Cursed (The Curse Trilogy Book 1)

by Nicole Marsh

  “Are you here with Tony?” He demands, stepping closer, towering over me and forcing me to crane my neck up.

  My tone is as haughty as I can muster, “I came here by myself, but Tony was the one to send me an invite. I’m just here to hang out and meet new people, which doesn’t include you.”

  Vlad huffs. “You shouldn’t be on this side of town, it isn’t safe for you.”

  Someone hollers from behind me, “Hey, quit holding up the line and go to the bathroom or move!”

  I look forward and see the bathroom door is open and the room is vacant. No one is left in front of me. Sidestepping around Vlad, I enter the small bathroom. I slam the door shut in Vlad’s face, clicking the lock to make sure he can’t harass me further while I’m in here.

  Once my bladder is empty, I peek around for Anna, but I can’t find her. I head out to the back patio, hoping she’s there when I arrive. It takes me an extra-long time to stumble through the house. When I finally reach him, Tony pulls over a stool from the high topped patio table and pats the top for me to sit down.

  I laugh hysterically as I try to get on, the stool comes up to just under my chest. Tony joins in laughing at my efforts, before he finally lifts me under my armpits and places me on the seat. Once I’m settled, he stands behind me, so I can lean against him. I look down to help place my feet on the rung for the stool and before I can turn my eyes back to our small group, my gaze catches on something in the window.

  The conversation on the patio fades out as my eyes lock with Vlad’s. He’s standing in a circle, surrounded by Marvin, Garth- I recognize him also from football, and a third friend I don’t recognize.

  The four are in the kitchen- nursing a red solo cups. Vlad doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to what his friends are talking about, instead he stares me down through the glass. Tony brushes a hand down my arm, and I see Vlad tighten his grip on his cup, crushing the sides together in his fist.

  My Vlad induced trance is broken when Tony leans down to whisper in my ear. “Want to find somewhere more private to hang out, Mir?”

  Tearing my eyes from the glass, I glance around the patio to see that most of Tony’s friends have abandoned us. Only one couple remains, and they’re locking lips against one of the pillars of the house.

  I’m about to respond when a deep baritone interjects, “Mira, your parents called and they want you home.”

  I whip the upper half of my body around quickly, turning to face the voice. The movement causes my stool to tip forward and I fall into a hard set of abs. A pair of hands on my upper arms stop my momentum, preventing me from falling further which likely would have ended with my face landing in the crotch of the khakis in front of me.

  Taking a second to recover, I will my head stop to spinning before I look up. I let out a low groan. Of course it would be Vlad’s face smirking down at me, holding me back from face planting into the crotch of his pants.

  “I don’t think I can drive yet.” I mumble to the floor with flushed cheeks.

  Vlad helps me back on the stool and looks at my face, assessing me. “I’ll drive. We have to bring the guys though, we all came together.”

  I nod to let him know that’s okay and Vlad turns around so his back is facing me. He bends his knees and looks over his shoulder. “Want a piggy back ride to the car?”

  I’m tucked into the passenger seat trying to tame my nausea, while Vlad drives my Prius. Marvin, Garth, and his other friend from the party are crowded into the backseat, grumbling about how tiny it is. I try to glance out the rearview mirror and the entire back window is blocked by their hulking forms sitting one atop of another. It’s difficult to tell where one guy begins and the next one ends. In the dim lighting, it looks like a giant mass of man meat has taken over the back seat.

  After a few minutes, when I’m more confident I’m not going to hurl, I finally snark back, “Why didn’t you three just take your own car?”

  Vlad laughs. “We took the Taxi to the party, so we wouldn’t have to drink and drive.”

  Marvin chimes in, “We didn’t know we’d get shoved into the backseat of this clown car in order to get home.”

  I turn my head around to face him. “Sorry that when I bought my car I didn’t check if three huge-headed men would fit in the backseat together.” It’s not my best insult, but it’s also, surprisingly, not my worst.

  Vlad lets out another low chuckle at his friend’s expense. More grumbles come from the backseat, but quieter so I can’t hear them as well now. Fiddling with the radio knobs, I find a song that I know and turn it up to drown out their complaints the rest of the car ride home.

  The song ends and another begins, but I’m preoccupied trying to ignore my stomach roiling as Vlad takes a few turns at rapid speeds. I keep my eyes down, fixed on my feet, focusing on my breaths. I let out a relieved sigh when the car finally stops and start to unbuckle. Raising my eyes to look out the windshield, I halt my movement to open the door. I don’t recognize the house in front of us. “Where are we?” I ask Vlad.

  Vlad’s unknown friend lifts his hand in the backseat. “My house. Thanks for the ride man.” Vlad’s other two meaty friends also echo their thanks before they begin pushing and pulling at each other to squeeze their way out of the back seat. We sit in the driveway another minute, with the headlights on watching his friends head through front door, giving them one last wave as they head inside.

  I level a glare at Vlad once they’re out of sight. “I thought my parents called and wanted me home.”

  He shrugs and smirks, his standard facial expression when he’s not glaring. “Tony’s bad news, I had to get you out of there. And driving your car was cheaper than getting using the Taxi, it’s a win for everyone.”

  “It was not a win for me.” I huff out an exhale before continuing on. “I was having fun and you made me leave my first party for no reason!” My words make me sound like a petulant child, but I can’t help it. Vlad is an expert at getting under my skin. “Take me home Vlad,” I demand. All I want is to take a shower and crawl into bed. I was feeling great earlier at the party, after drinking the beers from Tony, but now I just feel fuzzy headed and a bit nauseous.

  “I’m going to take you to my house first and grab you some water. You need to sober up a bit before your parents see you.”

  I just make a “humph” noise in response. Vlad is being unexpectedly responsible, but I’m sure he has ulterior motives. I need to stay on my toes to make sure he doesn’t pull a huge prank on me, like ditch me in the middle of the woods and drive off in my car or something.

  My eyes shift from his face to observe the scenery through the window as we drive, ensuring Vlad actually takes us to his house like he says he’s going to. My eyes start to grow heavy as I watch the dark trees blur by the window and I decide to close them for just a second.

  I startle and shiver as a wave of cold air drifts over my body. The chill disorients me, having woken me from a deep sleep. Where am I? Why is it so cold?

  I barely get a chance to look around and try to figure out where I am before I’m scooped up, with an arm under my legs and another behind my back. A small shock goes through my body when bare skin touches mine. Not in a romantic love story way, but as in I feel a small electric current course over my body at the contact.

  I gaze upwards and my gray eyes connect with Vlad’s amber gaze. “Are you kidnapping me?” I slur out to him. At this precise moment I don’t know why I’m with Vlad. He hates me.

  I must’ve said that last part out loud, either that or Vlad can read my mind now. He replies, “I don’t hate you. I brought you to my house to sober up after Tony’s party.” He stops for a minute and shifts my weight a bit. I can hear him unlocking his front door while keeping me held in his arms. He continues in a quiet voice and I don’t know if his words are for my sake or his own. “You couldn’t go home yet, I saw how much you drank. I don’t know how you’re so drunk from three beers, but I don’t want your parents to be mad that yo
u were out drinking all night. I texted your mom that you were staying at my house.”

  “Why would you do that?” I wonder aloud, confused. Is Vlad being… nice? “Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?” I direct my questions to him this time.

  Vlad just gives me a look I can’t discern in my current state. He closes the door behind us and continues carrying me through the house. I haven’t been in his house on this side of town before. Honestly, I knew where his house was, sort of, but Vlad and his parents have never invited my family over. They’ve always come to our house for Sunday dinners.

  It’s still a bit mysterious why they suddenly moved across town, and I make a mental note to snoop around or ask Vlad tomorrow once I’ve sobered up. I can feel when he finally stops walking, as soon as he does, he releases my legs to let my feet drop to the floor. I guess at some point I lost my shoes because I can feel the soft, plush carpet underneath me. Vlad confirms I’m steady on my own before he turns to the dresser and shuffles through a drawer. He plucks out a long pair of sweat pants and a huge shirt, shoving them towards me. “Bathroom is through the door to the left.” He instructs. “Head in there to get changed.”

  Changing clothes while inebriated is easier said than done. I get stuck in one of the ten straps to my dress three times before I’m able to finagle it over my head and off my body. I pull the shirt on first and it’s so large it hangs past my knees like a dress. I try to put on the sweatpants, but even with the waistband rolled as far as possible, there’s still a few inches of fabric dragging past my toes on the ground. Tripping over it twice, I decide to not wear them, placing the pants and my dress over my arm and heading back into the room.

  Vlad isn’t around and he didn’t say where he wanted me to sleep. The bed in the room looks so warm and inviting, king sized with four plush looking pillows. I make the decision to crawl into bed while I wait for him to reappear. As soon as my head hits the pillows, I fall into a deep sleep, with vivid dreams.

  8

  The Birthday

  Mirabella

  I wake up slowly. My body is comfortable and although I feel like I slept well, a terrible headache is pounding against my skull and my stomach feels terrible. I begin to stretch, reaching my arms up above my head. The movement makes me realize that a warm body is pressed against my backside, with a beefy arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

  I can feel the shirt that I was wearing as a dress bunched around my middle and am suddenly hyperaware of my skin. My legs are wrapped between a set of muscular thighs and calves. The bare portion of my lower back is also pressed tight against an expanse of warm skin.

  Turning my head to the side, I’m greeted by Vlad’s face, with closed eyes and a peaceful expression. His chest is rising and falling as he takes deep breaths, appearing to be asleep. I’m flooded with indecision, do I try to remove myself? Do I go back to sleep or pretend to sleep until he wakes up and leaves? I’ve never been in a situation like this, before and indecisiveness wars in my head.

  I wish my phone was within reach, so I could text Sylvia for some advice. Like SOS, in bed with hottie that hates me. We both appear mostly naked, how do I leave?

  Who am I kidding, she would lose her mind and be the least helpful person on planet earth. She’d probably have one of her hmm moments and tell me no better time than the present to lose my virginity or something.

  I’m so lost in thought I don’t notice the change in Vlad’s breathing right away. It isn’t until his fingers start tracing designs on belly, causing my muscles to twinge, that I realize he’s awake. A small giggle escapes when he hits a ticklish spot and the noise causes him to stop his movement, but instead of moving away like I expected, he pulls me tighter to him. Settling me closer to him and nestling his face into the crook of my neck.

  It feels so intimate and I worry that somehow this is going to end up with me being on the butt end of the prank. It’s Vlad after all. He’s never nice to me, but he hasn’t pranked me since the water cooler incident my first week at work.

  I wish I believed that he changed, but it’s more likely that he’s planning something big and I need to be prepare instead of letting my defenses down. Shifting around, I attempt to move my body to face him so we can talk about it. I’m tired of him pranking me and I’m fired up, ready to give him a piece of my mind.

  Vlad tightens his arm further after he gives a small grunt. “Stop wriggling around, Mir.”

  His tone gives me pause, he sounds pained like he just wants to go back to sleep, instead of wrestle me to keep still. I decide maybe it will be okay to trust Vlad, only this one time. He kept my parents from seeing me super drunk, which he didn’t have to do. Maybe he’s growing up and giving up his bullying ways.

  I must fall asleep again after Vlad snuggled closer into me. When I reopen my eyes, I’m lying in bed by myself. This time, I stretch out for real and check out the bedroom before I get up. My headache is still there, but it’s not nearly as bad as it was and I feel a bit more human than earlier this morning.

  The room I’m in is simple. It has the large bed I slept in, a single nightstand with a lamp, a desk with a chair and a dark, wooden dresser. There are a few trophies from football and a laptop seated on the desk. Suddenly it clicks together that this is Vlad’s room. He let me sleep in his room last night. I take in the space again, with fresh eyes. Compared to his room in his old house next to mine, this is tiny.

  What really catches my attention the second time my eyes sweep my surroundings, is a painting of a wolf hanging above his dresser. It’s a lone wolf standing in the snow. He has dark black fur and amber eyes, he looks hauntingly familiar, like a wolf that I’ve painted in the past or something.

  I resist the urge to snoop through his dresser or nightstand, barely. Instead I plod across the plush carpet, stopping to grab the pair of large sweatpants that I left on the floor, before entering the bathroom. After I handle my business, I check out my reflection in the mirror above the sink. My hair is a tangled mess. I try to comb it through with my fingers and some water. It’s a bit more presentable, but not much, by the time I give up and head out into the hall.

  As soon as I step out of bedroom, the smells of breakfast hit my nose. I identify Bacon and potatoes in particular and my stomach growls. Breakfast is my favorite meal, I’d know those smells anywhere. I walk down the hall as quickly as I can, holding the band of the sweatpants to keep them from sliding down my body.

  I crack a smile once I reach the kitchen. Vlad is shirtless, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hot pink apron. He’s manning the multiple pans on the stovetop like a professional. Somehow he must hear me approach and turns around to look at me almost immediately upon my arrival. He grabs a glass off the counter next to him that’s already filled with liquid and slams it down in front of me. I wrinkle my nose at it, giving a sniff to try to identify the contents. It’s a yellow, oozy looking mixture and just thinking about drinking it makes my stomach churn.

  I push the glass away from me on the counter and take a seat in one of the tall barstools, using the bottom foot wrung to help me climb atop it. “What is this?” I ask Vlad’s back, as he’s resumed his cooking.

  “Raw eggs,” he responds while pushing some toast down into the toaster.

  Yuck. “Why would I drink this?”

  “Do you always ask this many questions in the morning, Mir? Just drink the damn eggs, they’ll help your hangover.”

  I study his back, trying to determine if this is a prank or not. His body doesn’t give any signs either way. I’ve never heard of raw eggs as a hangover cure, but I also hadn’t drink before last night. I decide to risk it, crossing my fingers hoping it’ll help to ward off any potential bad juju from Vlad and plugging my nose as I chug the slimy liquid down. After I finish, Vlad passes me another glass, this one is filled with orange juice. I drink it gratefully, washing down the disgusting taste and texture of raw, slimy eggs.

  Shortly after the juice, Vlad serves up two plates heap
ed with bacon, potatoes, toast, and more eggs- cooked this time. He sits in the barstool beside me, still wearing his apron, and we both devour our food in silence. After we’re done eating, Vlad gets back up and rinses off both of our plates before putting them in the dishwasher.

  He then takes a small box off the counter and hands it to me, saying the last thing that I would expect from my tormentor from the past few years. “Happy Birthday Little Mir.”

  I drive home lost in thought. The last few weeks have been incredibly strange, especially Vlad’s behavior last night and this morning. I’m surprised that he remembered my birthday, yet alone got me a gift. I haven’t opened it yet, it’s sitting on top of my folded dress from last night, nestled in the passenger seat next to me.

  Every time I look over at the gift it reminds me of what happed after breakfast. Some sort of tension started sizzling between Vlad and I, then one of the glasses fell off the counter, shattering across the floor. Instead of exploring the feelings I may be developing for Vlad, that he may reciprocate, I used the distraction to bolt into his room and grab my things before hopping in my car and speeding off.

  What can I say? I’m a mature adult.

  When I open the front door, my parents are both waiting for me in the entryway. They yell, “Surprise!” and dole out awkward hugs, while I try to keep Vlad’s clothes from falling off.

  “Sorry I didn’t come home last night,” I tell them as we stand around. I’m slowly inching towards the stairs so I can shower and change out of the too large clothing.

  My mom replies in a happy and chipper tone, “Vlad texted us that you were staying over. I’m so glad you two are getting along again, honey.”

  Wait. “You’re not mad I spent the night at a boy’s house?”

  My dad chuckles. “It’s not a boy, Mira. It’s Vlad Mort. We’ve known him for years and he was a fine young man that’s growing into a kind and intelligent man.”