“Coming!” I try to shout, but smoke and heat sear my throat, and I only cough the word.
Connolly’s hand tightens on mine, and when I stumble, my lungs scorching, he scoops me up, ignoring my protests. He charges through the open doorway.
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” a voice rumbles. “Such chivalry.”
It’s Hector, standing in the next room. Smoke swirls around him, never touching, leaving him clear-eyed and calm.
When Connolly barrels past, Hector doesn’t stop him. Steps aside even . . . and we see the exit engulfed in flames. Connolly spins with me still in his arms, and I point at another doorway, this one leading into an untouched room. At a lazy wave of Hector’s arm, fire fills it. Outside, Ani’s screaming for me, but they can’t get to us.
“There’s a cost to passing,” Hector says. “I think you know what it is.”
“She uncursed the necklace,” Connolly says. “If you want the empty shell, it’s back in there.”
As he speaks, he bumps me with his hip. His hip pocket. Where he put the necklace. He adjusts his grip on me, leaving me in his arms . . . which also covers me as I slide out the necklace and clutch the bundle in my hand.
Hector’s speaking. He’s saying he heard me scream, knows I grabbed the necklace, knows I wouldn’t bother if it was uncursed. His voice is calm, unhurried. After all, we’re the ones coughing and sputtering as we inhale deadly smoke. If we want to stall, that’s our prerogative.
Connolly does exactly that, arguing while I work on the unweaving. I touch the necklace with my finger. A warning voice screams that I don’t have my protective herbs, but I can’t worry about that.
I hear the curse. I see where I left off. I continue unraveling—
Connolly coughs, and it’s not a little hack, it’s a doubling-over wheezing cough that tells me he’s inhaled too much smoke. I struggle to get down, but he only grips me harder.
Faster. Must work faster.
Faster is dangerous.
I don’t have a choice.
I unweave as fast as I can. I’m almost there when Connolly staggers. He takes a balancing step and trips. It’s then that I remember his earlier luck working. The backlash. I’d forgotten all about that. Quickly, I grasp his hand, hoping to transfer some of that bad luck to me, but Connolly collapses, and as I twist and grab for him, the necklace falls. Hector lets out a rumbling chuckle of triumph.
Connolly is lying on his back, unconscious, possibly dying from smoke inhalation, and that bastard only sees his necklace.
My hand slams down on the necklace. My bare hand. My skin touches the gold, and my entire body convulses, as if with an electric shock, as the curse passes into me.
I grip the necklace, hard as I can, and I don’t even need to focus—that bare-skin touch lets me hear the music right away. The curse holds on by a thread, and I rip it away, no time for caution.
The music stops.
The necklace is uncursed.
Hector grabs my collar and hoists me into the air. I twist and whip the necklace toward the door.
“It’s outside!” I shout to the others. “Someone get it!”
Hector drops me and lumbers toward the door. At a wave of his hand, the flames dissipate. I don’t see what happens. I don’t need to. The way is open, and Connolly needs to get outside. Now.
I grab him under the arms. I’ve hauled him halfway to the door when Jonathan and Ani charge through. Jonathan takes over, and Ani catches me before I collapse, my lungs giving way in a fit of coughing.
Outside, Marius and Hector face off, the necklace on the ground between them. There’s no sign of Havoc or her guards. There’s a hose and a dropped bucket, as if Ani, Jonathan and Marius had found water and been preparing our rescue.
I brush off Ani and let myself collapse to all fours, gulping clean air until I can manage a raspy, “It’s uncursed. I finished it. Just let him have it.”
Hector turns my way, not seeming to have heard me. Marius swoops in, grabbing the necklace. I don’t see what happens then—I’m crawling to Connolly, who’s flat on his back, unconscious. Jonathan is rescue breathing into Connolly’s mouth. When I reach them, there’s nothing I can do. Jonathan has this. He’s the expert. I can only watch and pray—
I stop short and turn to see Marius backing away from Hector, who’s advancing on him.
“Marius!” I shout.
He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“Ares!”
His head whips my way. Hector charges. Marius feints.
“We need a little luck!” I shout. Then I glance at Connolly. “A lot of luck. Please!”
Marius sees Connolly as if for the first time. He yanks the necklace from his pocket and whips it as far as he can. Hector lurches after it, and Marius runs to us.
“Keep going,” Marius says to Jonathan. “I can provide luck, but not miracles.”
While Jonathan continues the rescue breathing, Marius closes his eyes, and every muscle in his body seems to quiver with exertion. There’s a wave of energy, so strong the air audibly crackles.
Nothing happens.
Connolly lies motionless, his face as still and pale as marble.
Then he coughs.
I scramble to Connolly and help him sit up. I kneel beside him, supporting him, and whispering that we did it—we uncursed the necklace, and we’re fine. We’re all fine.
That is a lie. A lie he needs. A lie I need, because the truth is that when the curse broke, I felt nothing. The weight of it still lies in my chest. It’s a small thing, though, compared to this: Connolly is alive.
“Sir?” a voice says.
We turn to see the guard who’d betrayed Havoc.
“I . . . I thought you might want these.” He lowers a bag of cell phones to the ground and backs up, bowing and then dropping to one knee, and there is something chilling in the gesture. It’s an offering. Placating an angry god.
Marius’s lip curls in obvious distaste. This isn’t what he wants, this obeisance. It might serve him well right now, but he’d rather the man just returned the phones as one person helping another, doing the right thing.
An imperious wave from Marius sends the man tripping over himself to back away as Marius picks up the bag. He passes out our phones. Immediately, my screen lights up with missed messages. I hit the one I want, a voicemail from an unknown number. A voice crackles from my phone, high and sweet.
“Hey, it’s Hope! Guess what? Rian and I got away. We’re fine, just hanging out in a coffee shop. Give us a shout when you get this!”
Tears fill my eyes. Then I turn to Connolly, lift the phone and replay the message and watch his face light up.
Chapter Forty-Seven
A half hour later, we’re in the downtown core of some small city whose name I’ve already forgotten. All that matters is that my sister is here, chilling in a coffee shop with Connolly’s brother.
There’s a no-stopping lane in front of the shop. While Jonathan finds a proper parking spot, Connolly pulls in there and hits his emergency flashers. It’s like the gas station all over again, and I’m out before the vehicle has come to a complete stop. This time, I don’t have a moment of worry that my sister isn’t here. I can see her at a table in the front window, sipping some frozen concoction and laughing at something Rian’s saying. Then she sees me, and she flies from the table. Rian motions that they’ll come outside, and I’m bouncing on my toes when that door opens. Hope doesn’t make it two steps before I’ve caught her up in a bear hug.
“Is that smoke?” she says, nose wrinkling. “What’d you do, fall into a campfire again?”
“Are those seriously your first words, Hopeless? You were kidnapped. Twice.”
She shrugs. “It was no big deal. The first time I was treated like a princess. A little less princess-worthy in round two, but a few bats of my lashes and I was out, thanks to that beauty curse.”
“Hey, it was more than a few bats of your lashes,” Rian says. “That took serious acting sk
ills.”
She smiles at him. “And a bit of luck.”
He shrugs. “You had it under control. And then there was that punch.” He looks at me. “Your sister is awesome.”
Hope glows, and when she looks at Rian, I may detect an eyelash bat or two. Great. My sister is crushing on her captivity-mate.
“So what’s with the fire damage?” Hope says.
“They escaped a burning building,” Ani says as she walks over with Jonathan. “And still found time to grab that necklace and uncurse your ass, little sister.”
Hope throws herself into Ani’s arms. We stand outside that shop and talk until we’ve gotten enough side-eye from passersby that Connolly suggests we continue the conversations elsewhere. Vanessa has offered her place for a rest stop before we journey home. We agree that’s wise and pile into cars.
So Hope is fine. In the end, she saved herself, and she’ll be flying high on that for a long time. Her curses are gone, too. All of them. Youth and beauty, which she didn’t need, and the rest of it, too. When I unwove the curse, it unwrapped its tendrils from my sister, and that’s what counts.
As for me?
Well, I don’t need to worry about balancing after uncursing the necklace. The curse isn’t gone. I no longer feel the lump of the curse curled in my gut, but that only means the snake has burrowed in, becoming part of me. I’m cursed. I felt it enter. I did not feel it leave. Hope and Ani can see it in me, and Ani has vowed to find a way to uproot it, but I know that won’t happen. The necklace is uncursed, and there’s nothing more to be done.
I’ve already joked that it’s like the ultimate guardian for my heart—no one unworthy may enter. It’s more than that. I feel the truth of the curse in my soul. Yes, woe to those who pretend to love me, but it’s more all-encompassing than that. If I fall for the wrong person, someone who can’t love me back, we’ll both suffer.
My sister is fine, though. Connolly is alive and well. Rian is fine. Marius even has the necklace—Hector threw it down in a fit of rage when he sensed that the curse was gone. So we all came out of this as unscathed as we could have hoped.
The rest? That little part that isn’t perfect? I’ll deal with it. I’ll have to.
It’s been three days since I got more than a few hours’ sleep, and I barely manage to shed my smoke-steeped clothing before I tumble into Vanessa’s spare bed. A half hour later, I’m awake and lying there, listening to Ellie and Hope’s soft snores beside me. I give it another ten minutes, but my body has acquired the exact minimum amount of rest it needed, and my brain says there’ll be time to sleep after all this is over. Time when I’ll be alone in my apartment with Ellie, thinking of all the things I wish I could have said when I had the chance.
I slip out and find the clothing I arrived in two days ago, somehow washed and folded and waiting for me, along with a tray holding every toiletry a guest could want. I make quick use of it, including the tiny pot of under-eye concealer—thank-you, Vanessa!
As I step from the guest wing, voices waft from the courtyard’s open door, and I glance through to see Ani and Jonathan deep in conversation. I finger-wave, but they don’t notice me. When they’re talking like that, the rest of the world falls away. I remember how many times I’d watched them with envy. That’s what I wanted with a guy. Not surface conversation, skating over topics of vaguely shared interest, always aware of potential judgment, always trying to make a good impression without revealing too much.
I have that idealized level of comfort with my family and with female friends, but never with a guy—even in friendship there always seems to be an unspoken barrier. I caught glimpses of that possibility with Connolly. Perhaps mirages shimmering with misguided hope. Or maybe a glimmer of something real.
I leave Ani and Jonathan, and I cover a few more steps before I hear another couple in conversation. I pass a doorway to see Vanessa and Marius on the divan. He’s reclining just like when I first saw him. This time, though, there’s none of that bored insouciance. He’s on his back with his head on Vanessa’s lap, and they’re as rapt in each other as Ani and Jonathan. Their conversation is more relaxed, though, words intertwining like melodies.
Will getting the necklace end their “break”? I have no idea, and I’m not sure it matters. Whatever their sleeping arrangements, they are a couple, in all the best ways. Marius didn’t want the necklace to win her back. He wanted it because she needed it.
I continue on without stopping. I’m looking for someone else, and I don’t want to get sidetracked. When I’d been stumbling toward the bedroom earlier, Connolly had said something about needing to speak to his parents, that I’d find him in the study if I couldn’t sleep. I should have taken that as a hint that he wanted to talk, but I’d been too exhausted.
Kind of like our first night here, when he’d showed up with wine, hoping to talk. Talk about the situation, he’d said, and in my disappointment, I’d withdrawn. I regret that now. Connolly hadn’t showed up at my bedroom door to discuss a situation we’d discussed to death already. He’d simply wanted to spend more time together, and he hadn’t known how to say so. If I’d doubted that, the dream Vanessa “sent” us proves it. That was the real Aiden Connolly, the one stifled under restraint and formality.
When I reach the study door, though, I can hear him still talking to his parents. I interrupted that once; I won’t do it again.
I’ll make him a coffee. Dig up a treat for the side—I’d spotted biscotti the other day. A coffee and a cookie. A seemingly impersonal present, but it says I know how much he loves his coffee and sweets—and how much he’ll want them after that talk with his parents.
I’m still smiling a few minutes later as I wait for the coffee to brew. When footsteps sound at the doorway, I glimpse a figure that looks like Connolly. My smile grows . . . until I see Rian’s dark hair.
“Wow,” he says as he walks in. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been less happy to see me.”
“Sorry, I thought—”
“—I was Aiden. I know. I’m sure he’s gotten the same reaction many times, people mistaking him for me.”
“Ego runs in the family, doesn’t it?”
He grins. “Connollys are very aware of their many blessings. Some of us use them to build a million-dollar start-up. And some of us use them to start up the motors of a million girls.”
He waggles his brows, and I can’t help but smile even as I shake my head. I turn back to making coffee.
“I suck at entrepreneurship,” he says. “And Aiden sucks at relationships. We play to our strengths. I try to overcome my weaknesses, which led to this whole mess. But at least I try. My brother? Not so much. It’s business, business, and more business. He walks into a party and doesn’t even notice the gauntlet of women checking him out because all he sees are the networking opportunities.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I add a dollop of cream to Aiden’s coffee.
“What I’m trying to say is . . .” Rian throws up his hands. “Oh, hell. I’m here to make a plea on my annoying and exasperating brother’s behalf. Don’t let him walk away, Kennedy.”
I freeze and then force myself to press the brewer for a second cup.
“He’s going to walk away,” Rian continues. “Because he’s Aiden. I don’t care how smart he is. In some things, he’s an idiot. If you don’t skywrite ‘I’m interested,’ he’s going to tell himself this was just business. He’ll let you go.”
“If that’s what he wants—”
“Of course it isn’t what he wants. The way he acts around you? The way he talks? The way he relaxes? He barely does that with me. Which is a whole other story, I know—we have our problems. But the point is that you bring out something in my brother, something he needs, something he really needs. Hell, apparently, he even lets you drive his car.”
I stir Connolly’s coffee.
“That’s for him, isn’t it?” he says. “You’re making him a coffee because you know that after talking to our parents, he’ll need one the
way other guys need a drink. You’ve fixed it exactly right. You’ve even got him a cookie—one small enough that he won’t refuse. You can’t tell me you want him to walk away.”
“No, but if he can walk away, maybe he should.”
Rian growls in frustration. “You may know Aiden well enough to fix him a coffee, but you obviously don’t know him that well. He doesn’t take risks, Kennedy.”
“Maybe he needs to start.”
“Or maybe you could.”
I shake my head. “Believe me, I have no problem taking risks.”
“Then this one should be easy. Just—”
“I thought I heard voices,” Vanessa says as she walks in. She stops. “Did I interrupt something?”
I shake my head. “I was just making Aiden a coffee.”
“Ah, well, hold that thought. Rian? Can you get your brother? I heard Hope stirring, and I know everyone will want to be on their way. I’m determined to feed you all first. Can you give me a hand with that, Kennedy?”
Rian shoots me a look, but I duck it. He throws up his hands and strides off to get his brother.
We’ve eaten and talked. There will be fallout from what happened in that farmhouse, but Vanessa and Marius will handle it. This was, after all, about them. We were the mortals caught in the riptide of their ancient dramas, and they don’t expect we’ll hear any more from the villains in this piece. We’ve served our purpose and been discarded.
We aren’t as summarily dismissed by Vanessa and Marius. They owe us for our help and for what we suffered—Connolly’s near-death experience and my curse. We have their ear and their favor.
After we eat, I announce plans to wander the gardens while the others finish up. Am I hoping Connolly will join me? Of course. But he’s busy answering messages on his phone, and soon I’m walking through the front gardens alone. When a courier appears at the gate, I wander over.
“May I help you?” I say.
“Package for a Kennedy Bennett,” she says.
I hesitate.
She frowns. “This is the address I was given.”
Cursed Luck, Book 1 Page 35