Cursed and Crazed

by Sophia Stafford

  “I told her, yes. I told her there was information that another attack was being planned and that I had strict instructions to call her. And let’s just say that she wasn’t that polite. In fact, she said a few very choice words. Can’t say I blame her. I think she knew we had you.”

  He took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. “At least she’s going to be safe.”

  “Hopefully we’ve done enough so everyone is safe.” Iris stretched out, covering a yawn with her hand, “Well, whoever is meant to be meeting us here clearly isn’t tonight. I think I’m going to head to bed, it has been the longest day.” She stood, tapping Jaycen’s leg as she passed. “We can share the bed if you want?”

  “I think I’ll stay on the sofa. Keep an eye on him.”

  Sampson snorted. “So you’re just going to keep me strapped to this chair? I won’t be able to sleep like this.”

  Iris walked around him smiling. “You are going to have to figure it out. Because we are not untying you.”

  Jaycen waited until Iris left the room before reaching for the radio on the side and turning it on. She fiddled with knobs until a voice rang out. She didn’t recognise it, but they were speaking about her, and about a riot.

  “What the hell?” She turned up the volume enough for her to hear but not enough to keep Iris awake.

  “The demonstrators have broken through the first layer of security at The Cure, from what we can tell they have been stopped, but we will keep you updated,” the man said, his voice strained.

  “Why are people rioting?” She whispered, putting the radio on the side cupboard and listening intensely. Were people hurt? Why were they rioting? And what exactly did it have to do with her?

  “Maybe Darius killed someone else?” Sampson said, mainly to himself, and then much louder, “Turn it up, so I can hear it. Did you hear a name?”

  Jaycen shook her head and turned it up just a little. Both of them sat listening to the reporters as they described the damage the demonstrators have caused. Burning cars, vandalising any building without guards outside. The entire front half of The Cure had been evacuated until they got the riot under control, which didn’t sound like it was happening any time soon.

  And she heard it. Someone too close to report, one single scream over the mass of noise.

  “Killing Jaycen won’t kill us all! We will rise up.”

  And then another.

  “She was our chance and you took it!”

  And another.

  “Burn those that keep the power for themselves!”

  They were rioting because of her because they thought they had killed her.

  “Maybe we should turn it off. Or better yet leave it at my feet, so I can listen, and you go to sleep.” Sampson suggested, his face blank as the sounds of rioting and random sounds still came from the radio.

  “This isn’t right; this isn’t what’s supposed to be happening.” She wanted to turn it off so badly, but this was about her. She couldn’t switch it off and pretend it wasn’t happening, even though she desperately wanted it to. What was Benedict doing? What had he said?

  “Why did you fake your death?” Sampson tipped his head to the side but watching her very closely.

  “It needed to be done. It won’t be for long.” She hoped, rubbing her hands together and imagining her magic buzzing like it usually would. The nothingness that met her cut deep, deeper than this morning, deeper than yesterday. Pain, like the pain from her stomach, lessened over time as it healed. This pain was only getting worse, even when she thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. It scared her.

  “Hello? Jaycen? You listening to me or are you asleep with your eyes open?” Sampson stamped his feet on the floor, the noise drawing Jaycen from her thoughts and back into the cabin.

  “Huh?”

  “I said who at The Cure knows you’re still alive? Benedict, obviously, but who else?”

  She smirked. “Yeah, I don’t trust you enough for that. Or, for anything for that matter.”

  He smiled wide. “When are you going to realise that I’m on your side? I like your magic. It feels like our magic, you know. That’s why they are rioting, they felt like it was theirs too. It feels like it’s all of our magic. And when you don’t have any power, it feels good.”

  She needed to get out of the room. “I should get to bed and get some sleep.”

  “And you wake up I’ll still be here.” He rattled his tied hands, just for her to see.

  She picked up the radio and was about to walk into the bedroom before turning and heading into the small bathroom. Closing the door behind her put the radio on the floor and sat next to it, pulling her legs to her chest and listening to the news reporter of The Cure.

  She listened until she fell asleep on the floor, using her arm as a pillow.

  **************

  A loud bang pulled Jaycen from her sleep. She shot up, rubbing her eyes with her back of her hand as she processed where she was. The radio was still on next to her, the presenter talking about the weather in New York. She turned down the volume and listened intensely, her eyes burning. She had no idea what time it was but looking through the small window showed nothing but darkness.

  Then she heard another bang, this one not so loud. Standing, she opened the bathroom door and shuffled through.

  Sampson was on his side on the floor, his hands still tied behind his back as he twisted side to side.

  “You look like a turtle,” she remarked smiling.

  “Get down. Quick. There’s someone here, they were looking through the window over there.” He used his head to point the window at the far end of the room, where the small kitchen was.

  She dropped to her hands and knees as fast as she could. Oh, God.

  “Who is it?”

  He looked over at her incredulously. “How would I know that?”

  She shuffled over to him, if they came back and looked through the right window, they’d be able to see him on the floor, just lying there tied up. She grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled.

  “We’ve got to move you.” She pulled again, barely moving him an inch.

  “St…stop. You’re strangling me.”

  She let go immediately and Sampson gasped for air.

  “You can’t stay here,” she stressed, kneeling up, so she could get a better look out the window. “I can see them! I see them,” she squealed, grabbing hold of his collar and pulling again.

  “Stop it! You’re hurting me.” Sampson twisted his head side to side, forcing her to loosen her grip.

  “Stop talking.” She crawled past him to the far window and peered out. Two figures dressed in black were walking towards the cabin, both of their heads down, both of them only illuminated by the flashlight in their hands.

  It was only when they got closer that Jaycen could hear them talking.

  “…call came from these cabins? There’s a town ten minutes down the road, could have been there.”

  “He got a call from these coordinates. They want to know who it was from.” Both of them turned towards one of the other cabins, Jaycen couldn’t see what was happening from the window, but whatever it was, it was enough to draw the two men in black away.

  “I can’t see who they are, but I don’t think they’re friends.” She moved on her knees to where he was lying. “We really have to move you.”

  “Untie me.” He leaned forward, holding out his hands as far as he could.

  “I don’t know.” She tried again to pull him; he barely moved an inch. She was starting to panic. Should she just run and leave him? What if they hurt him?

  “Untie me, or they will look into that window and see us both.”

  Silence stretched out between them as she seriously deliberated running away and leaving him here. They wouldn’t know who he was. Would he tell them about her? Tell them where she had run off to? She moved before her brain could catch up and stop her and untied his hands.

  As soon as he was free, he kicked up from the
ground, so he was on his knees next to her. “Crawl into the bedroom.”

  Numbly she did what he said, hearing him shuffling on the floor next to her until she was in the bedroom. While she shook Iris awake, Sampson closed the door behind them, then made quick work of closing the curtains.

  “What’s happening?” Iris stretched her body lazily until she saw Sampson. “What? No. First rule of keeping a hostage is actually keeping them hostage.”

  Jaycen straightened, what the heck did Iris know about keeping a hostage?

  She wanted to ask so badly, instead, she put her finger over her mouth, making a “Sshh” Sound. “There are men outside. I don’t think they’re friendly.”

  Iris blinked in the dark. “Crap. Okay. What are we going to do? Should we run?”

  “I think they’d see us before we made it to the trees.” Sampson peered between the closed curtains, letting a slither of moonlight slide in.

  “We can’t just sit here and wait for them to come in and get us,” Iris said, pushing herself up in the bed and swinging back the sheets.

  “I don’t think they know what cabin we’re in.” Jaycen stared at the door, her heart thumping in her chest. If those burst through the door now, they’d be stuck. No magic and nowhere to run. The pain in her stomach had lessened, but not enough for her to take on two grown men. She looked around the room, eyeing up potential weapons, the lamp was an option.

  A rattle could be heard from the front door, and Jaycen stopped breathing.

  “While they’re at the front we should get out from the window.” Sampson was already prying the old window open, the cold breeze seeping into the room. “I’ll go out first and then I’ll help you two down.”

  The front door opened just as Sampson jumped out the window.

  Jaycen was helping Iris out when they heard men’s voices.

  “Someone’s been staying here. Keep your eye out.”

  Oh God oh god. Jaycen was breaking out into a sweat as she eased Iris out of the window and to Sampson’s waiting arms when another man’s voice entered the mix, a deep but smooth voice that seemed louder than the other two.

  “Can I help you two gentlemen?”

  “Wait.” Iris grabbed the window frame, and listened. “I know that voice. Jaycen, help me back in, now.”

  “What? No, we have to go.” Sampson stressed out in a hiss, trying to pull her out into the cold. Iris, however, wasn’t having any of it and pushed herself back into the room. She would have hit the floor in a thud had Jaycen not caught hold of her.

  The bedroom door opened and Jaycen screamed, still with Iris in her arms and Sampson looking on the front from outside the window.

  “Thinking of running off?”

  “Azrael! I knew it was you. I just, I heard your voice and I knew it.” Iris kicked away from Jaycen and pretty much ran to the threshold.

  Azrael. Benedict’s friend. The fallen Angel.

  He had been the one that was coming to meet them.

  Had her heart still not been beating out of her chest she would have danced or cheered or something. Smiling she looked out the window at Sampson, who was no longer there.

  “Oh come on!” She rushed over, sticking her head out of the open frame and not seeing anything but darkness. But there, wedged between the window frame and glass was a business card for Sampson Grenadier.

  Chapter 18

  “Your guests are gone,” Azrael informed them straight away, his eyes on the business card in Jaycen’s hand as she frantically looked out the window.

  “What did you tell them?” Iris asked, clearly not having noticed that Sampson was gone.

  “I told them this was my cabin and that I was staying here before Jaycen’s funeral. They didn’t question me further and left.”

  Well, they wouldn’t, would they? Jaycen thought closing the window and pulling the curtains to, who in their right mind would question an angel?

  “How did they find us? Are we sure they’ve left?” Iris confirmed.

  Azrael gave a single nod. “I’ll do a sweep on the area in a moment. We’ll give them enough time to get away. From what I heard, they were tracking a phone call they thought was suspicious.”

  A light dawned in Iris’s eyes. “I called Benedict. They must be tracking his phone calls.”

  Azrael nodded. “Yes, and now he knows.”

  “We might have the slightest issue,” Jaycen cut in, toying with the business card in her hands.

  Finally, Iris looked at her, and the closed window. “Where’s Sampson?”

  And so Jaycen unloaded everything. From hitting the guy in the face to holding him hostage. She lay it all out and there was no more information to give she took in a breath and asked, “So, what do we do?”

  Azrael, who had been listening with a completely blank face, pulled out a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “Get the jet ready, we’re leaving within the hour.” He disconnected and looked at Jaycen. “Pack a bag. You’re leaving.” Before turning and walked straight through the cabin and out the front door.

  Jaycen and Iris were left, just staring at the space that Azrael had been stood in. “He just ran off. One minute he was there and the next, gone. Poof. Gone.”

  “Who do you think he’s going to tell anyone about you?”

  “Who knows. Hopefully, no one that would work against us. Maybe he won’t tell anyone.” Even she didn’t believe that. Of course, he was going to tell people, why wouldn’t he? She had kept him tied to a chair for an entire day, not even letting him up to use the bathroom, which was something she hadn’t thought of a few hours ago, but now seemed the difference between him keeping her secret or not. He had no loyalty to her.

  Luckily for Jaycen, she hadn’t unpacked, so her getting ready was simply picking up Thornton’s jacket and a bag that had already been packed for her.

  “Where do you think he’s going to take us?” she asked as they followed Azrael’s steps until they were outside the cabin.

  As if appearing out of nowhere Azrael was next to her. “Not Iris, she’s wanted back at The Cure. Just you. I’ll take you on a plane, and you’ll travel alone.”

  “Oh. That’s, awesome.”

  Traveling where? And on whose plane? She had so many questions.

  “So this is it. Our adventure cut short.” Iris leaned in and hugged Jaycen as Azrael started his car.

  “Yeah, looks that way. Thank you though, you know, for this.” She wasn’t great at thank yous, Jaycen acknowledged feeling very awkward.

  “It was fun. Way better than spending time in the library.” She smiled big while opening the car door for her. “Just, stay safe. Okay?”

  Azrael leaned over Jaycen, so he could see Iris. “Stay here, I won’t be long, then we’ll head back to The Cure.” He didn’t wait for her to reply before he started the car and pulled away.

  They sat in silence for about ten minutes before Jaycen couldn’t stand it anymore. “Can we listen to some music? Do you like music?”

  He kept his attention on the road ahead. “No, I like silence.”

  She tapped her knees. “Oh great.” And then stayed silent for what felt like an eternity before she said, “Where am I going this time?”

  “Scotland,” he replied shortly.

  “Sweet, I used to live in Scotland.” She carried on talking, asking as if their dialogue went both ways.

  He said nothing. The car speakers beeped, and Azrael sighed, shooting her a look from the side of his eyes. “Try to stay quiet, okay?”

  She nodded as he pressed a button on the wheel, the car now filled with the noise of what sounded like hundreds of people talking.

  “Are you on your way?” Benedict asked curtly, the rest of the noise drifting into the background.

  “Yes, we’re just making a pit stop and then I’ll be there. How are the funeral preparations going? Is the weather going to hold up?”

  Azrael and Benedict had small talk. It surprised her. They both seemed too direct, too to-the-po
int to be chatting about the weather. But here they were. What other things did they do when they were alone? Did they chill out and watch movies? Go to concerts? She’d love the idea of Benedict and Azrael at a concert together, both in band t-shirts with beers in their hands.

  “Let’s hope so. What kind of pitstop? Will, Lilliah be joining us?” Benedict asked, mentioning Azrael’s angel girlfriend. Jaycen had met her once, she was nice. Stunningly beautiful, yet kind. A light to Azrael’s dark. Lilliah had deserved the God-like status the magical community had bestowed on her and Azrael. And now she was going to be attending Jaycen’s funeral.

  She looked out the window of her car as they planned her funeral, that pain of loss in her stomach returning.

  “No, Lilliah will be staying home, unfortunately. She sends her regards, though. I’ll inform you of everything when I arrive at The Cure. I won’t be too long.”

  Silence then, before Benedict said, “Right, okay. Keep me informed and I’ll see you soon.”

  Azrael disconnected without saying anything else. “You look like you’re in pain. Are you okay?”

  She blew out a breath, still staring out of the window. “Yeah I’m fine. When is my funeral?”

  “In three days. The Cure are rushing it through, they want everything to settle.”

  “Because of the riots?”

  “Yes. There are also certain politicians that are using your death as political leverage. Baiting your followers, things are getting very dangerous very quickly.”

  “Who?”

  Azrael smirked. “Who else but your boyfriend’s family?”

  Now that she should have guessed. Everything was an advantage to the Krull’s, even a death.

  Azrael pulled into a private air space, the gates heavily guarded by two men with guns.

  “Bit of an overkill, huh?” Jaycen noted as they waved their car through having spotted Azrael.

  “Humans do many things to make themselves feel safe. Completely unaware that none of it protects them, not really.”

  And queue the chill running down her spine. It was easy to forget just how dangerous the man sitting next to her was. It was easy to forget what he was capable of.