4-Ever Cursed (4-Ever Hunted Book 2)

by Kasi Blake

  He drifted off while trying to invent a good plan, something that would keep Sean and Laura at a safe distance. As long as Oberon believed they didn’t want anything to do with him, he would leave them alone. Hopefully. It might not be his best idea, but it was the only one he had.

  A strange noise teased his ears. Was that a bird singing? Light infiltrated his eyelids. He squeezed them shut tighter. Was it morning already?

  “You and I need to talk,” a familiar voice said.

  Trick bolted upright and was stunned to find himself on a bed of fresh clover instead of on his mattress. No longer in his bedroom, he was surrounded by lush trees in various shades of green. The scenery reminded him of a rain forest. He’d seen a picture in Social Studies class. The clover was an interesting addition. That hadn’t been in the picture. Sunlight poked through clumps of leaves here and there, but most of the ground was in the shade.

  Jersey Clifford stood a few feet from Trick, hands on hips and a pleased grin on his face.

  “What’s going on?” Trick jumped up, ready to defend himself. Too bad all his weapons were at home. “How did you get me here? Did you drug me?”

  Jersey chuckled. “Your brother Jack had the ability to create a dream world while asleep, and he could suck others into it. One night he made the mistake of summoning me into his dream world. After that, I could pull him into my dreams even when he was awake.”

  “Is that what you did to me,” Trick asked. “Is this your dream?”

  “Yours? Mine? What does it matter? We’re here, and we need to talk.”

  Trick blinked. “About what?”

  Jersey cut the distance between them in a breath and held his hand out to Trick. A smug smile stretched his lips extra thin. He didn’t continue speaking until Trick accepted his help. Jersey had a firm grip. He yanked Trick to his feet as if he hardly weighed more than a child.

  The werewolf announced, “I found a way to take Oberon’s power.”

  “You told me he can’t be stopped.”

  Jersey shrugged. “I was wrong.”

  “Is everyone else wrong too? You aren’t the only one saying he’s invincible. All our research came back the same. Is that wrong too?”

  “Show some gratitude,” Jersey said with a grimace. “I had to do a great deal of digging to find this. I doubt Oberon himself knows of the spell.”

  It sounded too good to be true, and Trick knew the werewolf was a pathological liar. “What is it?” Trick asked. “What do I do?”

  “Well, there’s the rub.” Jersey’s grin turned malicious. “In order to stop him you have to kill someone you care about.”

  Trick sucked in a breath. “No way. That ain’t happening.”

  “Kill one and spare the world. Heroes often have to make sacrifices. Kill one person, and everyone else lives. But you need to be careful. Choose wisely. The spell won’t work unless you kill someone living in your heart.”

  “I bet the spell doesn’t work. You want me to kill someone I love on a maybe?”

  “Here.” Jersey handed him a folded piece of paper. “That’s the spell. Check it out with other hunters or creatures with intelligence. They’ll tell you it’s good.”

  Trick shook his head. “No. No way. I am not killing anyone, especially not someone I love.”

  Jersey vanished.

  Trick woke in his bed. He sighed, relieved the whole thing had been a dream. Then he realized there was something in his hand. Paper. He jumped up, ran to the light switch, and flipped it on. In his hand was the paper Jersey had given him in the alleged dream.

  He crumpled the paper and aimed for the wastebasket.

  Hesitating, Jersey’s taunt took another trip through his mind. What if killing one person could save the world? Could he do it? Should he do it?

  Instead of throwing the spell away, he placed it in a dresser drawer.

  ♫

  “What’s your problem?” Bash asked. “You’re in a dark mood.”

  Trick’s favorite hunter had shown up early that morning. He’d sent a text saying he was outside in his jeep, waiting for Trick to join him for some quality training. Skipping school made perfect sense to Trick. He didn’t feel like running into his former friends or the girls. Fighting with them once was enough. Killing something would be a great distraction.

  But Bash had other plans.

  Hours later they were in Bash’s jeep overlooking Lake Tahoe. No explanation, the hunter had parked among the trees and lit a cigar. Smoke filled the interior because Bash refused to roll down the window more than a crack. Good thing Trick was a vampire. Otherwise, he’d probably choke to death.

  Trick settled back in his seat and waved a hand in front of his face to try to clear some of the smoke so he could see the lake. He thought about his plan. He’d set it in motion that morning by telling his parents the girls weren’t talking to him. He was sure Dani and Scarlet would tell their friends at school, helping him spread the word without realizing it. He planned to tell everyone who would listen. The news would get to Oberon eventually.

  “Just got dumped by Dani,” he said. “Then Scarlet turned on me. People suck. They’re worse than vampires. At least I can kill them.”

  Bash grinned. “I know what you need.”

  “An investment in a flower shop and someone who can write quality apology letters? Or maybe a time machine so I can go back and undo what I did?”

  “Forget them.” Bash flicked his cigar out the window. “Women come and go, but hunting will always be there for you. Let’s go bag us a vampire.”

  “I don’t think watching you kill vamps will make me feel better.”

  “I’m not lifting a finger on this one.” Bash held a hand up. “I swear. I will sit back and let you do all the work.”

  “Seriously?” Trick straightened his spine, interested in the turn of conversation.

  “You need the violence more than I do right now.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They drove further into the hills until they reached a rustic bar with rotting wood and a broken front window. The sign hung at an angle over the door. Sloppy words in red paint—or was it blood?—spelled out the bar’s name: Choppers.

  Bash parked across the street even though the parking lot only had a couple cars and five motorcycles. “The worst of the worst are inside there,” Bash said with confidence. “Had a friend once that lost an eye trying to clean this place out. Hope you have better luck.”

  Trick raised an eyebrow. “And you’re waiting here?”

  “Hell no.” Bash grinned again, flashing a perfect set of white teeth against tanned skin. “I want to watch. But I promise not to help...not even if you beg me to save your butt.”

  A lump lodged in Trick’s throat at the darkness in the hunter’s eyes. The guy was telling the truth. Bash would let him die tonight if he got in over his head. The question was, did he feel powerful enough to take on numerous vampires without using his powers?

  Fighting in front of another hunter wasn’t the smartest idea.

  Trick shrugged off his misgivings. Feeling reckless, he pulled on his hoodie, a special gift from Sean and Laura. The hood had built in earbuds. He put them in his ears and pumped heavy metal music into his brain as he marched to the bar’s front door.

  Bash grabbed his duffel bag and followed.

  With a grin on his face, Trick entered and took a look around at the crowd of vampires. There were a few more than he expected. Didn’t matter. He was at the top of his game with the Sugar Bomb in his pocket, vampire speed, and mysterious power he still couldn’t fathom. He could probably dust a stadium full of vampires by himself.

  If he had to use speed, he decided to blame it on the Bomb. As long as Bash didn’t catch sight of the fangs he’d be okay.

  Vampires didn’t drink alcohol. If they did, they got sick. Trick was surprised to find them hanging out in a bar. Then he saw a row of blood-filled glasses on the counter and dead bodies on the floor. Mystery solved. He didn’t have to q
uestion them to know they were evil vampires worthy of termination.

  A few of them raised their heads, but no one seemed interested in him. It took a moment for him to realize they could smell he was one of them, a vampire. That gave him the advantage. He silently prayed none of them would mention he was like them.

  Bash stepped through the door behind him.

  Every vampire in the place stood like soldiers when a captain enters the room. They lined up facing the two of them. That was when Trick realized a couple of them were holding weapons: a dagger and a wicked medieval ax that looked ancient.

  Bash set his duffel bag on the floor and retrieved weapons from it. He handed them to Trick while the vampires watched with open curiosity. Trick tucked the dagger into his waistband and held onto the stake.

  Bash clapped a hand on Trick’s shoulder as he spoke to the vampires. Even though Trick had loud music in his ears, he heard what Bash was saying to the vampires. “This young hunter here wants to prove he’s the best by killing all of you. Don’t mind me. I’m just here to watch.”

  The monsters snarled and flashed their fangs.

  Bash added, “Of course, if you make it past him, I will be forced to finish you.”

  They seemed to move as a single entity. Greedy hands grabbed at Trick’s jacket. They surrounded him. He felt rather than saw Bash back away from the fight.

  Finally, he released all the pain and fury building inside of him. He pulled the Sugar Bomb from his pocket and put it in his mouth. During his battle with the Shadow Faerie he’d discovered the Bomb worked best when used that way. He buried the stake in someone’s chest. Then he started punching with both fists. His power on top of the Bomb’s added strength helped him to knock every single vampire back.

  He went into action, doing all the moves he’d been longing to show the great hunter. Backflips, spinning kicks, and every imaginable stunt he could think of to impress Bash, he did them all.

  Trick lost himself in the violent beauty of hunting. Time became meaningless. At some point, Bash put his favorite sword in Trick’s hand. Trick spun in a circle, swinging the heavy blade over his head. The metal sang to him. Blood splattered his shirt and part of his face. He wanted to keep going, but he realized no one was attacking him. He wiped sweat and blood from his eyes. His vision cleared. The vampires were dead. It was over.

  Disappointed, he returned the sword to Bash.

  A vampire surged to his feet and threw the medieval ax with the long handle and curving blade. It sailed through the air, coming straight at them. Trick turned sideways and caught the handle. The dangerous move could have taken his arm off.

  He smiled because it hadn’t.

  Stunned, the vampire stared at him.

  He ran at the creature, jumped into the air, and delivered two kicks to the vampire’s chest. Then he whipped around in a circle, ax swinging over his head. He used the blade to decapitate the monster and was instantly rewarded with a burst of dust.

  That was it. They were done. Trick spun around, searching for another vampire to kill. There had to be at least one more left. The adrenaline rushing through his veins kept him bouncing on the balls of his feet. He would trade three decades of his life for another fight.

  Unfortunately, he was done for the evening.

  Trick removed the Bomb from his mouth and returned it to his pocket. Then he pulled the buds from his ears. He shut off the music while waiting for Bash to say something. Shouldn’t the guy be praising him?

  Bash scrutinized his weapons one at a time as if searching for damage. He licked his thumb and traced the sharp edge of his dagger.

  “Did you see how I caught that ax?” Trick asked, his voice overly loud with excitement.

  The veteran hunter barely glanced his way; a grunt was his only reaction.

  “Come on,” Trick practically shouted. “That was cool. Admit it.”

  Bash rolled his eyes. “You were adequate.”

  “Adequate? Are you kidding me? I was awesome!”

  Bash’s face relaxed in an easy grin. “Guess you’re feeling better. I was right. All you needed was some violence.”

  They returned to the jeep and didn’t talk again until they were back in Reno. Trick had one more thing on his mind. He pulled out the paper Jersey had given him. Carefully he unfolded it, hesitant to show the hunter. In the end, he handed it to Bash because he had no one else to ask.

  “Do you know anything about this spell? Is it real?”

  Bash glanced at the paper. He swerved to the side of the road. The right front tire jumped onto the sidewalk. He snatched the paper from Trick’s hand and stared at it with unwavering interest. “Where did you get this?”

  “Is it real?”

  Bash shrugged. “I thought it was a myth or at least lost so long ago no one would ever find it.”

  “Would it destroy Oberon if I used it?”

  “Yes. Definitely, yes.” Bash scoffed. “You won’t use it though. Who are you trying to fool? Me or yourself?”

  “I didn’t say I would use it, but I thought maybe someone else might want to. What about one of your hunter buddies?”

  What about you? Trick didn’t say the words, but they rolled through his mind.

  “No one in their right mind would consider using this spell,” Bash said. “They’d have to kill the person they love the most. Only a monster would do that.”

  “But if Oberon wants to destroy the world, if this spell is the only way to save billions of people, I’m sure somebody would want to do it.”

  “I might... if I had anyone to sacrifice. It’s been a long time since I’ve loved.” The admission was stated without a trace of emotion. “What about you, Trick? I know you don’t have it in you to murder an innocent person, but if you had to, if it was the only way, who would you choose? Who would you kill?”

  Trick stared out the window. Because he was a vampire he could see better than humans. A cat ran across the street several yards away, and a guy in black was breaking into a car down the street. Trick stared at him without seeing him. Who did he love enough to make the spell work? Seemed like an unfair question to him. How was he supposed to choose?

  A realization saved him. Since he was in the middle of burning bridges he went with that. Trick shrugged. “To be honest I kind of hate everyone right now.”

  A lopsided smile tilted Bash’s mouth. “Been there. I think that’s the first step to becoming a great hunter.”

  ♫

  After working out his issues in the form of violence, Trick let Bash drive him home. The hunter turned off the headlights and coasted the last few yards as if they were working undercover. Trick appreciated the gesture, but it was already too late for him. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree with lights on in almost every window. His parents were still awake. No doubt they were waiting for him.

  He checked his watch. Three o’clock in the morning. How was he going to explain missing curfew again? Sean and Laura had given him extra space since finding out his father was dead, but they were running out of patience. Throwing his father’s name into heated arguments didn’t deflate their anger any longer.

  Bash lowered his head enough to see through the passenger side window. “Need me to go inside and give you an alibi?”

  “Don’t sweat it,” Trick said. “I’ll sneak in.”

  He jumped out of the jeep and started down the cement path with the intention of teleporting to his bedroom as soon as he was in the clear.

  The back door popped open, and Sean Donovan shouted, “Where the hell have you been? This staying out all hours of the night is going to stop right now! I don’t care if you’re almost eighteen. You still live under my roof, and I expect you to follow my rules.”

  Sean grabbed the hoodie’s sleeve and yanked him over the threshold. The kitchen lights illuminated Trick’s face and his clothing. A strange expression appeared on Sean’s face. He looked down at his hand. His fingers were smeared with a red substance that he lifted to his nose and
sniffed.

  “What is this?” Sean demanded. “Blood? Are you hurt? Were you fighting again? Do we need to take you to the hospital or get you a lawyer before the police show?”

  Before Trick had the chance to respond Matt entered the kitchen with Laura on his heels. Eyes wide, they stared at the blood on Sean’s hand. Laura looked like she might faint. Her husband crossed the room in a mad dash to catch her in case she fell. He grabbed both her arms and held her steady.

  Matt stood next to his brother in solidarity and announced, “Trick has something he needs to tell you.”

  Trick shot Matt a warning glance. “No, I don’t.”

  “Look at you,” Sean said. “You’re a mess. Admit it. You’ve been fighting again.”

  Trick glanced down at himself. Although the black material he wore disguised the blood, the rips were too obvious to miss. Plus, his hair was a mess, and he was sure there were bruises on his face that hadn’t healed yet.

  Laura crossed the room to check him. Her hands smoothed over his face as she searched his eyes. She looked for serious injuries but found none. After she was convinced he was okay she returned to stand beside her husband, arms folded.

  “Tell them or I will,” Matt said.

  “Tell us what?” Sean asked. “What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into now?”

  Several lies came to mind that he could use to get out of trouble, but Trick remembered Oberon was coming for them. The smartest thing he’d done was turning his friends against him. They were safe now. His parents were not.

  Trick shrugged and gave them the truth. “I’m a vampire.”

  Sean and Laura exchanged a look. They probably thought he was being a smart-mouth, trying to distract them from the real problem. She shook her head in disbelief, and Sean’s face turned red with rage.

  “I’m not lying,” Trick said. “Vampires are real.”