The Love Curse

by Rebecca Sky

  ‘They’ll let you in. Go check that everyone is OK. I’ll look for your signal. If they’re all right, we’ll leave and come back tomorrow.’ It’s another lie, but I can’t tell him that I don’t want him anywhere near me when this plan goes down. I won’t make him watch me get shot, even if it is just pretending and even though after I drink Eros’s potion, I’ll likely be a random stranger to him.

  He narrows his eyes in question, and I hold my breath, hoping he doesn’t see through my lie. I’m hating all the lying I’ve been doing.

  ‘What makes you think they won’t arrest me?’

  ‘Because you’re going to find Ammon and tell him you escaped your kidnapper. It will buy us some time.’

  He runs his hands through his hair, and clenches his jaw. ‘I don’t like this, Rach. I don’t like lying.’

  ‘I know. I don’t like to ask you to do it either.’ I feel even worse about it than my lying to him. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering.

  ‘Hopefully Ammon won’t ask how I got here, and I won’t have to lie.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whisper, stealing the last moments with him, trying to memorize everything about his face – the little scar on his forehead, the bends of his lips, his nose that slants to the left from being broken over a comic, the golden highlights in his hair from time on the open ocean – our time – the strong line of his jaw, his cold, hard, calculating, endlessly blue eyes that have given me more warmth and love than I could’ve ever hoped for.

  He’ll never even know the effect he has on me.

  Benjamin Blake has taught me real love.

  He squeezes my shoulder, one last touch, like a part of him knows this is goodbye. ‘Meet me at the boat tonight?’

  I nod, fighting the surge within, and the desire to hug him. But he turns before I give in, and is swallowed into the crowd. My knees buckle. I struggle to breathe. My shaky hands grasp for the vial – the pain of losing him is so great, so all-consuming, that I know unless I drink this now, I’ll never find the strength to. Besides, the sooner I drink it, the sooner I’ll forget and the pain will go away.

  I slip it off the ribbon and uncork it.

  ‘Keep them safe. Give me courage to do what I must, protect me, and … please don’t let getting fake shot hurt.’ I bring the glass to my lips, tipping the serum in and letting every last drop of the sticky sweet substance drain down my throat.

  A part of me expected to forget Ben right away. Eros said the cost of the serum is to forget him. Maybe it takes a while for that. Even though the pain of knowing it’s coming fills every part of me, I must push on.

  I don’t have long until Ben realizes I’ve tricked him. I have to work fast. On my left a man with long multi-coloured dreadlocks stands on a flipped-over car, megaphone in hand. ‘Chase the monsters out of New York!’ he chants into the speaker.

  The crowd mimics him, their voices drowning out the helicopter’s choppy threat. I elbow my way over. It takes all my focus to hold my gift back. When I make it to the car, I use the side-view mirror as a foothold to climb up.

  The man stops chanting and looks at me in question.

  ‘I’m going to end this thing,’ I say.

  ‘Oh yeah, and how’s that?’

  ‘I’m the reason it started.’

  He crosses his arms, his dreadlocks hanging over them. ‘You don’t look like a vampire alien.’

  ‘You ever seen one?’ I ask. He doesn’t answer, so I grab the megaphone.

  ‘Be my guest,’ he says, sarcastically, then climbs to the back of the car, out of my way. Now that his chanting’s stopped, the crowd peters off in different directions, most shoving closer to the station.

  I struggle to wrap the megaphone strap around my wrist, realizing my gloves are still on. I pull them off, toss them over the side, watching them float to the pavement. My skin suddenly feels so cold, so exposed. For a second I reconsider everything. Can I really do this? And if I don’t, Ben won’t realize his dream, my dad won’t be free, future generations of Hedonesses will never know real love. My hands shake as I bring the speaker to my lips. My heart hammers away. Eyes turn and lock on me. Waiting to see what the little Indian girl has to say. This is scarier than I imagined it to be. I take deep calming breaths and glance around the crowd. Some people laugh and drink, others proudly display handmade signs. None of them suspect what’s about to happen.

  I spot a familiar form on the precinct steps.

  Ben.

  And now that he sees what I’m up to he’s heading back through the crowd. I have to act now – be a fighter.

  My thumb fumbles to press the button. ‘Officer Ammon!’ My voice squawks through the megaphone. ‘Ammon? I have what you’re looking for.’

  One of the riot patrolmen returns my call through his loudspeaker. ‘You there – what do you have?’

  ‘I’ll only talk to Ammon,’ I say back.

  The officer turns and points to someone near the door. ‘Go get him.’

  I teeter on the upside-down car. Trying to look as brave as I can. The crowd around watches me curiously. Soon there are shouts, and some of them point to a window above the stairs. Ammon hangs out, megaphone in hand.

  ‘This is Ammon,’ he says.

  The crowd-control officer points to me. ‘The girl on the car says she has what you’re looking for.’

  Officers exit the precinct, pushing past the line and tunnelling through the crowd towards me.

  Ammon shields his eyes and scans the chaos, soon picking out the upside-down car.

  It’s now or never. I take a deep breath. ‘Please let the serum work,’ I whisper. Then I glance to where I last saw Ben, searching desperately through the crowd for him. I find him, halfway between the precinct and me, and as his eyes lock on mine I feel at peace. Forgetting me is what’s best for him, for everyone. He’ll get his dream back. He’ll get to be an officer. I square my shoulders and lift the megaphone back to my mouth. ‘I’m what you’re looking for.’

  The crowd erupts in chaos, people throwing questions, some cheering.

  ‘You arrest nuns over a girl?’ someone shouts.

  ‘That can’t be a vampire,’ another says.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ Ammon yells, the speaker screeching with feedback. ‘Get her!’

  This is it.

  The guy behind me climbs off the car. ‘Come on,’ he says, holding his dreads back and waving me down. ‘The fuzz is coming.’

  But I don’t move. Instead I find sturdy footholds and brace for the oncoming officers. The angry mob turns curious, parting to let the crowd-patrol unit pass without a fight.

  Soon two armed men are standing beside the car.

  ‘Get down!’ one says, holding a black gloved hand out.

  I don’t move, don’t even look at him. I scan the officer’s faces for Eros, panic rising when I don’t see him. I take a deep breath. I have to trust he’ll be here.

  The car shakes as the other officer climbs the side.

  I steady myself as he reaches for me.

  ‘Don’t touch her!’ Ammon warns through the megaphone. The officer starts to pull back, but I grab his arm. He loses his footing and stumbles to his knees in front of me. In two quick movements, I stand behind him and hold his head to the side, neck exposed. I slip my hand under his sleeve and inject my power into him. He starts to convulse, and I struggle to hold on, struggle not to scream. When my pain subsides, I whisper in his ear, ‘Do not move, and do not say anything.’ My teeth hover over the gentle flesh of his neck.

  He stops convulsing but his body ticks as the power pushing into him fights his desire to obey me.

  The crowd gasps, stepping back.

  Police officers swarm the car.

  Ammon shouts orders to men in the room.

  My hands shake as I bring the megaphone back to my mouth.

  This is it. I have to be convincing.

  ‘The police are holding the Sisters, students of St Valentine’s Catholic school, and some of thei
r parents because of me. Release them or there will be bloodshed.’ Hundreds of confused faces stare back. The only way to get them to believe is a demonstration. I gag, thinking about what I’m about to do – but it’s necessary. I need to cause fear.

  I close my eyes and open my jaw wide, sinking my teeth into the officer’s neck. He cries out, but it isn’t just because of the bite. It’s because I inject him with my gift again, and again. I can’t control my power when it comes to my lips. I wipe my mouth, wishing I’d brought water to clear the taste of his salty skin.

  All around me people scream.

  Some run, others manoeuvre behind the police barricade, too fixated by the gore to turn away.

  ‘I am not from Earth!’ I yell into the megaphone, the nerves vibrating my voice, making me sound extra fierce. A part of me wants to laugh when Ammon’s face pales and the expression of I knew it crosses his features. ‘My species is an advanced version of what you humans call vampire. For some time, I’ve taken over this human body, possessing the minds of others around me, forcing them to do my bidding, just as I have this officer. I am the only one of my kind on Earth. I have come to make a way for my people.’ I pause for dramatic effect, wishing Paisley was here to see this.

  All the officers’ eyes and guns are trained on me. I take a deep breath and raise the megaphone. Eros, where are you? ‘Watch what my powers can do.’ I turn to the officer in my grip. ‘I want you to shoot at Ammon!’ I say, adding so only he can hear, ‘But don’t hit him.’

  The officer picks himself off the car and unhooks his gun.

  The echo of bullets silences the crowd. The riot officers form a barricade around the car. Ben’s behind them, trying to squeeze through.

  ‘Rachel!’ He pushes at the line. One of them turns, slamming his baton into Ben’s stomach. He gags out a breath, and continues through the pain, shoving forward. I have to stop myself from jumping off the car and rushing to him.

  ‘Rachel, don’t do this.’ He reaches for me, stretching as far over the officers as he can.

  I can’t stop – stopping is no longer an option. Instead I order the officer to shoot at Ammon again, buying time until Eros gets here. I scan for him and a riot officer on the other side of the barricade catches my eye. He raises his gun. My heart drops. He’s not Eros.

  Not now. Not yet. Not before …

  ‘No!’ Ben shouts, seeing the same thing I do.

  His eyes fix on the raised gun, on the man’s finger flexing on the trigger.

  My eyes fix on Ben.

  An ear-shattering blast rings out.

  There are screams. The officer in front of me falls off the roof of the car. Ben’s shouting something and running for me, but I can’t make it out with my ears still ringing from the blast. He pushes a man aside, and forces his way over. His gaze flicks to my hands instinctively clutching my stomach. It’s so insignificant a look, I almost miss it. Almost. My eyes trail down.

  Thick blood, real blood, seeps between my fingers.

  My shaky hands slip under the shirt, stinging when it brushes torn open flesh.

  Eros was wrong.

  The serum didn’t work.

  I’ve been shot.

  Ben climbs the car so fast nobody attempts to stop him. I teeter, my body weakening under the sudden pain and loss of blood. I collapse to my knees, he catches me and pulls me into his arms.

  ‘Rachel!’ He lays my head on his lap, putting pressure on my wound. ‘You promised me you’d wait. You promised,’ he says, frantically trying to stop the bleeding.

  ‘Ben,’ I choke over a mouthful of blood. ‘Please.’ My shaky hand rises to his. He grabs it and holds tightly. ‘Don’t forget me.’

  ‘Never.’ Ben clears his throat and brushes a stray curl from my face. ‘Wait for me in Elysium.’

  After all we’ve been through. This is how it ends. I should’ve known Eros would let me down again.

  The crowd stands back, watching as my life seeps away. If I have to die, in his arms is how I’d want it to be. I smile, my eyes locking on his one last time, and I let out a long ghostly breath. There’s a release, a freedom I’ve never felt before.

  ‘No!’ he cries, clinging to my limp body and rocking me in his blood-soaked arms. He lays his ear on my chest, listening as my power fades away and my heart ticks its last tick.

  The sun beats down on the black-clad attendees as they file into St Valentine’s graveyard on a sunny afternoon. Ben keeps his eyes down, watching the grass squish under his steps. He follows the crowd of black trousers and shoes being herded to the graveside. Soon they begin to slow and peter out at the sides. But Ben continues forward until he nearly runs into the open white coffin.

  Inside, instead of a body, lies a gold urn stuffed with ashes, track ribbons, a Wonder Woman T-shirt, a package of hair elastics and a slew of family pictures. He reaches in and absently trails his finger over the cold, hard, ash-filled container, before slipping the boat keys from his pocket and laying them in the casket beside the other objects. After a few silent moments, his head jerks up and he glances around the crowd of people, every friend and loved one. He wanders away, finding a place between Paisley and Kyle and stands stiff, staring at the casket.

  Kyle rests a bandaged arm on Marissa’s shoulder. Tears stream down her face, her body shaking, as she turns to Ben and grips his hand. ‘I have no one now,’ she says.

  Kyle leans over. ‘You have me, my love.’

  Ben pulls away. ‘I can’t believe you’d bring him here, like that. Don’t you have any respect for Rachel?’ His tone hints that he hates himself for having once felt drawn to her.

  ‘Don’t talk to her like that,’ Kyle says, wrapping his arms around Marissa’s shoulders.

  Marissa cries into her hands. ‘I don’t know how to be on my own.’

  Ben’s face goes through every emotion, anger, guilt, sadness, before settling on compassion. He turns to Marissa. ‘You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Let him go, find your own strength, and don’t let Rachel’s sacrifice go to waste.’ With fists clenched, he turns and walks to the other side of the crowd near Officer Ammon.

  Ammon leans over to Ben. ‘The Chief Medical Examiner cleared her autopsy and ordered the coroner to cremate her. Can you believe that? Not even getting a second opinion on what could be a first extraterrestrial discovery. He should lose his job.’

  ‘Just leave it, OK,’ says Ben. ‘I knew her, she wasn’t a monster or one of your alien freaks. She was just a normal girl.’

  ‘Our family celebrated a private cremation ceremony earlier today,’ Mrs Patel says, drawing the crowd’s attention. ‘Rachel loved New York and she’d have wanted to be buried here. This graveyard holds many important Hedonesses. It’s unconventional to bury an urn in a coffin, we know …’ She continues her speech to the crowd, standing strong, shoulder to shoulder with her mother. Their hands are clasped, chins held high, two generations of Hedonesses burying the third. Their only show of grief is their tears. Mr Patel smiles as he watches a blue-and-yellow helicopter circle above.

  Soon the ceremony is over, the coffin closed and moved to the belt by six Sisters from St Valentine’s, the wheels squeaking as it’s lowered. Ben turns from watching and focuses on something in the distance. His legs twitch to run, to flee. But he stays to the end.

  I stay too, watching from the headstone’s shadows.

  I shift to get a better view. The movement catches Ben’s attention. His curiosity gets the better of him and he loops through the attendees and towards me.

  He’s faster than I anticipated, so I run. I can’t let him catch me.

  He picks up his pace. ‘Hey! Hey, wait.’

  I push my legs as fast as they’ll go, but soon he’s an arm’s length away. He dives, pinning me to the sharp graveyard grass. We wrestle – I’m strong, but he fights fierce. I bat away his arms as he tries to pull the cloak from over my head.

  He pauses, grabbing my hands and staring at my red gloves.

&n
bsp; ‘Rachel?’ It’s barely a whisper.

  I stop struggling, laying deathly still beneath him.

  ‘Rachel?’ he asks again, pulling back the hood.

  When he sees my face staring back, my freckles, my brown eyes, my curls, he nearly faints. ‘I don’t understand. I watched you die. Then just now I thought I saw you …’ He mumbles as he pushes himself off and slumps against a gravestone.

  ‘Please, let me explain,’ I say, moving to my knees, curls spilling down my cheeks.

  His eyes snap at me. ‘Let you explain? Do you know what my life’s been like for the last couple of days? Why … why did you do this to me? To your family, your friends? You know how hard funerals are for me.’ His voice wavers as he fights back the overwhelming sadness and anger.

  ‘Eros said he’d help break the curse,’ I blurt. ‘He said you wouldn’t remember me. That none of this would hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing. For them, for you, for everyone.’ The desperation in me is palpable.

  ‘Eros?’ Ben whispers the name, rolling it over his tongue like it’s all too much to believe.

  I crawl to him, holding his hand firmly between my red gloves. ‘Please. Ben. I didn’t think it would happen like this. I had no other choice.’

  ‘There’s always another choice.’

  ‘Not for me.’ I drop his hand and turn my face so he can’t see the single tear that falls down my cheek, but he sees.

  So I stand and walk a few paces. I’d run, but his presence holds me like an anchor.

  ‘How … how did you fake it?’ Ben demands, pushing off the ground.

  I wipe my eyes, my bottom lip quivering. ‘Eros. He, uh, he gave me this potion that was supposed to keep me from getting shot and …’ I don’t want to tell him this part, I know how he feels about the Hedoness gift, but I can’t lie to him any more. ‘… I turned the medical examiner so that everyone would think I was dead.’

  ‘You turned someone?’