The Love Curse

by Rebecca Sky

  I face him, lifting my chin, trying to be brave like the other women in my family. But my shaky hands give me away.

  ‘Getting shot was supposed to be staged. It wasn’t supposed to actually happen. But then … I don’t even know …’ I look up. ‘I woke in the morgue—’

  ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’

  This is it – this is the moment I confess everything, and I need to be brave. I square my shoulders and lift my chin. ‘Because I’m in love with you.’ The words roll from my tongue, my heart lurching forward, trying to catch them and take them back for safekeeping. ‘I thought I was doing what was best for you.’ I wait for him to say something, anything. But I’m met with a blank stare. Somehow that’s worse than him telling me he doesn’t feel the same.

  ‘Please, Ben. You have to understand.’ I try to keep the desperation from my voice but it’s impossible. My whole body is shaking. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought that my touch would change you …’ Tears well in my eyes as the confession spills out. ‘… You’re better off without me.’

  The weight of my feelings is too much. I bend forward, pressing on my stomach, hoping the small act will somehow hold me together. Confessing this hurts much more, much deeper than I could’ve imagined. It makes me physically ill.

  A strong arm wraps around my waist, another around my neck, pushing me firmly into a tree. I gasp, my lips parting. Ben’s mouth smashes into mine. He holds me tight to his lips, muffling my cries under his warm breath. He consumes me. My body aches to be closer, to make up for every second we spent apart; it speaks the words I fumble through. I claw at him, pulling him nearer, our lips dancing as tiny sparks come aflame inside me. A pleasure so intense, so satisfying, it caresses my skin as I’m seized in Ben’s embrace.

  In a first kiss shared between lovers.

  It should be heaven, perfection – I told him I love him and he showed me he feels the same. But this isn’t what I wanted. I don’t want to win him only to lose him. And the electricity inside me is taking him away.

  I feel his will leaving, the otherness creeping in. My arms and legs refuse to work as I sob against his lips. A grief so immense crumples me in half from the inside out. I’m giving a goodbye kiss to the boy I love. All that he is, is dying in my grasp – bolt after bolt of my wicked love consumes him, fills him, takes him further from me.

  I want to run away.

  I want to melt deeper into him.

  The gift in my acidic blood slices through, breaking our sealed lips for a second, enough for my anguished cries to ring out. With each shock he jerks back, but his grip on me doesn’t falter. His lips remain stubbornly and firmly locked on mine. Then suddenly he pulls apart, my mouth ice in his absence. Those endlessly blue eyes look through me, deep into my soul.

  ‘My love,’ he whispers.

  ‘No,’ I push away from him.

  Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring his face. He’s a distorted image on a wave-rippled surface. I’ve wanted him. I’ve wanted to hear those words. But this isn’t Ben – this is a shadow of the boy, a sick trick to make me think I’ve been given the one thing I want more than anything. True Love.

  My arms feel detached the moment the warmth of his body leaves my palms. ‘Go!’ The pain rips through me and I collapse forward, unable to bear the weight of the words I’m about to say. ‘Leave me.’ My voice breaks. ‘Go. Get out of here. Forget you ever knew me. Find someone else to love.’

  Ben stumbles back, his eyes flooded with alarm. Still he turns and leaves. And in that moment my heart shatters all over again. I fall to the ground, wishing I’d never believed Eros and taken his stupid serum. And that I’d never known the feel of Ben’s lips on mine. Each step he takes away pulls at my seams.

  Step.

  Tear.

  Step.

  Tear.

  He holds a corner of my soul and unravels me from the inside out.

  This loss is too much. I won’t survive it. I turn my head from him. I can’t bear to look, to see him this way. This isn’t Ben – the Ben I love is gone.

  With my last ounce of strength, I push off the ground. Even though it pains me, literally pains me to watch, I know I must. Seeing the body of Ben, the shadow of him, stumbling through the graveyard, will give me the courage to go on, to find Eros and make him reverse this curse like he promised.

  I will my legs to walk to a different tree, each step feeling foreign. I collapse against the rough bark, tears staining my face. In the distance Ben staggers, pauses, mumbles to himself, then continues on. This pattern repeats – he’s confused, he’s trying to reconcile the pull to me and his desire to obey my command.

  He stops again, looks down at his feet. His shoulders tense, and his head droops. He lifts his hands, runs his fingers through his hair and turns around. His dark blue eyes search until they find mine, and when they do, he takes long, determined steps to get to me.

  I suck in a breath.

  ‘Rachel, I—’

  ‘I don’t understand – how are you disobeying? I took your will … you should be …’ My legs collapse. I grip the tree for support.

  He smiles, looking down at my hands, fingers clinging to the bark. He pries my grip free, slowly pulls off my glove and trails the tip of his finger over my exposed skin.

  I feel the shiver deep in my soul.

  With one hand he undoes his tie, unbuttons his shirt, while the other slips my bare palm over his heart, trapping it there. ‘I don’t know why.’ He pauses, those eyes holding mine. ‘Maybe it’s because I’ve spent every day since my family died looking for something more in this world. Or maybe,’ he pauses, ‘it’s that I gave you my heart before you ever took it.’

  ‘We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by

  learning to see an imperfect person perfectly’ – Sam Keen

  I watch my family bury me – one shovelful after another – dirt raining down on a small white casket. I imagine I’m inside the box, staring up at the tufted satin, listening as each rhythmic smack of dirt entombs it. If it weren’t for Ben’s hand in mine, holding me together, I’d have run over there already. Across St Valentine’s cemetery, and right to my mother. To my family and friends surrounding the open grave as they watch the coffin disappear underground. My coffin. They deserve to know that the girl they’re mourning isn’t me. I’m alive.

  An agonizing scream echoes through the graveyard. My father falls to his knees, clawing at the ground where he thinks my body is.

  ‘I never knew her,’ he cries.

  Kyle drops next. The crowd stirring at the change.

  ‘The gift,’ Ben says. ‘It’s leaving them.’

  I take a hurried step towards my dad. Ben’s grip tightens on my hand and he pulls me back to him. ‘We’ll see him soon,’ he whispers. ‘As soon as it’s safe.’ He points to Officer Ammon. My spine curves into his body and his arms secure around my waist. I’ve never been touched this way and my entire body shakes.

  ‘But—’

  ‘No buts,’ Ben says, giving my hand a quick squeeze. ‘It’ll be best if we tell your family in private, back at your home. Tonight.’

  If my parents would only look this way they’d see us watching from behind the headstones, hidden in the shadows of the old oak tree. But the men are too dazed and confused to notice anything, and the women whisper among themselves, probably about the recent changes in their bodies. I feel it too, the lack of buzz, the numbness. I’ve been so used to being a Hedoness, I didn’t realize what it would feel like to not be. Somehow, someway the curse is gone.

  I lean further into Ben. Like it or not, he’s right. If I walked over there now, Ammon would be the least of my worries. My family would lose it. I can just imagine Nani pointing and screaming, ‘Ghost!’, and Ma ordering them to dig up the coffin to see if Nani’s right.

  For now, I’ll have to stay dead.

  Ben runs his thumb across my arm and electricity resurges under my skin. I pull away, my heart speeding into a familiar
panic. Then I realize it’s different from Hedoness power – this is my body’s uninfluenced response to his touch. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and it feels amazing. I push past the urge to put distance between us and I nuzzle in tighter, treasuring this new sensation of skin on skin.

  Our moment is interrupted by the rumble of a helicopter fading in and out above. It’s likely the Committee checking to make sure I’m no longer their problem. It brings me a twisted satisfaction knowing that we ended their ability to exploit Hedonesses. Some of the funeral attendees look up at the sky. My heart hammers faster, hoping my family will turn and see me, but they never do.

  ‘After the scene at the precinct it’s probably a news chopper,’ Ben says, glancing up. ‘The whole world is watching – what the—?’

  I follow his gaze, expecting the blue-and-yellow Committee chopper. Instead my eyes land on a cloaked figure sitting in the top branches of the oak tree.

  Ben’s body stiffens and his grip on me tightens. ‘Who are you?’ he asks, his voice filled with unspoken warnings.

  I don’t have to see the stranger’s face or hear his answer to know – the golden bow and arrow slung over his shoulder is all the evidence I need. I recognize the engraved celestial battle scene, and the white-goldframed amethyst handle. It’s the same one from the St Valentine’s library painting. Though I didn’t see the arrow when we last met, and it wasn’t glowing in the painting, it is glowing now.

  ‘Eros.’

  ‘Hello, love.’ He pulls back his purple hood and lets his blonde curls loose. ‘Ben.’ He nods.

  Ben glances between the two of us, his gaze cementing on Eros. ‘You.’ He sucks in a sharp breath, and his hands tighten into fists. ‘You’re the one that talked Rachel into getting shot.’

  ‘A small price to pay for a greater good, no?’

  Ben eyes widen and he turns to me. ‘Is he serious?’ I open my mouth to answer, but Ben cuts me off. ‘If something had gone wrong she could’ve died.’ He points at Eros as if willing his fingers to shoot daggers.

  Eros doesn’t seem concerned. ‘You’re welcome,’ he says, adjusting his bow and grinning down at us. ‘Let’s just say I knew the ambrosia would eradicate any chance of that.’

  ‘Ambrosia?’ I ask.

  ‘The vial,’ he says.

  Ben surges forward and I grab his arm, afraid he’ll yell and draw attention. He relaxes into my grip, though the frustration doesn’t leave his face.

  ‘What are you doing here,’ I ask, ‘and why are you in the tree?’

  Eros smiles. ‘I wanted to make sure my plan worked. But I didn’t want to interrupt your moment.’

  ‘Your plan?’

  ‘The only way to break the Hedoness curse is for a man to knowingly give his heart to one. Ben needed an extra nudge.’ He smiles at Ben. ‘Your family’s death had shut you off to letting people get close to you – it demanded another tragedy to teach you to not waste a second you could be spending loving someone. Rachel’s death did its job.’ He waves the glowing arrow. ‘See, it’s as good as new. Now I’ll be the only one dictating love, not teenage girls.’

  Ben drops my hand and crosses his arms. So that’s what Eros meant when he said I had what was needed. What was needed was Ben.

  ‘Precisely,’ Eros nodded having heard my thoughts.

  ‘And why the tree?’ I repeat.

  ‘This made an inconspicuous perch.’

  Ben lets out a scornful laugh. ‘If you wanted to be inconspicuous, you should’ve rethought the purple cape.’

  ‘It’s a cloak,’ Eros says, in a monotone.

  ‘The glowing arrow isn’t helping either.’

  Eros ignores him and looks at me. ‘Good job on the funeral arrangements.’ He motions towards the distant crowd.

  Ben grumbles, ‘She wouldn’t have needed a funeral if it wasn’t for you.’

  ‘I suppose you could look at it like that,’ says Eros, ‘or you could look at it as your chance to be with Rachel. But listen, I’m not here to argue with you, Ben. I’m here because …’ Eros’s attention trails off as he watches the helicopter circle around.

  ‘Because what?’ I say, but he doesn’t even bother looking down. ‘What?’ I fight the urge to yell, conscious of my funeral happening a short distance away. The last thing I need is to draw attention to the three of us. Eros’s arrow is practically a beacon as it is.

  ‘Is he always like this?’ Ben asks.

  I shrug.

  ‘Eros,’ I sigh, ‘because what?’

  His head drops and he leans forward like he’s about to tell us a secret. Ben and I step closer, careful not to stand on the grave in front of us. Eros leans in further still.

  ‘Dramatic,’ Ben whispers as Eros leans in a little too far. He slips from the branch in a flurry of purple robe and golden bow and falls hard into a heap on the unmarked grave at our feet.

  I gasp, drop to my knees, toss the bow aside and dig through the layers of cloth, looking for his head. When I finally unbury his face, there’s no bruises or bleeding, but he isn’t awake either. My hands rush to the side of his neck, fingertips searching frantically for a pulse. When I feel the gentle beat, I exhale in relief.

  ‘Eros?’ I pat his cheek.

  Ben crouches beside us and tries to pull me back. ‘Rachel, stop.’

  ‘He could be hurt.’ I pull away from Ben and nudge Eros.

  ‘Rachel,’ Ben says more firmly, but I continue, shaking the god until his curls bob and his teeth clack.

  ‘Rachel. Stop!’

  I freeze, dropping my grip and watching Eros’s head fall back. Ben’s never spoken to me like that. ‘But—’

  He grabs me, pulling me away like he thinks the god’s about to explode, and settles us behind a headstone, sheltering me with his body. ‘Rach, he won’t wake up.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ I push away, twisting to face him, but Ben isn’t looking at me. I follow his panicked gaze to a small blue-and-yellow dart sticking out of Eros’s shoulder, partially covered by his purple hood. My heart quickens, and a new sense of dread washes over me.

  ‘Stay here,’ Ben orders. He crawls on his stomach, across graves and rusted patches of grass, dirtying the nice black suit he’s wearing. A suit he wore to honour me. When he’s within arm’s reach of Eros, he dislodges the dart and turns it in his fingers, looking it over.

  Ben waves me back, but I ignore him and rush to his side. I kneel there, clinging to Eros’s hand, remembering the relief his touch once gave me, and wishing he’d just wake up. ‘What is it?’ I ask.

  His blue eyes knit together, focused on inspection. ‘I’m not sure. My guess is it’s a tranquilizer dart. It looks like one my dad had in his fishing kit. Whatever it is, we need to get out of here. Now.’

  ‘We can’t just leave him,’ I say, taking in the peaceful way he seems to sleep. I can only imagine who’d want to get their hands on a god.

  Ben grabs my arm and ushers me lower to the ground. His jaw tightens. ‘We don’t know who shot him. They’re probably close.’

  My stomach twists at the thought. ‘Close is even more reason to get him out of here.’

  His grip on me falters. He leans in. ‘At least stay low until we come up with a plan.’

  The concern in his eyes is enough to make me listen. I crouch by Eros’s feet, ignoring the sting of gravel pressing into my knees and busying myself with wrapping the cloak around his legs. It’s not a completely idle task – I don’t want to trip on it later. It’s already going to be hard carrying a body out of a graveyard unnoticed, I don’t need to delay our getaway.

  ‘We shouldn’t leave that,’ I say, nodding to the glowing bow and arrow half buried in leaves.

  Ben takes in our surroundings, before finding it safe, and darting for the bow. He grabs them both and returns, kneeling beside me, helping wrap it into the cloak.

  ‘You take his arms, I’ll get his legs,’ I say, but the only part of Ben that moves are his eyes. They flick to mine, and he gives me t
hat look. The same one he gave in the crowded streets in front of the precinct before I was shot.

  It’s his goodbye.

  His eyes roll back and, he struggles to speak. Still, I’m certain the word that he’s mouthing is ‘Run.’

  ‘No!’ I gasp, dropping Eros’s legs and reaching for Ben.

  I’m too late.

  He falls through my fingers, landing twisted over Eros – a blue-and-yellow dart sticking at a strange angle out of his neck.

  I rip it out and clutch his body, trying to crawl us back towards the safety of the tree. Eros lays exposed. I can’t protect them both, and if I have to choose, it’s Ben.

  Always Ben.

  I choke back tears and clear my throat. ‘Benjamin Blake, don’t even think this means you’re getting out of meeting my Nani.’ I say it as though he can hear me. The truth is I don’t know if he can, but I can’t think like that. ‘Stay with me,’ I exhale. ‘Please.’

  His body is folded, limp. It makes it impossible to move without standing. In my current position, I’m an easy target. The blue-and-yellow helicopter begins to descend a short way away in a clearing of trees. Ben’s voice fills my head, telling me I’m being unsafe. It takes everything in me to drop him and dive for my own cover.

  I lean against the oak’s trunk, trying to catch my breath and think about what to do. Eros and Ben lie in a heap of twisted black and purple limbs. I’m not sure how to help them. I choke back the sob filling my throat and slink up the trunk, trying to get a good enough visual to see if the shooter is in the helicopter.

  A sharp sting sears into my skin, spreading its wildfire down my spine. I suck in a breath and reach over my shoulder. My shaky fingers find the plumes of a dart lodged between my blades, shaft pointing up.

  Sleep sinks quickly into my body, its blackness infringing my sight. The old oak’s branches become dark twisted arms reaching down. My eyes strain for Ben, to hold on to one last memory of him, to add something more to our short time together.

  Every angry slap of the helicopter propeller sends a shiver down my back. My legs wobble. Shadowy figures approach from the side. I blink, trying to clear my head, to steady my shaking fingers as they claw for the dart, wishing it was Ben’s hand they were reaching for instead.