Heiress to a Curse

by Zandria Munson

  Nicholas guffawed loudly, obviously finding humor in Marius’s announcement. “Brother, listen to yourself! Kind and gentle? Honest? We are talking about the Descendant, remember. She is a bloody witch.”

  Lord Drakon raised a hand, indicating that he would lead the questioning. “Marius, you know that every Descendant does not take on the characteristics of Necesar, but she remains our enemy. She remains the obstruction between our family and freedom. And, most important, she remains a threat to the world. In seven days Vivian’s spirit will possess her, and all those characteristics that you praise will be no more,” he explained.

  “I understand this, but she is guilty of no crime. She does not deserve death.”

  “Just as you have committed no crime, yet you suffer. Her sin, Marius, is being born. She is the curse. And as long as she continues to thrive, our family’s affliction will never be raised. We have suffered long centuries of hiding and now it is time to end it. The loss of one life does not equal the pain we have shared.”

  Anger was slowly rising within Marius. He wasn’t sure if he was angry at himself for being so weak or at his family for failing to understand his dilemma. Even his mother watched him with a measure of disbelief. Centuries ago, she’d been a gentle-spirited farm girl who’d cherished life even in the most insignificant of creatures, but the many years of her life had hardened her. Now she would do whatever was necessary to save herself and her family from eternal damnation.

  “Is there another way to break the curse?” Marius asked. “Give me five days. That is all I ask.”

  His request was met with silence. His brothers exchanged annoyed glares with him and his mother lowered her eyes. It was as if he’d just committed blasphemy.

  His father’s gaze was assessing. “Why, my son? Why are you willing to go to such lengths for this woman?” He waited.

  Marius had been prepared for this question. “I have never killed an innocent before,” he said.

  Lord Drakon leaned back in his chair. “Is that all?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  Apparently Simion grew tired of listening quietly to the exchange. He pulled the embroidered napkin from his lap and tossed it on the table. “Father, why are you trying to reason with this madness?” he shouted. “It is obvious that your son has grown weak! Assign me the task and the Descendant’s blood will be drawn before the sun rises again!”

  His brother’s declaration sent a surge of rage through Marius and he rose from his seat so fast that he sent it toppling backward. “Her name is Alexandra!” he roared.

  Simion rose as well, matching him in height and brawn. “She is the descendant of the witch Necesar! She is our affliction! She is the ruin of this world and she must die!”

  Their father had heard enough. “Silence! Be seated, both of you!”

  Marius held his tongue, but he continued to watch his brother with restrained anger. He was beginning to wonder what extent he would go to in order to save Alexandra. Would he betray his family?

  “I said, be seated!” Lord Drakon commanded again.

  They complied, each eyeing the other distastefully. Marius turned to his father and regarded him with a determined look. “Five days, Father, that is all I ask.”

  The older man shook his head. “I am afraid I cannot grant you that, my son.”

  Andrew interjected then. “Victor, why not give him what he asks? We know where the Descendent is. If he hasn’t found another way to end the curse after five days, then we’ll be free to act.”

  Lord Victor’s attention riveted to Andrew. “There is just too much at stake here. Our every move must be carefully calculated, and wasting five days attempting to find a solution to a problem that is nearly solved is futile. Marius, I will give you two days to either finish the ritual or bring the girl to me.”

  Andrew was persistent. “Two days? I doubt very much can be accomplished in that little time. If anything—”

  “I have spoken!” Lord Victor said in a tone that would bide no further interference. “He has two days and no more.”

  Andrew, obviously displeased with the solution, inclined his head slowly. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Two days, Marius’s mind screamed. That wasn’t enough time, yet it was better than nothing at all. He sent Andrew an appreciative look. It seemed Andrew and his father were always at opposing ends of any argument. Lord Victor would always listen to Andrew’s opinions, but as the leader of their clan, his own decisions always took precedence. This time, Marius was sure, would be no different.

  Marius looked at his brothers. It seemed Andrew wasn’t the only one who was unhappy with the outcome. Marius wondered if they’d respect their father’s words and allow him that brief time to make his decision. He’d intended to leave in the morning, but decided it would be best to leave as soon as the sun set. He had to return to New York and get Alexandra to safety.

  Lady Amelia, who’d remained silent throughout the exchange, spoke then. “Marius, do you have feelings for this girl?” she asked.

  Marius looked at her then met the waiting gazes of his family. “Of course not.” His expression was impassive. “She is our enemy.”

  Chapter 12

  Alexandra pressed the doorbell for the fifth time and, as before, she received no response. That and the fact that the day’s newspaper remained at the foot of the door gave her the impression that Marius had left the city once again. His absence didn’t bother her, for she hadn’t come to talk to him. She wanted only to be sure he wasn’t there so that she could put her plan into action. It was time she learned more about the man before it was too late.

  Her hand went to the bit of gold on her wrist. So far, the item hadn’t sprung any more visions. She suspected that there was just too much on her mind to be receptive to any psychic transmissions. And the one question that tormented her most was—how had Marius managed to return Mady’s bracelet to her? She intended to find out before the night was over.

  She returned to her apartment, grabbed the large, ancient ironing board that had been her mother’s from the broom closet and glared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d already missed her 7:00 p.m. appointment with her psychiatrist, so she was going through with it. I can do this!

  Behind her on the television the weatherman beamed. “Chances for a thunderstorm tonight are ninety-nine percent, so all you late evening commuters, don’t forget your umbrellas!”

  She dragged the ironing board out onto her balcony and looked up at the sky. He was right. Gray clouds hung low and not a star was visible. The wind had picked up, too. A storm was definitely coming. She drew in a shaky breath as she reassessed the distance between her apartment and Marius’s. The board was just long enough to reach the nearest rail of his balcony and sturdy enough to support her weight. She slipped a hand into her pocket and touched the credit card she’d placed there earlier. Once across, she would jimmy the lock on the sliding door the way she’d practiced on her own. Then she’d search Marius’s apartment. She knew that what she was plotting was wrong, but it seemed the only way she could get answers.

  Hefting up the board, she slid it over the seven-story drop that separated their balconies and slipped off her shoes. Don’t look down, she told herself as she placed one foot on the rail and pulled herself up, using the wall for support. She took a moment to regain her balance then carefully placed one foot on the board, then the other.

  The night air was cool and somewhere in the distance lightning flashed behind the clouds. The breeze whipped about her, scattering her hair and flipping up the skirt of the sundress she wore. She closed her eyes tight and suppressed a scream. She’d never been afraid of heights before, but then she’d never balanced her way across a seven-story building, either.

  Without looking down, she inched toward the other side as quickly as her fear would permit. It was a relief when her feet finally touched the cool tile that covered the floor of the other balcony. She left the ironing board in place, knowing she’d have to return the w
ay she came when she was done.

  Gripping the handle on the sliding door, she slipped the credit card along the space between the lock and the door jamb. There was a soft click and the door slid open.

  Her slender fingers reached around the side of the doorway and found the light switch, illuminating his bedroom. She paused in the doorway, her eyes wide with disbelief. It was like looking into the past—a vision of hundreds of years ago.

  A king-size canopy bed dominated the room. Its moss-colored velvet drapes were partially drawn, permitting her a view of a heavy animal pelt and a reckless twisting of bronze and gold jacquard bedding. All the other furniture in the room appeared to be antique as well, each piece exotic and beautiful, adding to the visual splendor.

  She entered slowly, her feet sinking into the soft carpet. Silently, she padded toward the bed. She could almost see him lying naked beneath the tangled bedding. His muscled torso and sinewy legs would be bare, while only a draping of fabric would cover his groin. She’d be entwined with him, her head resting on his broad chest as they slept after a night of frenzied lovemaking. Alexandra trembled as an electrifying pulse shot through her. She felt as if she’d been taken by fever—a hot burst of desire assailed her and she gripped one of the bedposts for support and moaned.

  When the wave of dizziness elapsed, she reached out and smoothed curious fingers over what appeared to be a quilt of wolf pelts. The soft hairs tickled, and she imagined what the pelts would feel like covering her naked body.

  Shaking herself, she focused on her purpose for being there. Fantasizing about Marius would do her no good. The man was a mystery that needed to be solved, and she would only be setting herself up for disappointment if she allowed herself to be swayed by the intense attraction she felt toward him. And so, with renewed resolve, she began searching his apartment for any clue that would lift her confusion.

  A tall wardrobe that looked to be a piece from the Victorian era held only clothing, some of which she paused to admire. Marius certainly had expensive and unusual taste. Among the labeled shirts and blazers hung coats and vests of rich brocade like those worn by the ancient monarchs of Europe.

  Next she searched his dresser and bedside tables, but found nothing. His living room, kitchen and bathroom all procured the same result. The place was clean—not even a smut magazine!

  She was about ready to toss in the towel when she thought to look under his bed. She knelt on the floor and raised the bed skirt.

  Nothing save a few dust bunnies.

  With an exasperated groan, she flopped onto the bed and stared up at the underside of the canopy. The man was just too perfect! She’d found nothing incriminating at all, yet the fact remained that he’d somehow retrieved the bracelet from the thief. Could he have set up the whole thing? Perhaps he’d intended to rescue her himself, but the gargoyle beat him to it. Would a man even go to such lengths to impress her? Or maybe he hadn’t been trying to impress her. Maybe the whole thing had been an attempt to gain her trust or gratitude. Perhaps he was a con artist!

  No. She stilled her thoughts with reasoning. There was no way he could have known that she would visit Mady’s home that night, or turn down that alley. The circumstances of the attack were just too random.

  There was something else she found unusual, though. Marius claimed to be in the antiques business, yet her search had produced no proof of this—no purchases made, bank statements or travel records. And as a matter of fact, she hadn’t come across one personal document with his name on it.

  She closed her eyes as she tried to formulate her next course of action. There seemed to be nothing she could do short of asking him directly how the hell he’d gotten the bracelet.

  She turned onto her side and ran her fingers over the fur pelt again. The bed was huge. It seemed to engulf her. Marius’s scent—that masculine odor that never failed to fill her mind with thoughts of sex—lingered on the bedding. Why, she thought, why does he have to be so puzzling? They seemed perfect for each other. She hoped to God that there was a logical explanation for everything.

  Sighing, Alexandra decided it was time to leave. She was about to roll off the bed when something caught her attention. In his closet, tucked to the right, was a large chest. It was easy to see how she’d missed it before, because it was half-hidden by a collection of long coats hanging above it.

  She got up and went to the closet. She gripped one of the metal handles of the chest and dragged the thing out into the open. It looked old—tattered leather and rusting cast-iron handles. The latch on it was missing. An antique no doubt, she surmised.

  She lifted the heavy lid and looked in. Her heart seemed to stop for a full minute then resumed function in a tumultuous staccato. Her breathing came in quick gasps and she was crippled by disbelief and confusion. Inside the chest lay weapons—a sword, knife, dagger and crossbow, two of which she remembered. The knife and the sword had both been used by the gargoyle.

  What is Marius doing with these? Is he aiding the creature? Controlling it?

  She bent down, reaching shaking hands to remove the knife. The thing was heavier than it appeared. The hilt was a masterpiece of silver carvings while the steel blade curved upward in a sleek arc. It was the knife the gargoyle had brought to her bedroom. She frowned, realizing now the coincidence; the very day Marius had moved in, the creature had come to her.

  Eager to learn more, she placed the knife on the carpet and pulled out the sword. She had to stand, for the thing must have weighed a ton. Her effort was evidence of the strength of the creature who’d swung it over his shoulder as if it had been a stalk of bamboo. The hilt was identical to that of the knife, only bigger, and the blade looked just as dangerous. She shuddered.

  Beneath the last two weapons lay a stack of documents. She pulled out the topmost one and looked at it. A sudden mixing of fear, anxiety and anger racked her body. It was all about her. Her name, age, social security number, address—everything! Frantically, she flipped through the other pages. They contained information about her job, her therapist, where she’d gone to school and even her old address in Washington!

  He was following her, but why?

  The last few documents she held answered her questions. She erupted in a painful sob and the pages crumpled in her fists. Marius had known everything about her parents: the day they were scheduled to arrive in Romania, the license number of the SUV they’d rented and how they’d died. He’d been following them all along, mapping their activities. Had he killed her parents? Was he here to kill her?

  She’d be damned if she let him! She tossed the pages aside and scrambled toward the phone. She would call the police and then call April and have her contact Detective Beckford. She’d see that Marius was held for suspicion of murder.

  She only had time to grab the receiver when a loud thump reverberated from outside. With a startled gasp, she snapped her attention in the direction of the sliding door. In walked the gargoyle. He was gasping as if he’d been racing against time itself. The sleek muscles of his chest were glistening, and his long hair hung in dripping straggles over his shoulders and down his back. At the rear of her mind, past the intense fear and desperation that was jerking every nerve ending she possessed, Alexandra realized that it was raining outside and that he had probably flown through the thunderstorm.

  His glare went straight to her then to the scattered items of the chest on the floor. “How did you get in here?” he growled.

  She’d been right! Marius was harboring the creature. Without responding, she quickly pressed the button on the phone that connected to the security desk. It rang once, then the entire phone was yanked out of her grasp as the gargoyle ripped the wire from the wall. The phone fell to floor with a ping and she knew it was useless to her.

  Slowly she stood, her eyes pinned to the creature. In her peripheral vision she could see the weapons lying as she’d left them. If she could just get her hands on the knife, she’d be able to protect herself.

  He extended a han
d. “I will not harm you. Please, you must come with me.” He beckoned.

  “Stay away from me!” Alexandra inched toward the closet. “You and your master killed my parents! What are you, his pet? His minion?”

  The creature glared at her with fiery eyes as he advanced a step. His large wings flattened against his back and he grimaced slightly. With the sound of her heart drumming in her ears, Alexandra’s attention drifted to the blood-stained bandage on his arm. And the leather tie that held it in place.

  “Marius?” she whispered, and her face contorted in pain.

  She stumbled backward until she hit the wall. Tears blurred her vision and a twisting agony in her stomach made her want to throw up.

  Marius and the gargoyle are one and the same!

  Shame and anger came to a rapid boil in her heart.

  All this time she’d been lied to, deceived, made a fool of! Their courtship had been a farce—a game, no doubt. All this time he’d pretended to care about her, to respect her, and it was he who’d come into her bedroom and violated her body while she’d slept! All this time, he’d been a beast!

  Marius moved forward a step. He’d flown all evening in an attempt to reach her and get her to safety before his brothers did something stupid. He’d decided that there was no time for explanations and so he would have entered her bedroom and taken her away, kicking and screaming if he had to. But as he’d neared the building, the light in his apartment had drawn his attention. She was the last person he’d expected to find in his bedroom. He could see that she’d been crying, and he could guess the cause of her distress. He also knew that there was nothing he could do or say to make her trust him or believe that he had nothing to do with her parents’ deaths.

  When the time came he would make her listen to him. He would tell her the truth—tell her everything and beg her forgiveness. He only hoped that she’d understand, but for now his main priority was to get her to safety.

  Alexandra snatched the knife from the floor and pointed it at him. “You lying bastard!” she shouted. “I hate you, and if you come near me I’ll kill you!”