Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)

by Light

  Rome slipped carefully through the narrow space between what was left of the door and what remained of the wall. The nurse was not going to be happy about that. Kaleb was sauntering away with his hands in his pockets. His nonchalant gait was getting on Rome’s last nerve.

  “Hey!” he yelled.

  Kaleb didn’t look back.

  Rome chased after him, limping down the hallway. He grabbed Kaleb by the shirt, throwing him into an empty room and closing the door behind them. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

  Kaleb rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

  “If you’re going to kill me, then you might as well get on with it,” Rome said. “Hell, you’d be doing me a favor. I’m up to my eyeballs in curses and magic and supernatural bullshit. Dealing with trying to figure out what the hell I even am. And you keep throwing what you are in my face, like you’re waiting for me to do something about it – like you want me to hurt you. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be your friend. And maybe if you could get over your crap for two minutes, that could actually happen. I get it, okay? You have baggage. You don’t like yourself, or what you are. Join the fucking club.”

  Kaleb looked at him slowly, waiting for him to get to the point.

  “I don’t think you’re filthy or vile, and I don’t hate you,” Rome said. “You’re not worthless, or ugly. And yes, I knew exactly who you were talking to. I can feel all that self-hatred burning you alive inside like acid.” His fingers bit into Kaleb’s stomach, emphasizing his point. “But it doesn’t have to be like that. We don’t have to be at each other’s throats.”

  “Don’t talk to me like you know me,” Kaleb said morosely, glaring at the ugly white tile. “I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

  “Really? That’s your big plan?” Kaleb’s glare snapped up to Rome. The way he was looking at him, you’d think he had a sniper rifle hidden somewhere. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said. “How about you help me limp past the nurse and we can kill some time together; preferably in a non-hostile way? Because if I have to listen to that clock ticking on the wall for one more minute, I’m going to go crazy.” He jabbed a finger at the offending object in utter annoyance. Before he could blink, the glass shattered and the clock went tumbling to the floor. Rome scowled at it. “If anyone asks,” he said, “I wrecked the room, and you broke the stupid clock.”

  He felt himself start to sway, his vision going black.

  Rome went sailing towards the ground, and Kaleb rushed forward, catching him before he could crack his head open on the floor. He hoisted him up into his arms, looking down at his unconscious form in concern.

  “What am I supposed to do now?” Kaleb sighed.

  “…Nurse?”

  Chapter 17

  Recurring dreams, it’s often said, are our unconscious’s way of speaking to us. They can be frightening, and confusing. Often they make little sense to the waking mind. But at their core, they carry a message. Some important lesson for us to learn, or a revelation we need to receive. The recurrence happens when we fail to understand it; when the problem persists without resolution, or we ignore the dilemma completely.

  For Ariahna, there was one dream in particular that would never cease. It had left her restless for countless nights, ever since she was little. What terrified her most was the belief that it wasn’t a dream, though. In her mind, it never had been. That sequence that kept her awake, worrying and turning into the night… it was only an inevitability.

  Aria pressed her face against the solid warmth beside her, fingers twisting in soft fabric. She breathed in the faint scent of cologne, smiling and mumbling Rome’s name. It took a moment for her brain to register that she was cuddling with a boy, in a bed much too stiff to be her own. She opened her eyes, blinking back at Rome’s sleeping face in confusion.

  The last thing she remembered was staring up at the stars.

  Why was she in the infirmary?

  “Rome?” He made a grumbling noise and his arm curled around her waist, making her blush. “Rome, wake up… Why are you in my bed?”

  Rome inhaled sharply, startling awake at her words. “What?” he mumbled. He pulled away so quickly that he went rolling right off the bed. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  Aria pressed a hand to her mouth, staring down at him in concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “I tried to wake you, and I looked for extra blankets. I was just worried. You were shivering and sweating, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Rome was talking a mile a minute and it was making Aria’s head spin. “How did I even get here?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I just woke up in the middle of the night and heard you whimpering in your sleep. You were so sick that—”

  “—that you crawled into my bed?”

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “But it was just to keep you warm, I swear.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, covering herself with the blankets. She sighed quietly. “What time is it?”

  “Um…” Rome looked around for a clock, but the walls in the room were uncharacteristically bare. “Honestly, I have no clue,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “Do you want me to go get the nurse?”

  “No.” She sat up, pressing her back against the metal bedframe. “Shouldn’t you be resting? I don’t want to get you sick.”

  Rome perched on the edge of the mattress, smiling at her softly. He couldn’t catch common illnesses like that. Something about what he was prevented him from getting sick. He didn’t really understand it, and he couldn’t exactly tell her not to worry because he was a werewolf.

  “I have a strong immune system,” he said.

  Ariahna looked unconvinced.

  “So what happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” she mumbled. “I think I fell asleep on the roof.”

  “The roof? Why were you on the roof?”

  “Um…” She turned sheepishly away. Rome slipped a hand over her forehead abruptly and she jumped. “I… was meeting someone.”

  He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “This someone wouldn’t happen to be named Christian, would he?”

  “I never said it was a he…”

  “You never said it wasn’t.”

  She exhaled quietly. “Yes, I was meeting Christian, okay?”

  “And he left you on the roof?”

  “I asked him to leave. It’s my own fault.”

  Rome didn’t believe that for an instant.

  I’m going to kill him, he thought.

  Ariahna shivered violently, wrapping her arms around herself.

  “Are you still cold?” he asked. She nodded wordlessly and he crawled back onto the bed, pulling her against his side. “Better?”

  “Yes,” she smiled.

  “So… you’re not mad at me?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not mad.”

  “Okay. Good. Maybe we should lay back down then?”

  “The nurse could come in,” she whispered, shifting uneasily.

  “Are you alright? You seem… scared. I didn’t do anything, did I?”

  “I’m just not feeling well.”

  “Do you want a glass of water, or maybe a wet cloth?”

  Ariahna smiled stiffly. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “You’re the one who was seriously injured. How are you feeling, by the way?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m even tougher than I look,” he grinned.

  The comment had her donning a laughing smile.

  “So, I’ve been thinking… curses can be broken, right?”

  “…Usually, yes. If you know what kind of curse it is.”

  “Okay, so, a death curse. That can’t be too hard, right?”

  “Rome,” she sighed.

  “I know. It’s okay,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m used to it.”

  “Used to what?”

  He wasn’t sure he knew how to explain. Not without sounding like a nut. “It’s just that�
� it doesn’t surprise me that I’m plagued with some ancient curse, you know? I mean, why not? Honestly, it’s just one thing on a long list of crap that doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.”

  “You can’t have that kind of outlook,” she said.

  Rome turned to look at her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Go out with me. Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”

  “I think I’m done with dating for a while,” she said.

  Rome frowned softly at her. There was that feeling again.

  “Did he do something to you?”

  “He just showed me who he really is.”

  “Well, I promise I won’t leave you alone on a roof,” he smiled.

  Aria returned the gesture weakly. “I’ll think about it. For now, I just want to get some rest. I still feel kind of tired.” She wiggled down beneath the sheets, closing her eyes as Rome curled up beside her. His presence was comforting, and his warmth was more than welcomed.

  “What was the song you were playing, in the auditorium?”

  “…I Dreamed A Dream. It’s from the play, Les Misérables.”

  Rome couldn’t help but think about the haunting lyrics. The words had been stuck in his head ever since he’d heard her singing them. Replaying it in his mind, he knew that something that sincere could have only come from somewhere deep. It was the difference between knowing a song, and understanding it – feeling it completely.

  “Aria?” he mumbled.

  She hummed softly in question.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  Chapter 18

  The stairwell was empty. It was early still, and that eerie kind of silence of a large space unoccupied filled the halls. Christian jogged up to the fourth floor, taking the steps two at a time. He’d heard Ariahna had ended up in the infirmary yesterday, and he couldn’t trick himself into thinking he wasn’t worried about her. He stopped outside of the nurse’s office, staring at the door in turmoil. Would she even want to see him? He blinked the worry away. He had to know that she was alright.

  The front desk was abandoned when he crept through the door. The nurse was probably still in her apartment, getting ready for the day. Just as well, he thought. He didn’t want to have another argument with her about visiting hours. Christian slipped down the hallway, knocking quietly on the first closed door he came across.

  “Aria?” he whispered. “Are you in there?” He tried a few more doors without luck until only one room remained. She had to be in there.

  Rome growled as a knock came at the door, waking him up, again. “Go away,” he said, hugging Ariahna to his chest. They were spooning, and it was the most comfortable he’d been in years – even with a dead arm and a mouth full of hair. The door clicked open and Rome sat up.

  “I said, go away.”

  “What the fuck are you doing in here?” Christian said, sounding more stunned than anything. His voice made Aria stir gently.

  Rome glanced down at her before slipping unwillingly from the sheets. He slapped a hand over Christian’s chest and shoved him out into the hall, closing the door behind him. “She doesn’t want to see you.”

  He tossed Rome’s hand away. “What are you, her keeper?”

  “I’m someone who actually cares about her, which is more than I can say for you. You left her up on the god-damn roof to catch pneumonia.”

  “Is she alright?”

  “She’s fine, no thanks to you.” Christian was so quiet he could hear him thinking. “…I actually wanted to talk to you,” Rome muttered.

  “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

  “The counselor,” he said. “What’s going on there?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Is he forcing himself on you?”

  “No,” Christian said. “Just stay out of my damn business.”

  “Look, I’ll be honest – I don’t like you, at all. But that doesn’t mean I should ignore what I saw. Which was you, dashing out of his office and him pulling up his damn pants. I’m not stupid.”

  “You’ve got it wrong.”

  “So then you won’t mind if I talk to the principle about it?”

  “Don’t,” Christian seethed. “I said stay out of my business.”

  “I’m not talking to you about this to upset you. I’m trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help,” he said. “Butt out.”

  “What does he have on you? What has you so damn scared?”

  “Just back off,” Christian growled, slamming Rome back against the door with one hard shove. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. “I didn’t come here to play twenty questions, I came to see Aria. So are you going to get out of the damn way or not?”

  “No fucking way,” Rome breathed, his voice filled with shock. Christian’s eyes were burning yellow, shimmering with anger and the onset of tears. “…You’re like me.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, you trailer trash piece of shit? You and I, we are nothing alike.”

  Rome grabbed Christian by the shirt and tugged him into the bathroom, shoving him in front of the sink. “Look at yourself,” he insisted.

  The moment Christian caught sight of his own reflection he just about jumped out of his skin. “Holy fuck,” he whispered, pulling his eyelids open and examining his irises in the mirror. “I caught something. She gave me some kind of magical disease!”

  “What? No, you’re a werewolf, you fucking moron.”

  “Bullshit,” he exclaimed, turning to him as the effect faded.

  “It all makes perfect sense,” Rome mumbled. “Think about it. You said you blacked out, that you couldn’t remember anything. But that guy, the one who was bleeding all over the pavement, his skull was practically crushed in. And the way Kaleb was reacting to you… If you’re not a werewolf, you’re going to be, and soon.”

  Christian shook his head adamantly no.

  “This, whatever it is,” he said, circling a finger around his face, “is something contagious. Aria did this crazy ass shit the other night.”

  Rome’s forehead creased in confusion.

  “No, there’s no way. I’d know if she was a werewolf. I’d be able to sense it.” A stunned look crashed over Christian’s face, and suddenly he was blinking back at him consideringly.

  “Wait, are you… are you trying to say that you’re a werewolf?”

  Rome inhaled sharply, holding the breath in his lungs.

  “I’m not, not saying that,” he said noncommittally.

  Christian’s eyes widened in disbelief.

  “Oh my god,” he muttered. “You’re fucking crazy. There’s no way either of us are werewolves. They were exiled.” A revelation struck him. “We both kissed her,” he said abruptly. “We have some kind of crazy, magical kissing disease. Like mono with glowy eyes.”

  Rome groaned quietly, holding his hands in the air and trying to summon any remaining patience he had left. “I am a werewolf,” he said slowly, “and I have been for over a year. The things that you’re going through right now, I went through. Blackouts, trouble sleeping, inexplicable bursts of strength, heightened hearing, an acute sense of smell,” he said, checking each one off on his fingers. “Not to mention empathy. Trust me on this one, the first time you feel someone else’s emotions, you’re going to shit a brick.”

  “You’re serious,” he said. He turned away from him, pressing his lower back into the sink. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “I refuse to believe that.” The problem was he did believe it. He’d felt all of the things Rome was describing. These last few days, the things he’d experienced—he’d thought he was going out of his mind.

  Christian turned a lost look to Rome. “Did you do this to me?” he said. “Why would you do this to me? Take it back, I don’t want it.”

  “I didn’t do anything to you. And as far as I know, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Christian threaded his fingers anxiously through his hair. “Fuck. I didn’t ne
ed this. Why the hell is this happening?” He looked up at Rome with a horrified expression on his face. “Oh god, I’m going to be some big ugly beast. I’m going to get fleas, and ear mites,” he moaned.

  Rome was startled into laughter. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Well how does it work then?”

  “I guess it depends on what you are. I think it’s different if you’re an alpha, or just a regular wolf.”

  “What are you?”

  “Alpha.”

  “So you could like, change right now?” Christian asked, looking at him nervously. Rome moved and he panicked. “Don’t do it!”

  “What? I’m not. You need to calm down.”

  “Are you kidding me? You just told me I’m a fucking werewolf and you expect me to be all Gandhi about it? I’m sorry Mother-fucking-Teresa, I’m not a damn saint!”

  “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Rome said.

  Christian’s face went dark. He flew forward, grabbing the collar of Rome’s shirt and shoving him towards the wall. He blinked, and somehow he was the one eating plaster. Rome’s palm slapped over the side of his face, grinding his cheek into the ugly pink paint.

  “If I let you go, are you going to lunge at me again?”

  “No,” he lied.

  “I can help you with this if you stop being so damn stubborn.”

  “I don’t want your help,” Christian bit out.

  “What you want and need are clearly two very different things.”

  “Let me go.”

  “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

  Christian turned, spine flush to the wall as he stared blankly into the mirror. “My life is over. I’m a freak. A dangerous freak.”

  Rome slapped him gently across the jaw.

  “Hey,” he said, “you’re not a freak.”

  Christian nodded distantly.

  “Answer this one question for me. Were you bitten?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?” Rome said.

  “I think I’d remember a rabid dog attacking me.”

  “Then you were born with it,” he grinned.

  “What is this, a Maybelline commercial? How is that good?”

  “It means you inherited it from one of your parents. All you need to do is talk to them. They’ll be able to answer more questions than I can.”