Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)

by Light

  Aria scrambled away, eyes clamped shut and blood thundering in her ears. She didn’t want to see what was happening. She was too busy trying to catch her breath and slow the panicked rhythm of her heart. She couldn’t run away. She was paralyzed with fear, immobilized by her anxiety. And the most helpless thought was in knowing that at any moment he was going to reach out and grab her. He was going to curl his cold fingers around her skin, and she’d be powerless to stop it.

  Chapter 10

  Rome crept down the bumpy lane towards the cemetery on the far side of town, parking his car behind an old maple tree. He turned his key back in the ignition, staring out at the iron fence. Large, arching letters swept over the gate, reading: East Hill Cemetery. He could feel the chill in the air as it moved past his open window, ghosting over his skin.

  “Picking out a plot?” Kaleb quipped.

  “No,” Rome whispered, swinging his door wide and stepping out. “You can come with me if you want. Just… be respectful.”

  “Respectful of what? Why are we even at a cemetery?”

  “We are here because you insisted on following me, and you refused to get out of my car.”

  The gate creaked as Rome pushed it open just enough to slip past the chain holding it closed. The metal was so cold against his fingertips it felt wet. A winding stone path carried them into the reaching darkness.

  He hadn’t been to visit his mother since the beginning of summer. He didn’t get many chances to come see her, but when he did, he’d stay out all night, usually until sunrise. “What do you think happens when you die?” he asked, looking up at Kaleb out of the corner of his eye.

  Kaleb stared uneasily back at him as they ventured off the lane and into the soft, unkempt grass. He stepped over a broken headstone and started to really wonder about why they were here.

  “Stupid question,” Rome grumbled. “You probably never have to worry about that, right?”

  Kaleb shrugged. “Half-breeds never live very long.”

  “How old are you, anyways?”

  Kaleb chuckled hollowly back at him, shaking his head.

  “How old do you think I am?”

  A lone frog croaked off in the distance as Rome took a moment to think about it. The number one hundred and twelve came to mind, and he laughed when he realized he had just a little over one hundred and twelve thousand miles on his car. “Why not… One hundred and twelve,” he guessed with a smile.

  “I think I’m going to eat you now.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say you looked one hundred and twelve.”

  “Do you think I act that old, either?” Kaleb asked.

  “Ha, I suppose you have a point.”

  Mossy, aged headstones were scattered around modern new ones all over the lawn. Kaleb found himself looking at the dates and reading the names of the deceased, confused about why the very recent were mixed in with the very old. Many of them were from the 1700’s, and so weathered and worn they were illegible.

  Rome seemed to be scanning the names as he went.

  “Can you see in the dark?” Kaleb asked.

  The grounds were lit gently by the moon shining above them, and Rome could make out just enough of the surroundings in the dim light. “Yes, and no,” he answered. “I can see better than—well, I guess someone who’s human. But if I really want to see any kind of distance, I have to do this.” He closed his eyes, feeling the flecks of gold bleed into his irises. When he opened them, they were glowing brightly in contrast to the shadows cast over his face.

  Kaleb watched as Rome rubbed at his eyes, blinking them open again in the inky darkness. He wasn’t sure what he liked better, the gold or the blue.

  “I’m seventeen,” he finally answered.

  Rome chuckled.

  “You find that amusing?”

  “A seventeen year old vampire? Yeah, I find that a little funny,” he said. “So, were you like… born? Or did someone have to bite you?”

  “…I wasn’t bitten.”

  Tension lingered in the air between them as Rome contemplated just what that meant. Kaleb was a vampire, but that was only half of who he was. He was also a witch. To be born in the middle of a conflict with either of your parents on warring sides – that had to be tough.

  “Did you grow up around magic?” he asked covertly. What he was really trying to ask was if he’d been raised as a witch or a vampire.

  “I grew up around witches, but they were all slaves. No one is allowed to practice magic inside the clan. That’s why my father sent me away.”

  “It took a lot for him to get you here, didn’t it?” Rome mumbled. “I understand I might be overstepping my boundaries,” he said, pausing a moment, “but, how is it that you’re even… alive?” Kaleb swallowed thickly, stopping in the middle of the cemetery with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  Kaleb exhaled quietly.

  “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agreed. He stood there in the chill night air as Rome shifted awkwardly at his side. “My father is King. He chose to keep me. That’s the only reason I’m not dead.”

  “King,” Rome whispered. Something was playing at the back of his mind. “Wouldn’t that mean…?” He stepped directly in front of him, looking up at him with an intense expression. “How old is your father?”

  Kaleb stared back at him.

  Rome was trying to piece it all together, and he was so very close.

  “He’s older than all of us,” he answered. “He was the first.”

  Rome was speechless as they ventured further into the darkness, finally reaching what he’d been looking for. Kaleb’s eyes fell to him as he hovered silently over one of the graves, tracing a hand over the rough stone. He slipped to his knees, staring at the name like a lost child.

  Donna Navarro

  Beloved Mother, Cherished Wife

  “Your mother,” Kaleb said, not making it a question.

  He nodded wordlessly.

  “How long?”

  “…She was murdered six years ago.” Rome sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “I’m questioning everything...”

  He didn’t even know who he was anymore.

  Kaleb leaned against the base of a nearby tree, giving Rome a few peaceful seconds. “Why are you here?” he asked after a pause. “Does it make you feel comforted?”

  “Sometimes,” he said. “As for why I’m here, I wish I knew. She never told me anything, about any of this. I just wish I could talk to her, now more than ever.” A still silence wrapped around them, embracing the night as the air blew gently through the blades of grass and fallen leaves.

  “Do you believe in curses?” Rome asked.

  “Isn’t that what we are, cursed?”

  Rome let his eyes slip closed, forcing back more emotion than he was comfortable with. He just hoped Kaleb wouldn’t notice, or at the very least, that he wouldn’t comment. “It sort of feels like that, doesn’t it?” he said, turning around to press his back against the stone. He wrapped his arms around his bent knees, looking over at Kaleb. It was in that moment that he felt connected to him in some strange, unexplainable way. They’d grown up literally worlds apart, and yet they were more alike than either of them knew.

  “You called me an alpha. What does that mean?”

  Kaleb sighed. “Truthfully, I never paid much attention to my tutor, so I couldn’t tell you a lot. The only thing I really know is that you’re stronger than a normal werewolf, and you can infect people. You’re also supposed to be able to turn whenever you please, regardless of the phase of the moon.”

  Rome steepled his fingers together and frowned down at his shoes.

  “Infect? You mean like a disease?”

  “That’s what lycanthropy and vampirism are – magical diseases. Only an alpha can pass on a case of full blown lycanthropy, though someone bitten by a normal werewolf might develop some unique traits.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… being able to see
in the dark,” Kaleb said.

  Rome hummed in thought.

  “So, if I bit someone, I’d end up making another alpha?” he asked, trying not to let his face reflect the confusion he felt.

  “No. Alphas are born, not turned. It’s in your blood.”

  The answer settled over Rome like a thin sheet of ice. He knew now without a doubt. What he was, he’d inherited from his mother. What he couldn’t figure out was why she had never thought to tell him.

  “So can you?” Kaleb whispered excitedly.

  “Can I what?”

  “Transform whenever you want.”

  Rome nodded and Kaleb’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. He knew the next question that was going to come out of his mouth.

  “Will you show me?”

  Rome sat there contemplating the question. Strangely, his first instinct wasn’t to say no. The thought of being able to share that with someone was tempting. “What if I hurt you?” he said seriously. “I don’t like you half the time, but I still don’t think I could live with that.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Kaleb assured him. “I wouldn’t let you.” He could tell by the slant of his eyes that he didn’t believe him.

  Rome got to his feet, muttering, “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.” He sighed, pausing to point at Kaleb sternly before circling around the tree.

  Kaleb frowned, following curiously after him. He pressed his shoulder into the bark and crossed his arms, watching avidly as Rome started to remove his shirt. That’s when he saw them. Rome’s entire back was covered in scars. They twisted across his skin like a grizzly story, spread out in thin, overlapping lines and gnarled bits of flesh. A collection of circular scars dotted along the top of his left shoulder, some crammed so closely together that they looked like one, massive burn.

  Rome whirled around, tugging his shirt back down.

  “I told you to wait!” he barked.

  “No,” Kaleb breathed, “you pointed at me.”

  “Same thing!”

  “…Where did you get those?”

  “I—”

  A distant scream rose through the trees and Rome’s head snapped to the side, staring off in the direction it had come from.

  Kaleb frowned into the distance.

  “You heard that, right?”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Kaleb said.

  A few seconds passed in silence as the sounds of their hearts pounding hung loudly in the air. Rome was listening so intently he could hear insects moving along the ground. Another sharp scream pierced his ears, and he bolted across the lawn, leaping over headstones and weaving past trees. A soft curse and the crunching of leaves followed as Kaleb raced after him.

  Chapter 11

  The silver metal of the gun glinted under the flickering light. A single, shaking hand played at the trigger of the 9mm revolver. One little squeeze, and Christian was dead. Rome watched Christian as he breathed slowly, the hot air from his lungs twisting out of his mouth like smoke. He tipped his chin down, leaning forward as though he planned to rush his attacker. The sole of Rome’s boot curled slowly over the edge of the blacktop as Ariahna pressed her palms into the pavement. He was shaking with the realization that at any moment, someone was going to die. A mix of fury and fear prickled sharply over his skin, and a deathly silence hung in the air, along with the unmistakable tang of blood. There was a guy slouched against the cement with blood seeping slowly from the back of his skull. Rome wasn’t sure, but it seemed like he wasn’t breathing.

  The sound of the chamber clicking felt deafening in his ears.

  “Hey!” Rome shouted. The guy who was holding the gun whirled towards him, and a gunshot rang out, echoing off the brick.

  People say that when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. All Rome could see was the flare of the gun, the slow twist of the bullet as it left the barrel. He had so much time to watch what was about to happen, but he couldn’t make himself move and get out of the way. A hand shot out and yanked him into a solid body, and Rome went stumbling back with Kaleb as a sharp sting blossomed over his cheek. The warm trickle of blood slipped over his skin as he blinked up into scared blue eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Kaleb whispered.

  Rome was trembling, unable to answer him as he pressed his forehead into Kaleb’s shoulder. He turned his head slowly, swallowing his heart back down as his brain struggled to understand what was going on. The gun was gone. The guy who’d shot at him was on the ground, and Christian was beating his face in with his fists. He knew he needed to get to him, stop him, but he still couldn’t make himself move.

  He was barely managing to breathe.

  Rome took three slow breaths, blinking languidly against the nausea settling in his stomach. Kaleb had his arms wrapped around him, holding him to his chest. “You can let me go now,” he said, pressing his hands against his body and trying to step back. “Seriously, let me go.” The distinct sound of Kaleb’s heart thundering against the inside of his chest stopped him. Rome wasn’t sure what was more unsettling – the idea that Kaleb might have been scared for him, or the fact that his heart was beating at all.

  “…We have to get out of here,” he said, stepping under the flickering light with Kaleb at his heels. He could already hear the sirens wailing to life off in the distance. Someone must have heard the gunshot.

  “No,” Aria said. Christian’s arms tightened around her waist. “Do you know how bad it will look if we run away? We just need to wait until the police get here and give them our statement.”

  “They aren’t going to last very long,” Kaleb said, tipping his head towards the two men lying unconscious on the ground.

  Rome turned to look at them in confusion. It was as though he had forgotten they were even there. He didn’t even know how Christian had gone from beating the guy’s face in to cradling Aria in his arms.

  “Can you fix them?” Rome asked in a small voice.

  Kaleb tensed at the question. “It’s not that simple.”

  “What do you mean? Can you save them, or not?”

  “To heal them, I’d have to give them my blood. That’s not something you do lightly.”

  “I’ll owe you. Anything you want. Just—do it. Before it’s too late.” Rome knew if they died someone was going down for murder, and he had the feeling that someone would be him.

  Kaleb stared back at him with a hard look on his face. If Rome had any idea what he was asking him to do, he doubted he’d be insisting upon it. He shook his head gently as he drifted over to the man with the head trauma. He knelt down beside him, shifting uncomfortably on his knees. “If I do this,” he mumbled, “I’m linked to them. At least until my blood leaves their system – assuming it will. Assuming I don’t give them too much and bind myself to them permanently. I’d be leaving a mark, a connection between us. If they were seriously injured, or if one of them died, I don’t know what would happen to me.” He looked back at Rome, gauging his reaction to that information. The only thing he could read on his face was fear. Kaleb closed his eyes and turned back to the bleeding man.

  “Fine,” he whispered. Sharp teeth shot down from the roof of his mouth and he raised his wrist to his lips, biting quickly into skin. He held his mouth over the wound as he leaned over the nameless face he might be tying himself to for life. If this went wrong, if the man was too close to death, he might just be creating another vampire. The knot in his stomach twisted as he worked the man’s jaw open and pressed his bleeding wrist against his tongue.

  Moments later, he was choking to life, coughing and sputtering blood as it bubbled up his throat. Rome wasn’t sure if it was Kaleb’s blood he was choking on, or his own, but either way, the guy was alive.

  “They’re getting closer, we have to hurry,” Rome said.

  “You’re being stupid,” Ariahna yelled. “We just need to calm down and think clearly. Those two saw us. They will tell the police.” She took an unsteady breath, trying not to look down at the wounded s
trangers, or the blood pooling lightly around their bodies.

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m with him,” Christian said, pushing off of the pavement with her in his arms. “I’m not sticking around to find out if I’m getting charged with double homicide.”

  They ran back across the playground and through the open field, reaching his car in what felt like record time. Rome whipped out onto the old road, kicking up gravel. It pinged against the back window in a billowing cloud of dirt. They had all shuffled into the car, and despite his protest, Aria and Christian were sitting together in the backseat. He looked over his shoulder, staring momentarily at their joined hands. It was more than enough to make him jealous. And somehow, Kaleb, who was sitting quietly with his arms crossed and his eyes scanning the passing scenery, was only making Rome more irritable. This was not going to be a fun trip.

  He could smell Christian all over her, in her clothing and in her hair. Soft pink lipstick stained his chin, standing out like a blatant slap in Rome’s face. He wondered briefly if she even felt guilty. If she did, he couldn’t tell.

  “Maybe you should pull over,” she suggested meekly, squeezing Christian’s hand as Rome stepped on the gas.

  “Why, so you and your date can make out in the backseat of my car? I don’t fucking think so.” Rome’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, making the leather groan under the abuse.

  “It wasn’t a date,” she replied, placing her hands in her lap.

  Honestly, they were both scaring her.

  “Seriously?” Christian said. “You’re going with, ‘it wasn’t a date’?”

  “What were you thinking even going down there with him in the first place? This guy’s a fucking douchebag.”

  “Hey,” Christian said. “Don’t talk to her like that. Or me, for that matter. You were the one at a cemetery in the middle of the damn night doing God knows what with your giant, long-haired girlfriend.”

  Kaleb’s check twitched.