Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)

by Light

  “…Trust is a hard commodity to come by.”

  “The first time I asked you if you trusted me, you said yes, without hesitation. And you didn’t even know me then,” he said.

  Ariahna sighed. “Saying you trust someone and meaning it are two separate things. But you’re right, I’m just scared.” She bit her lip nervously, staring at the space of floor between them. “I’m a nahual,” she shrugged, crossing her arms self-consciously.

  Rome smiled, closing the distance between them. “I want you to know you’re not alone anymore, that you can tell me anything.” His hands cupped the sides of her face, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “When I told you that I loved you, it was more than a feeling. It was a commitment, a promise of protection and understanding. I will never betray your trust, and I will guard you and all your secrets with my life.”

  She touched the back of his hands, smiling at him happily.

  “I can’t imagine having never known you,” she said.

  “When we get back, do you want to spend the rest of the day together? Not with the journal, or anything curse related. Just… us?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. She didn’t even care if that meant skipping class. Her father was already mad at her. She was actually a bit surprised he hadn’t sent her a letter yet. It wasn’t possible that he’d forgotten finding her necklace at that crime scene. The universe just wasn’t that kind. Ariahna took Rome’s hand and pulled him away from the desk.

  “Let’s keep looking,” she said.

  “So do you think he has some secret compartment or something in here where he hides things?” he asked, pressing the tip of his boot against the floorboards curiously.

  “I’m almost positive he does… This house has a lot of secrets.”

  As they were passing by the fireplace, Rome was suddenly overwhelmed by a scent he hadn’t smelt in years. It was so strong it was making his eyes water as he stopped to stare at the hearth.

  “I think something’s behind this,” he said.

  Ariahna frowned at the fireplace. “How do you know?”

  “It’s going to sound strange,” he mumbled, “but I can smell my mother’s perfume. This has to open somehow.” He ran his hands along the mantle, searching for some kind of trigger.

  “Recludo,” she whispered, flicking her hand at the hearth. The stone trembled, shaking loose dust and soot.

  “What’s that supposed to do?”

  “It’s an incantation. It’s supposed to open or unlock things.”

  “It definitely seems like this can move,” he said. “Is there some sort of spell that could show us what we’re missing?”

  Aria frowned at him in thought.

  “There is a spell that’s used to reveal what is hidden. I’m not sure it would work in this case, though,” she said.

  “No harm in trying.”

  She exhaled softly, touching the stone and letting her eyes fall over the cracked surface of the marble. “Detego,” she said strongly. Her eyes widened in astonishment when the center of the mantle collapsed into a small, pyramid-shaped concave, situated inside of an equally small circle.

  “Um… What now?”

  Ariahna grinned excitedly.

  “It’s a key,” she said, turning and stalking over to her father’s desk. She picked up a paperweight that was identical in size and shape to the indent. “I used to play with this all the time when I was little. I almost broke it once, and I remember my father was enraged.” She fit the pyramid into the mantle, pressing it in until it was flush with the rest of the stone.

  Nothing happened.

  “…I don’t get it. That should have worked.”

  Rome smirked when he realized what she hadn’t. “You have to turn a lock to open it,” he said, twisting the circle carefully and with great effort. It snapped into place and the back of the fireplace receded, slipping to the side.

  Aria bent her knees, walking through the fireplace and stepping into a darkened room. “Limino,” she said. Yellow light sprung up from her palm, illuminating the space and the objects within. As she suspected, there was a collection of old, tattered books, some rather peculiar artifacts scattered around, and a few boxes of memorabilia. Along the far wall in a display case rested the old carved box that housed their family wand. She smiled at it, turning to look back at Rome over her shoulder as he ducked inside.

  “It’s here,” she said.

  Rome knew he should head straight for the wand. He didn’t. He followed the scent to a few boxes in the corner. He had to know what was inside – he had to know why they smelled so strongly of his mother. He pealed back the cardboard as the flickering light from Ariahna’s hand grew closer. Nestled inside was a stack of old papers. It didn’t take him long to figure out they were love letters.

  “I have to admit, it’s a little discouraging knowing that we’re following in the footsteps of everyone who came before us.” He leaned back against the wall, staring down at the soft cursive. “And it begs the question, if it was as simple as destroying the wands, why wouldn’t someone have figured that out before now?”

  “It could be a matter of greed,” she whispered. “Something as powerful as these wands… it would be hard to destroy them willingly.”

  “Power or love?” he replied. “I don’t know about you, but that seems like an easy choice to me.”

  “Most things seem easy enough when all you’re doing is talking about them. Making the choice, I’d imagine, is much harder.”

  He stared back at her quietly for a moment. “I’m not going to force you into anything,” he said. “We can take the wand, or we can leave it right where it is. That’s completely up to you.”

  Aria smiled at him gently.

  “I know what choice I’m making. It’s not even a contest for me between love and power. I just meant… maybe it’s not as easy for everyone.”

  She glanced down at their hands as she threaded their fingers together. Her thoughts were on their parents – Rome’s mother, her father. The wand was still in one piece, the curse still upon them, and Donna—she was dead. Her father had chosen an heirloom over the woman he apparently loved. And now, now all he had left of her was a box of memories hidden away in a dusty little room. She sighed, turning to smile at Rome with weary eyes.

  “I’d never place anything above the value of your life.”

  Chapter 39

  Logan leaned against the back of the bleachers, pressing his shoulders into the metal. It was an uneventful afternoon, and he and his following of idiots were all ditching out on class and shooting the shit. But as he swept his eyes around the circle, he felt as bored as if he was stuck sitting through one of Mrs. Brill’s lectures. Trent pressed close to his side, eyeing the envelope he was smacking against his palm like an empty pack of cigarettes.

  “This shit is so tired,” he sighed. “Could you two maybe stop making out for ten fucking seconds?” Tabitha and Ian broke apart, staring at the group with stunned faces. Adam had been admiring their technique a little too closely. “How about we do something interesting for once?”

  “Like what?” Trent argued, flipping his hood up and shoving his hands in his pockets. “This is about as exciting as this town gets.” Logan’s fidgeting was getting on his last nerve. He eyed the envelope again, feeling his fingers twitch. “Give me that,” he snapped, reaching over and ripping it from his hands. Logan fixed him with a glare and Trent smirked down at the cursive. “Logan, I didn’t realize you were a redheaded slut,” he said. “Maybe you’d like to suck my dick? How’s that for entertainment?”

  Logan shot him a sideways glance, glaring at the small silver lighter Trent had pulled from his pocket. “If you destroy the one thing I value most in this world, you will come to regret it.” Trent flipped open the lighter, igniting the flame and narrowing his eyes. He was waiting impatiently for him to elaborate. “Information,” Logan said slowly, raising his eyebrows in a condescending manner. “…Isn’t it ironic that in a school that spare
s no expense, student mail is so easily accessible?”

  “What if there’s something important in there, though?” Brooke said, dangling upside down with her legs wrapped around one of the support beams. “Like a birthday card or something. That would be the worst if someone stole your birthday cash.”

  “What are you, five?” Trent breathed, dangling a corner of the envelope precariously over the flame. “Hey Logan, what would you do to get it back? Because I’m just itching for a fucking cigarette.”

  “The more important question is, what will I do to you if you’re stupid enough to destroy it? Because you know I’m out,” he said, a dangerous smile playing at his lips. He tossed an empty pack of Marlboro’s towards him, snatching the letter back as he extinguished the flame with a gust of air. “Don’t fuck with me again. Having dirty details on someone else is infinitely more rewarding than whatever little thrill you’d get out of pissing me off.”

  “Are you guys scared of each other?” Adam wondered. “Or do you two cancel each other out like a double negative?”

  “Do you always ask stupid questions?” Trent replied. “Or is that your way of saying you’d like a beating?”

  Logan laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s always looking for a beating. I think he likes it. All the physical contact just gives him good feelings,” he taunted, stalking over and whapping Adam on the face with the envelope.

  “Are you going to stop dicking around anytime soon and read that thing, or what?” Trent said, giving Ian and Tabitha a strained look out of the corner of his eye. They’d started making out again, and he smirked, sending a slow-moving cold slithering out of his fingertips and up the metal at Tabitha’s back. She startled, shoving Ian away.

  “What the hell, babe?” he said, holding his arms up at his sides.

  “Why don’t you stick your tongue to that and see what happens?” Trent said cruelly.

  “Or maybe I’ll just press your tender bits to it instead,” she said.

  “Alright,” Logan sighed, “enough of this bullshit.” He ripped open the letter and neatly unfolded the stationary. The thing stunk of brandy so bad it seemed like it had been saturated in it. “Well, someone’s been drinking,” he smirked, noting the stained paper. “My Dearest Daughter…”

  Adam snickered at the formal greeting.

  “Fuck, is this guy serious?” Logan said, grinning and shaking his head. “I am baffled by your complete lack of obedience. I would have thought you’d have learned by now how to properly respect and represent this family, but I see that you’re just as stupid and incompetent as ever.”

  “Wait, what?” Adam laughed, leaning over Logan’s shoulder to get a better look. “Damn, I thought you were making that shit up.”

  “Harsh,” Brooke mumbled.

  “Who honestly gives a shit?” Trent said. “So she’s a dirty cunt with daddy issues. Cry me a fucking river.”

  “…I did not raise you to gallivant around on the east side of town in the middle of the night like some tramp,” Logan read with a grin. “Wow, I guess even daddy knows what his precious daughter is.”

  “Are you sure this wasn’t addressed to Tabitha?” Adam quipped.

  Logan actually laughed at that. “I’m pretty sure Tabitha’s parents have stopped trying. See? She’s not even fazed by it anymore. She’s accepted her place in the grand web of give and take.” He dropped into a stage whisper, leaning towards her as he did. “Speaking of, meet me in my room later.”

  Ian shot him a mildly annoyed glare.

  Adam craned his neck, reading on ahead without them. “God, I can’t believe Christian slept with this chick. I need to warn him that her father’s a freaking psycho.”

  “Please,” Logan drawled. “This shit is so weak it’s pathetic. Is he trying to threaten her, or make her giggle? I’ve heard scarier threats from a preschooler.” The other’s looked curious to know what they were referring to, so he continued reading. “You are lucky we are not having this conversation in person. Had I not been so busy I might have made another trip to your school just to teach you a lesson. It’s obvious to me it’s one that needs repeating. You can be sure I will be beating it into your thick skull when you return for break. Don’t make any plans, your time is mine.” Logan scoffed. “Your time is mine? Is that really the best he could do? Short of adding ‘or else’ to the end of all this, this is about as uninspired as it gets.”

  “Did I hear someone say my name?” Christian said, stepping under the large understructure. Kaleb followed closely at his heels. He slowed as they approached the group, dropping into a whisper. “Can I count on you to have my back? Because things might get interesting.”

  Kaleb shrugged. “Probably not.”

  “Hey Christian,” Brooke said flirtatiously.

  She flipped onto her feet, scrambling to fix her hair. He couldn’t help but think she looked like an idiot. “Hey Brooke,” he smirked, walking up and resting an arm over her shoulders. He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the look she was giving him. “So, what are you reading?”

  “Let’s just say your girl’s got some serious daddy issues,” Adam breathed, circling a finger near the side of his head.

  “You’re going to have to be more specific,” he laughed. “Are we talking about a girl I’ve already had between the sheets or one on my to do list? Because daddy issues can work to your advantage if you know how to play it right.”

  “What’s with the pet vampire?” Logan asked finally, staring Kaleb down. “Don’t tell me you’re actually hanging out with this freak?”

  “I’d watch your words Logan, or he’ll show you exactly who the pet is,” Christian warned. “Seriously though, I skipped class for this? You guys are boring. Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  Trent was fixing Kaleb with a deadly glare, ignoring Christian completely. “Why don’t you go back to where you belong? Before I rip your fangs out of your skull,” he breathed.

  Kaleb’s lips twitched up into a smile. “Please, go on,” he said. “Give me a reason. Not that I need an excuse to tear into you. The satisfaction of hearing you scream would make it more than worth tasting your vile blood.”

  “My vile blood?” Trent scoffed. “Is this guy for real?”

  Logan shrugged, watching the exchange wordlessly.

  “If you think I’m afraid of some disgusting half-blooded vampire who was probably conceived in the backwoods of Lumara, then you’ve got another thing coming. How did you even get here, huh? Can’t you tell you’re not welcome?” Trent pushed away from the beam he’d been leaning against, stepping over a broken beer bottle in the grass. “Well, now I’m curious. Did your father rape your mother, or did she just suck the semen right out of him like a good whore? Who was the monster, and who was the meal?”

  “Back off!” Christian said, trying to step between them. “I don’t really like you, and saving your life isn’t high on my list of priorities.”

  “Someone should have suffocated you as an infant,” Trent said. Flames burst to life at Kaleb’s feet, and he stumbled back in surprise.

  Kaleb advanced on him quickly as he retreated, fire licking over his knuckles and spreading across his fingers as he reached for him. The flames extinguished with a sizzle as his hand curled almost gently around Trent’s throat. They were backed against the bleachers now, black eyes meeting tundra blue. He leaned in, feeling Trent’s heartbeat against his palm as he stopped just inches from his face. “You should learn to control that tongue, before someone rips it out,” he whispered. Fire danced languidly at their heels, the soft sound of the flames filling the silence of the group. “Since you’re so curious,” he continued, “I was not born in the backwoods of Lumara. I was born in the Capitol, the very hub of civilization. My father, the man you were just spouting filth about? He’s King; the oldest, and first, of all vampires. And he’s hung people up on racks and had them flayed for less than the careless comments that just slipped out of your ugly mouth.”

  Kal
eb exhaled, and the flames surrounding them melted back into the ground. “You don’t think I know where I’m not wanted?” he said, smiling slowly. “Don’t worry; people have been kind enough to remind me throughout life. I don’t belong here, and I don’t belong there with my people. I just don’t belong. But when there’s no place for you, no one to accept you, you make a place. You surrender the need for acceptance. I don’t need you to validate my existence or tell me that it’s okay for me to be alive. No has that right.” He leaned back, eyes slipping down to Trent’s quivering chin. “Maybe if you weren’t trying so hard to find your own acceptance, you wouldn’t need to make others feel like they needed your approval. Oh, and if you say another word about my family or my heritage, I will personally drag you to the farthest, nastiest corner of Lumara and leave you for the starving world to find. If you think high school is hard, try running for your life from creatures that could crush you with a finger or turn you to stone with a mere touch. Slavery is one of the most profitable trades in Lumara, and I know so many vile, heartless animals that would love to watch that light go out in your eyes. Remember that the next time you think you have something you want to say.”

  Brooke elbowed Christian, whispering, “What does flayed mean?”

  A startled, singular laugh pushed out of his throat, expelling all the air from his lungs in one go. “Seriously? After all of that, that’s what you’re hung up on?” She blinked back at him. “…It means to strip someone’s skin off.”

  “Eww,” she said, making a face. “That’s gross.”

  Christian took a breath, resisting the urge to slap a palm over his forehead. With all the ruckus, he’d almost forgotten why he’d gone down here in the first place – Aria’s letter. It was lucky that he’d overheard them reading it. His eyes flicked over to the paper in Logan’s hand, racking his brain on how to get it from him. Short of snatching it and running he was out of ideas. Trent and Kaleb were still staring each other down, and he knew if he didn’t think of something, if he didn’t get them out of here soon, things were going to take a turn for the worst.