“So, has she cast any curses, then?” she asked, still in that joking sort of voice.
“She doesn’t do that,” I said haughtily, feeling irrationally insulted.
“Oh, come on! She isn’t real.”
“She feels real. And I’m sure she’s mentioned something about werewolves, but I can’t remember exactly…”
Nathan barrelled into the room, and lifted Perdita into the air. I felt instantly forgotten.
“Ugh. Get a room,” I snapped as Perdita squealed with delight.
I stalked off to my room, my anger simmering over. They took care of each other in ways I could never understand. They automatically knew when they needed each other. So what was left for me?
So, yeah, I was jealous because I didn’t have anyone for me. I shared Perdita’s friendship with Nathan.
Perdita knocked softly on my bedroom door, perhaps wanting to say good night.
“I’m in bed. Another migraine,” I lied, although the thudding was definitely growing stronger.
“Oh.” She paused. “Well, I’ll talk to you at the memorial then.”
I waited for her footsteps to move away from my room. I knew Nathan would walk her home, and again, I was irrationally irritated by their closeness. I had been left out of everything my whole life—kept in the dark—and the rage that had been boiling in my ears for weeks had burned into my veins, making me ready for a fight.
Byron called Nathan to his office as soon as he came back, closing the door after them. More secrets. More exclusion.
I wanted to scream my outrage. Tension flickered in my hands as though an electrical current sparked my fingertips, and only the whimper of a wolfhound next to me forced me to calm down and gulp down my anger. When Nathan ran up the stairs, flooding my senses with his bad temper, I worked myself up into a rage all over again. I threw open my bedroom door and walked out to block him.
“We need to talk about Perdita,” I told him, leaning on the banisters.
“Not now,” he said gruffly, but I got in his way.
“I’m serious. We still need to figure out a way to end the curse, remember?”
He looked stricken, and I knew, for sure, that things were getting out of hand.
“There has to be someone out there who knows what to do. It needs to end, Nathan.”
“Not yet,” he said.
“Why? You’ve always wanted to rid yourself of this stupid curse. Why change your mind now?”
He refused to look at me. “I like things the way they are.”
“You like… have you always been so jaw-droppingly stupid, or am I only just now seeing the real you?”
He growled at me and flared his nostrils.
“Don’t pull out the wolf crap on me,” I said, barely controlling a snort of indignation. “She’s going to die. Have you forgotten that?”
“She won’t die. I won’t let anything hurt her.”
“Are you forgetting diseases? Car crashes? The million and one other things that might kill her before her time?”
“Her dad’s a doctor. And I’ll keep her away from traffic.” He gave a twisted half-smile. “Maybe you’ve already changed the curse and made it so she won’t die.”
“Nathan, I…”
“Nobody’s taking her away from me, okay?”
He brushed past me, leaving me standing there open-mouthed. He had officially lost it. Perdita was going to die, and he was prepared to let it happen, just to keep his stupid bond with her. I was pretty sure she would allow him to do nothing, too. Idiots.
They thought they could fight the curse, control it, but they were already completely infected. They couldn’t see straight for the power controlling their destinies.
Well, they were both lucky they had me. I still had enough brains left in my head to make sure I ended the curse before anyone else got hurt.
One way or another, once and for all, I would make it end.
***
Kali
Every day, when she left the village, he followed her. She didn’t know his name. She knew little about him at all, but she felt she could trust him. There was no wickedness there, and she wished she could hold his palm in her hand and see a happy ending for him. He was honourable, taking it upon himself to protect her because his wife had gone out of her way to cause her harm. The women in the village had gossiped to her in loud whispers, telling her that Marusya had it in for her now. She wasn’t afraid, and she kept the delicious secret of her defender to herself.
Still, the women whispered mean, ruthless tales of Marusya’s weaknesses, and how she had always lived, friendless and strange, outside the village. She took care of the house while her mother lay in bed all day before she died. From what, nobody knew. The women were mean-spirited, but their comments went beyond simple dislike. The women were afraid of Marusya for some reason. Kali could hear it in the tremor of their voices when they spoke her name. They scorned her because they feared her.
“It’s such a waste of a handsome boy,” said a pretty young girl with corn-yellow ringlets and dreamy eyes.
“Boy? He’s a man at least a summer since,” said an older woman with a husky laugh. “I hear he has his eyes on you.”
Kali raised her eyes instantly, but the woman wasn’t speaking to her. In fact, half the time, they seemed to forget she was there at all. She had picked up a lot of information this way, plenty of secrets and gossip, and she really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was by the lack of morals in the village. This particular village seemed different than others, darker in some way. She saw the shadows haunting the streets and knew the people were drawing them in somehow.
The blond girl sighed dramatically. “He danced with me once, before the old hag got her claws into him.”
“Claws are right,” another said. “Claws made of gold.” Her cue for more cackling laughter.
“But,” she added, “he came along and paid me double after she smashed my eggs on purpose. She was spitting mad, but he didn’t listen to her. He was brought up well by his mother. It’s a terrible pity what they had to do with him.”
Grave nods all around ended that conversation, and Kali swallowed a scream of frustration. She needed to hear the rest of the story and listened for more mentions of Marusya’s husband, but the women had already moved on to another topic. She hadn’t even picked up his name, as all of the men were referred to in their relation to the woman taking care of their homes: husband, brother, or son. The men had no real identities there.
Kali rushed through the rest of the mostly predictable readings in her hurry to return home. She knew he would stop accompanying her eventually, but every time he walked behind her, she caught at least one glimpse of him before he left. The entire day was worth that one look she allowed herself. The more she saw of him, the more she longed for him.
Other girls her age had talked in excited whispers about the boys they liked, at least before they were married, and she had witnessed her own sisters fawning over boys from afar often enough to recognise what was happening to her.
The important difference was that the other girls in her camp took a liking to available boys—to gypsy boys. She was falling for someone who was all wrong for a million reasons, which didn’t stop her wishing to speak to him or her dreaming about him. A tremble of excitement bubbled in her stomach from morning ’til night because of him, and she had never felt more vibrant. Life thrummed within her whenever she thought of him. She knew, deep down, that she was putting a complete stranger on a pedestal, but she felt good and the situation felt right.
Except it was wrong, in every sense of the word.
Chapter Six
Amelia
I woke up feeling… disturbed. Disturbed by the dreams, the emotions I had felt. I realised I was becoming eager for sleep so I could catch another image of the dream boy/man’s face. I was definitely losing my mind. I blamed my mental state on the fact my grandmother’s memorial service was happening soon.
I was
n’t really sure why we were going through with it. Byron wasn’t interested, so he paid some woman to look after everything. Opa hadn’t returned, so he clearly wasn’t bothered. My cousin Jeremy hadn’t come back at all, even though we’d lost a family member, and that said it all really.
In fact, I was the only one looking forward to it. There hadn’t been a proper funeral and no real chance to say goodbye. The memorial would hopefully erase all of those memories.
The morning was hectic. Guests’ incessant knocking at the door made me feel as though we were running late. Vaguely familiar people turned up, some not familiar at all, but all of them a piece of Mémère’s past. And Opa’s.
In the end, Nathan dragged me to the community hall early. I could tell by the look on his face that he was tired of getting his hopes up every time the doorbell rang. Every single time we both started, thinking it might be Opa, but he never showed. So we sat in the community hall as people swiftly moved things around in preparation.
“We should probably help,” I ventured.
“We’ll only get in the way.”
I stared at my brother, unable to look away. Only a couple of seats from me, and yet he felt light years away. There had always been a distance between us. Aside from the protective big brother act, he never really showed me his heart. Once he started turning into a werewolf, the gulf only expanded.
Then Perdita came along, and he directed his attention completely toward her. Even before she knew he cared, she was all he cared about. I thought pushing them together would bring us closer, but all it did was shove me onto the sidelines, yet again. Since Mémère’s death, I had felt completely alone. I knew he cared about me, but sometimes he forgot I existed. He was the closest family I had, though sometimes I felt as though I’d lost everyone the day Mémère died.
Byron turned up at the community hall and came over to us, but we might have been three strangers. A constant tension filled the air, along with uncomfortable silences or awkward conversations. I didn’t want the atmosphere to touch me, but it clung on tight, and I couldn’t shake it off.
A dark-haired woman approached Byron, asking for a moment of his time. Her eyes were hungry on his, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or rather, he chose to ignore it. He had closed off his heart a long time ago, even to us. The brunette had directed most of the work for the service. I had no idea what her name was, and she never once met my eyes.
“Can you two greet people who turn up?” Byron asked before turning away from us.
With a heavy sigh, Nathan stood and hauled me up after him. “Let’s go welcome the natives.”
“Not just natives,” I reminded as I followed him.
People attending the memorial trickled in, and most of them getting this look on their faces when they took in the colours in the room. Widening eyes, bemused whispers; it became a little predictable really.
I was surprised to see Abbi approach with her parents. Nathan had told me that most of his classmates would be at the match, instead. Abbi smiled weakly, but her eyes brightened when she turned to Nathan. He led her and her parents to their seats, and I followed Nathan to the front of the room.
“What’s the deal with her?” I whispered, trying not to look around.
“She’s a good friend. I keep telling you that.” He looked annoyed at my question.
“She likes you?” I felt the waves of anger roll off him, but when he spoke, he was completely calm.
“As a friend. That’s all. Why do I feel as though you’re accusing me of something, Amelia?”
“I’m not.” I bit my lip. “I just… Perdita’s my friend.”
He lowered his voice, his eyes stern. He suddenly reminded me of Byron, and I had to swallow a hysterical giggle. “And Perdita’s my mate. Nobody can come between that.”
His jaw twitched, and I thought he might keep going, knowing his comment was directed mostly at me, but he was suddenly distracted. He turned around, and there she was at the door. Perdita. For once I was glad he forgot about everything else when she was around. I hadn’t liked his tone when he said my mate. Too possessive. Too… unlike Nathan.
He moved toward her without another word, and she stepped toward him at the same time, apparently unable to contain herself. Watching them gravitate toward each other was kind of beautiful, in a really sad way, considering they both knew their relationship would end tragically, one way or another. The way they felt was so obvious in how they looked at each other, and I scrambled to take my camera out of my bag and get a shot of them greeting each other.
They touched hands, both of them brightening as one, but the camera also picked up her dad behind her, and he looked entirely unimpressed. He was polite to Nathan, but I could see the tension in his jaw and how difficult it was for him when she walked away. His blond girlfriend, Erin, laid her hand on his arm as he stared after Perdita, and he turned his gaze back to Erin, true love softening his expression. I tried to hold in a sigh. I wanted that. That look they all reserved for the person who held a chunk of their heart in his or her hands. I wanted someone to look at me like that and to love me like that. But I didn’t even have familial love anymore.
As I took my seat, I realised Abbi had that same look of longing on her face when she watched Perdita and Nathan together, and I almost felt sorry for her. She never had a chance.
Perdita seemed pleased to see me, although her cheeks reddened as she took in the room, and she automatically hid behind her long, auburn hair. All eyes were on her, always her. She might have been the least assuming person I knew, but when she and Nathan were together, everyone craned their necks for a good look at them. I wasn’t sure if it was to see if Perdita’s and Nathan’s feelings were for real, or to gawk at a mismatched couple. But their intensity for each other grabbed everyone’s attention and didn’t let go, as if everyone drank up what the two projected to each other. Of course, the attention made Perdita uncomfortable whenever she became aware of it. Which didn’t happen too often; she was usually too zoned in on Nathan to think about anyone else. At the service, she noticed, and she squirmed in her seat until she had me as nervous as she obviously felt.
I tried to get her attention, to make her feel better, but she was leaning against Nathan, so she didn’t need me for anything. I stared at a point on the wall, hoping I would get through the memorial, when all of a sudden I felt Nathan’s anger like a spike, so strong that it seemed to hit even me. Perdita winced as his grip on her hand must have tightened, and I glanced back to see what had grabbed Nathan’s attention and anger.
Byron. Jeremy.
Opa.
My heart sang in my chest, but my grandfather didn’t even look at me as he took his seat. All feelings of elation left me, and I tried not to stare at him. Why wasn’t he happy to see me? The memorial service began, and I tried to pay attention to the stories told, but I couldn’t because I was confused. I couldn’t ignore the man who’d taken care of me as a father for all of those years, though he didn’t seem to be that man anymore. He didn’t even look the same. His ordinarily short silver hair had grown long. His beard was almost beyond the irritatingly scratchy stage. But it was his eyes that got to me. They had no depth, no feeling and were blank, bloodshot eyes which took us in as if he didn’t recognise us. I barely controlled the shiver that ran through my body. What had happened to us?
In the end, I managed to listen to some of the stories, feeling a certain kind of unexpected bliss at the idea my grandmother wouldn’t be easily forgotten by other people besides myself. Afterward, most of us took all of the vibrant plants that decorated the room to the graveyard. I was glad to see Abbi didn’t join us. The fact that she was friends with Dawn was all the reason I needed to be glad. I would never forget how they treated me on my first day at school.
On the way to the graveyard, I heard some “old biddies,” as Perdita called them, openly mock us for the “performance,” but I didn’t care. They meant nothing to me. They couldn’t hurt me.
My family c
ould.
I tried to take my grandfather’s hand, a movement I’d made a million times before, but he shrugged me off and edged away, leaving me feeling as though a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown all over me. I tried to speak to Nathan, but he brushed me off as well, tightening up with a rage I couldn’t explain. Tired of everyone, I stuck by Perdita, who seemed as annoyed by Nathan as I was. I liked that about her. She could still be bothered by him, and she didn’t automatically run after him when he acted like a… like a… werewolf.
My grandmother had been too submissive on the rare occasion Opa was being unreasonable. She’d give in without a fuss and wait for the sweetness and light to come back. I had always assumed her easy forgiveness was a symptom of the curse. Now I wasn’t so sure. Then again, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore. The uncertainty seemed to clog my pores, making it hard for me to follow through on a thought.
Perdita still managed to irritate me, putting on her sceptical face when I mentioned leaving flowers on old graves. I didn’t want to be forgotten; why would anyone else? It bothered me that she still had that narrow-minded reaction to anything new, despite everything that had happened. She would see so much more to life if she could open her mind. I supposed I should have gone easier on her. After all, something supernatural was going to kill her before her time. Maybe her denying what was out there helped her cope.
On the way back, Byron beckoned me to walk next to him. All five of my family members grouped together, but we had no closeness or unity.
“Be polite to the guests,” Opa said under his breath. “And let’s hope this is over as quickly as possible.”
“This is supposed to be special,” I blurted in surprise.
He turned his head to glare at me. “There is nothing special about this exposure.”
“Mémère would have liked it,” Nathan insisted, and I felt grateful for the support, particularly when the scorn coming from Jeremy’s direction was enough to last me a lifetime.
Adversity (Cursed #2.5) Page 5