Curse Touched: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (A Touch of Vampire Book 2)

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Curse Touched: A Paranormal Vampire Romance (A Touch of Vampire Book 2) Page 8

by Becky Moynihan


  My feet were glued to the spot, stark panic setting in as he stretched out his hand toward me. “Whoa, wait wait wait,” I rushed to say, leaning away from him. “What if I take too much? What are the side effects? Are you sure this is safe?”

  He flicked a glance at the headmistress, which only heightened my nerves. “I’ll need time to replenish my magic, but a bit of food and rest should do the trick. No harm, no foul.”

  Nervous laughter burst out of me. “Yeah, that’s not reassuring for some reason.”

  “Just do it,” someone impatiently shouted.

  “Do it!” several others chorused, until a chant went up.

  I hugged myself hard, wishing I was anywhere but here.

  Wishing Lochlan would swoop in and rescue me.

  I bit my quivering lip and banished the impossible thought. This was my world now. Magic and witches and freaky foretellings. And if I was going to survive it, I had to stand on my own two feet.

  So, before any more fear could overtake me, I uncrossed my arms and grabbed Noah’s outstretched hand. Heat immediately engulfed my palm and fingers. Recalling Peyton’s pain when we’d touched, I tried to snatch my hand away. Noah held on fast, just like she had.

  The heat intensified and a red glow smoldered between our joined skin. I shot him a panicked look and tugged harder. He set his mouth in a grim line and shook his head, pulling me closer.

  No, no, no!

  I dug my heels in, but the soles slipped on the grass. Locking an arm around my waist, he pressed me firmly against him, taking away my ability to yank my hand free.

  Sweat broke out on my forehead, slithering down my spine as warmth cascaded through me. I met Noah’s stormy blue gaze, silently pleading with him to let go. I was hurting him. Somehow, I just knew that I was.

  “Wait,” he said tightly. “Just wait.”

  Wind gusted around us, whipping hair across my face and his. Billowing tendrils of red completely engulfed our hands and I clenched my teeth, expecting the heat to become unbearable. But as the seconds passed, it remained a steady thrum beneath my skin, like basking in a hot tub.

  Noah suddenly grunted and stepped back. His touch slid away and our hands fell apart. My legs wobbled, but I locked my knees, refusing to embarrass myself in front of all these people.

  After a moment, the wind died, and my ragged breaths evened out.

  It was only then that I realized the crowd had gone silent. Forty-plus faces gawked at me, staring like I was a body-snatching alien.

  Then, someone slowly clapped, startling me. “Beautiful,” Headmistress Mayweather said, her expression filled with wonder. She approached, and I held still while she circled me. “How do you feel?”

  I blinked, focusing on my trembling hands. How did I feel? “I feel . . .”

  Nervous. Overwhelmed. Afraid.

  Rejuvenated. Wired. Alive.

  “Great,” I simply replied, looking at Noah. At the sight of his ashen complexion, guilt wormed inside me. I couldn’t help but remember Malcolm’s earlier comparison, about Syphon’s being leeches. I opened my mouth to ask if he was all right, but the headmistress spoke before I could.

  “After all these years of doing without, you must be starved for magic. Which is why the spell on your first bracelet must have worn thin,” she mused, pausing to assess me. After a moment, she nodded and smiled as though happy with what she saw. “Well, your days of restriction are over. It’s time you embrace who you are. Your training begins today.”

  “Wait, training? Like what kind of training?”

  “Think of it as muscle conditioning. Your connection to magic is weak from lack of use. In order to strengthen it, you need exercise.” She turned to the rest of the class, her voice rising as she addressed them all. “Who will partner with Kenna?”

  Everyone appeared to be as shocked as I was. No one raised their hand.

  When the silence stretched, Noah cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Maybe she should train with me until—”

  “And what would the students learn from that?” Clarice interrupted crisply, pinning him with a cool look. “You saw them earlier in the locker room. A lesson must be taught here, as I’m sure you would agree.”

  His lips thinned, but he didn’t back down like I thought he would. “These are my students. Their safety is my concern, and I don’t think Kenna is ready to train with them.”

  As Clarice’s eyes narrowed, I tensed, expecting her to give him a tongue-lashing in front of his class. Apparently, so did Noah. Despite his sallow complexion, he straightened to his full height, puffing out his chest.

  But she suddenly turned to me.

  “What do you think, Kenna? Are you ready to train with your peers?”

  My mouth fell open.

  Oh. Crap.

  My first instinct was to say no and ask for my bracelet back—or a pair of gloves, at least. I had no freaking clue what this borrowed—more like stolen—magic inside me would do. Someone could get seriously hurt, including me.

  But when I heard snickering, and peeked to see where it was coming from, my brain emptied of all uncertainty. “Sure,” I said, speaking loud enough for the students in back to hear. “But I’d like to choose my partner, if that’s okay.”

  At my unexpected request, Clarice looked pleasantly surprised. Noah, on the other hand, subtly shook his head in silent warning. Before I could reconsider my decision though, the headmistress said, “Of course. Name the student and you’ll spend the next hour training with them.”

  I gulped, but didn’t hesitate as I zeroed in on a head of black, springy curls and blurted, “I choose Jordan Holt.”

  8

  KENNA

  I’m screwed, I’m screwed, I’m screwed.

  The explosion knocked me clean off my feet. I flew through the air before crashing to the ground in a tangle of bruised limbs.

  “Still glad you picked me?” Jordan called as I groaned, gingerly probing my throbbing hip bone.

  I wasn’t. I was regretting the decision with every fiber of my aching body, but I wouldn’t let her know that.

  Gritting my teeth, I rose without comment, pointlessly brushing dirt and grass from my stained outfit. I’d soon discovered that as an Earth Elemental, Jordan was highly attuned with nature. With a flick of her wrist, she could summon roots from the ground, which was how she’d easily taken me down.

  Several times.

  “You have cosmic energy, Kenna, which means you literally have the universe at your fingertips. Draw on the sun’s power to block her strikes,” Noah said from the sidelines, pacing rather nervously as if he wanted to call an end to this match. He didn’t though, not with Headmistress Mayweather on the outskirts overseeing his class—or me, more accurately.

  Yeah. Okay, sure. I’ll get right on that, I wanted to tell Noah sarcastically. But taking my eyes off Jordan for even a second to acknowledge him would be a mistake.

  Her blows were vicious, and she struck without mercy. No one intervened though. Several students had paused in their own training to watch the unfair match, boldly cheering Jordan on. I could see their skepticism toward me.

  They didn’t think I was a Syphon.

  Even after the glowing red light display, I could hear snatches of conversation, of doubt about who I was. Couldn’t really blame them. I was sort of pathetic, as far as witches went. No matter how hard I’d tried to conjure my borrowed magic for the last hour, not a single thing had happened. All they saw was a powerless girl getting thrown around like a ragdoll.

  “Give up,” Jordan said quietly, having approached while I caught my breath. “Admit defeat before I embarrass you further.” Our gazes clashed, and I realized then what her intent was. Payback. She wanted to see me humiliated the way she’d been this morning in Headmistress Mayweather’s office.

  I pursed my lips, shaking my head. “Not gonna happen.”

  She huffed a dry laugh. “Have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Bef
ore I could straighten, I was airborne again, savagely jerked off my feet by something clamped around my ankle. As I dangled upside down in midair, several students laughed boisterously at my predicament. The blood rushed to my head, my embarrassment complete.

  What felt like a thin root coiled tighter around my ankle, grinding against the bone. I bit my tongue, refusing to let Jordan hear my distress. Her gloating face appeared before me as she basked in her victory. “Concede and I’ll set you free,” she said, lazily twisting her green-glowing hand. The root responded to her command, twirling me in a circle.

  “No,” I ground out when I was facing her again.

  Her expression flattened. “Do it or who knows. You might slip and—oops—fall on your head.”

  I snorted. “Seriously? That’s the best you can do?”

  Why the freaking crap was I goading this girl?

  With a devilish smirk and flick of her wrist, she yanked me higher into the air. Then dropped me. I sucked in a scream and braced for impact as the ground came up fast. A split second from eating dirt, the root wound around my ankle again, jerking me to a halt. Pain streaked up my leg and I furiously blinked back tears.

  Jordan let me dangle for a moment, then thrust me several feet into the air again, clearly toying with me.

  I knew I should tell her to stop. I knew I should concede.

  But the longer she played with me, the angrier I became. And the angrier I became, the more alive I felt. Not just from the adrenaline, fear, and pain, but from a foreign energy that was practically sizzling in my veins. I let it build. I let it grow until it began to feel corporeal. Like I could reach inside myself, and . . .

  The root unraveled and I plummeted toward the ground.

  Caught off guard, I didn’t brace correctly. My entire weight landed on my left wrist. I heard the snap as I thudded to the earth, the wind completely knocked out of me. Searing pain hit. Unable to suppress it, a scream tore from my lungs. I cradled my injured limb close, all thoughts of humiliation fleeing my mind.

  “Noah, get Kenna to the infirmary,” I heard the headmistress say from somewhere above me. “Jordan, clean up this mess. I mean it. Not a speck of grass out of place. Class is dismissed for the day.”

  A hand touched my back and I stiffened.

  “Let me help you up,” Noah said, and I accepted his assistance. But even through the pain and tears, I saw how he avoided directly touching my skin. My heart sank.

  I really was a leech.

  I didn’t look at anyone while we made our way back inside. Thankfully, the infirmary was on this side of the massive building. Made sense, since I assumed injuries were a commonplace thing in the Defensive Arts class. Or maybe it was just me. Me and my stupid pride.

  “You did good,” Noah said from beside me, his expression tight-lipped. “You didn’t cower or give up. Witches respect strength.”

  I didn’t reply, too focused on supporting my throbbing wrist to care what anyone thought.

  A few minutes later, we pushed through a set of doors and entered a clean, brightly-lit space. Partitions and cots lined both walls, most of which were empty. From a desk to the right, a woman glanced up at our arrival. Upon seeing Noah, she waved us on without comment.

  “Come here often with injured students?” I muttered, giving him a bemused look.

  His lips twisted wryly. “A time or two. The nurses know that I like to take care of the injuries myself, if I’m able to.” He motioned for me to sit on a cot covered in a white sheet, then proceeded to wheel over a cart laden with colorful glass bottles.

  I settled onto the cot’s edge, confused when he selected a dark blue bottle and popped the cork to sniff its contents. “Uh . . . what is that stuff?”

  “Sano, a fast-healing potion. Let’s see your wrist.” He held out his hand, then seemed to remember who I was and dropped it.

  Hurt pricked my chest, which was stupid, since I completely understood why he didn’t want to touch me. Sighing, I carefully straightened my arm so he could see the injury.

  He grimaced. “Definitely broken.” Reaching for a stack of plastic cups on the top tray, he poured an inch of dark liquid into one. “This should fix you right up.”

  He handed the cup to me and I took it gingerly, sniffing at the contents. And instantly recoiled, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “This smells like vomit.”

  With a snort, he leaned against the wall. “Tastes like it too.”

  “Ew! What are the ingredients?”

  He cocked a brow. “Sure you want to know?”

  “Um, not really. But tell me anyway.”

  He started ticking the ingredients off on his fingers, continuing even when my face leached of color. “Toe of frog, wool of bat, tongue of dog, adder’s fork, blind-worm, lizard’s leg, owlet’s wing.”

  “What the freaking crap, Noah? You want me to drink this stuff?” I barely restrained myself from chucking the cup at his head.

  He pressed his lips together, but I clearly heard him snicker. Snicker. At my furious look, he held up his hands. “Sorry, insider’s joke. They’re just herbs, roots, and plants. Contrary to popular belief, body parts aren’t needed to brew potions. Wool of bat, for example, is holly leaves.” When I continued to glare suspiciously, he added, “Promise. There’s no baby fingers or virgin skin mixed in there. And we don’t perform hexes or any level of black magic at this school.”

  “Hexes? Hexes are real?”

  “How do you think the vampires were cursed a century ago?” he drawled sarcastically.

  “I don’t know,” I spluttered, feeling both frustrated and stupid. “I’m new to all this supernatural stuff. It still seems so unreal.”

  He rubbed a hand over his mouth, his expression growing thoughtful. “Tell you what. Drink every last drop of that Sano, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  My jaw dropped. “For freakin’ real?”

  Grabbing a nearby wooden chair, he straddled it and rested his forearms on the back. “Abso-freaking-lutely.”

  Well, that settled it. “If I grow two heads after this, I will hunt you down,” I warned him, holding my breath as I placed the cup to my lips. Despite his snickering response, I downed the liquid in one go, almost spewing it across the room as the taste hit my tongue. Fighting with my gag reflex, I barely managed to swallow the pungent stuff.

  I exhaled a ragged breath, immediately sucking in another as the liquid speared down my throat like ice. I could actually feel it, feel it, as the potion traveled through my body. Less than a minute later, it slipped down my arm to my wrist. Acting like a numbing agent, the frozen liquid submerged the broken bone completely before I felt something shift. When I realized it was my bone that was moving, slowly sliding back into place where it belonged, I gaped up at Noah in pure shock.

  He shrugged. “You’ll find there are many perks to being a witch.”

  I focused on my healing wrist again, wishing I could believe that statement. So far though, the witch part of me had brought nothing but suffering.

  “So. What do you want to know?” Noah said when the pain had all but melted away.

  A million different things. So much that I didn’t know where to start.

  “There was this witch. A friend of my mother’s,” I found myself saying, unsure why I was telling Noah about her, other than the fact that he was also a Cosmic and had grown up in Rosewood. “She was the one who discovered that I was a Syphon and gave me the spelled charm bracelet. I guess what I’m asking is, did you know her before she died? She knew my parents while they lived in Rosewood, and . . . I’m just hoping for information about them. Anything at all. My aunt—well, I don’t know if what she’s told me about them is true. If anything she told me is.”

  While I spoke, Noah had grown more and more still. So still that I couldn’t see him breathing.

  “Noah?” I questioned with a frown, when all he did was stare at me.

  As if waking from a trance, he quickly blinked, then shot a look behind hi
m before fixing me with a hard stare. “Do you know the witch’s name?”

  “Josephine. Apparently, she was a powerful Cosmic witch.”

  Noah’s face paled.

  Alarmed, I leaned forward. “What? Noah, what is it?”

  He suddenly raised a brightly glowing hand and murmured, “Sana obstructionum.”

  My alarm grew. “Was that a sound-blocking spell? Why do we need a—?”

  “Because I’ve never told anyone what I’m about to say,” he interrupted, facing his chair forward. All seriousness now, he propped his elbows onto his knees. “Fifteen years ago, when I was only six, I saw something I shouldn’t have. There was this family my parents were friends with—a husband, wife, and daughter. Isla and I were never allowed to play with the little girl though.

  “Anyway, on the day of the girl’s third birthday, my mom drove Isla and me over to their house to drop off a present. It was early, because I remember eating a Cheerio breakfast in the car. When we arrived, my mom freaked out. She got out of the car, but quickly returned. I remember her hands were smeared red as she called someone. Then we took off, the present for the girl still on the seat beside me.

  “But as the car reversed down the driveaway, I happened to look out the window and saw something I’ve never been able to forget.”

  “What? What did you see?” I whispered, dread gnawing a hole through my gut.

  His throat bobbed as he answered quietly, “Two bodies, lying prone in the snow. Covered in blood.”

  Oh fates.

  “Soon after,” he continued, “my parents told me the family died in a plane crash. I was so young that it didn’t take much for me to believe I’d dreamt up the murder scene. But I’ve never forgotten. And I’ve always wondered what really happened to that little girl.”

  “W-why?” I said, my voice shaking. “Why are you telling me this?”

  But I already knew. I knew what he was going to say. I needed to hear it though. I needed to know the truth.

  “Because my mother Josephine was a powerful Cosmic witch who specialized in spelling objects,” he replied. “And I think the little girl whose parents were murdered was you.”

 

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