspian replies with a hint of irritation. “And like I’ve said a hundred times, I’ll call you when I have her. It doesn’t do any good, or make the process any quicker, for you to call me every damn hour.”

  “I understand that,” I say as patiently as I can. “I just want to make sure she’s not alone when her curse is collected.”

  “She won’t be,” he assures. “Although, it probably wouldn’t be that much of a difference from how she’s lived her entire life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, her parents have kept her locked in a cage for almost all her life.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “I went to a bar and chatted with her sister about it,” he says. “You know, humans can be quite chatty when they’re drunk. It’s strange and completely confusing.”

  “That’s because you’re not human.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  I restrain an exhausted sigh. “I’m still confused over why her parents would lock her up. Her powers haven’t manifested yet. They shouldn’t have since we haven’t injected her with your blood yet.”

  “They are the ones who got her cursed to begin with,” he says. “And, according to the sister, a Shadow Teller was present when the girl was cursed and warned the parents of what she would become. In fact, I think the girl herself believes she already possesses some terrible deathly touch.”

  “So, what, just because some Shadow Teller told a prophecy of her become a Maddening one day, they locked her away in a cage for all her life?” I don’t get upset or disgusted very often, but her story hits too close to home.

  “Aw, does the professor of experiments actually have a heart?” Mockery dances in his tone.

  “I’ve always had a heart. I just usually choose not to let it control me.” I thrum my fingers on the top of my desk, thinking. “Be careful with this mission, Caspian. If what you say is true, then
she probably hasn’t touched another human in a long time. Or interacted with many.”

  “Yeah, so what? You act like that’s going to be a problem.”

  “She might be hard to handle. She might freak out when you try to take her, or she might be happy about finally having contact with another. And we both know how you can react to an overly happy person.”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ve handled worse.”

  “Just be careful, okay?” I practically beg. “And make sure to let the curse play through. Without it, this won’t work.”

  “I understand what I’m supposed to do.” His annoyance grows. “I don’t need you to repeat it every time we talk.”

  I internally sigh. “All right. Just be careful and call me when you’re ready to bring her in.”

  “Okay.” He hangs up.

  I let out a sigh, hoping upon hope everything goes smoothly. Without my superhero Maddening, my team won’t be complete and the world could be doomed.

  Chapter 8

  I’m locked in a cage in a room hidden beneath an old Victorian house, a place I’ve called home for fifteen years.

  I’m not a prisoner. I choose to stay inside the iron bar cage, to protect the world from what I could become, at least according to my parents. And it’s something worse than death.

  Despite the stories of me turning into an evil creature, I’m still a normal girl. Just one who’s been warned never to touch anyone. If I do, they won’t survive. I’m a killer of everything.

  I should be dead. If I had my choice, I would be. But after our parents passed away, I promised my older sister I’d stick around so she wouldn’t be left alone in the world.

  Sometimes, I question my choice. Like today, which has been a maddeningly silent and lonely day.

  Peering through the iron bars, I check the time then the date on the calendar. Oh, will you look at that? Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday.

 

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