I shuffle back a little, so annoyed by this sign of fear that my mouth tries to make up for it, settling on belligerent. “Don’t know what?”
Elaxi laces her fingers together and rests her chin on her knuckles. “You’re one of the lost ones. Full of magic but no knowledge. How long have you noticed the effects but had no answers?”
Tears burn my eyes without permission, stinging my nose. Finally, I can’t hold the truth back anymore, and it spews out into the open. “As long as I can remember.” A sob builds in my throat followed by faint tremors along my bones. “I shook our apartment so bad so often our landlord eventually kicked my mom and me out.”
Elaxi nods once.
“So you know...” I glance at Ash, then back to her. “You know what I am? I’m not cursed?”
“Come inside. We can speak more privately there.” Elaxi reaches out and takes my hand, gently pulling me toward the front door.
I slip into a kind of strange fugue state. All the details come through, but don’t connect to my body in any solid way. Elaxi leads me past two gorgeous wood rocking chairs, through the blue framed sliding door, and across the threshold. Though narrow, the large front window creates the illusion of space. Coffee still steams from a French Press on the black countertop in the kitchen, catching sunlight streaming in from under a ruffled curtain over the sink.
Tiny or not, this house definitely doesn’t feel lacking.
Elaxi and I step around a red painted coffee table to sit on the couch while Ash leans against the wall across from us. Incense snakes up from a black and red ceramic bowl on a side table. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath of it, willing my never-ending internal shaking to stop.
When I let it out again, I squint at Elaxi and Ash, attempting not to pout. “Okay paranormal peeps, what do you know about me that I don’t?”
“I can’t tell you definitely without reading your vibrations a little more closely, love,” Elaxi says. “But a quick question first. Was there another reason you came, Ash?”
Ash meets my eyes, kneading his brows together. “Yes. The shields around The Mercury Room need beefing up. We were attacked by an Ozark Howler last night.”
A shiver runs through me and the ground shakes faintly.
Elaxi’s hazel gaze drifts to me. “Were you there?”
“I was.”
“Did your magic react?”
Swallowing, I twist a curl around my pointer finger. “I shook the floor to throw it off balance. Then I...directed the tremors into its bones?”
The lame statement comes out like a question. Because I don’t have the words for any of this. Elaxi designating it as my magic is comforting. This could mean I’m not, in fact, cursed. Then again, her phrase from earlier — “lost one” — definitely worries me.
“Impressive,” Elaxi says with a smile. “I assume you’ve never met anyone else like you?”
“Not as far as I know. Until I started working at The Mercury Room, I thought I was the only freak whose emotions literally shook the earth’s foundations.” I attempt a grin. It’s a little stiff, but passable.
Ash runs a hand over his face, then around the back of his neck. “That had to be terrifying.”
My initial frustration with him calms a little. “It was. Maybe not quite as intense as what you went through, but still scary. And lonely.”
“I can imagine it has been incredibly unpleasant and confusing,” Elaxi says. “But if you’ll let me, I might be able to provide at least some answers.”
She extends a hand. For a moment I just stare at it. This is the first step. One I can’t come back from. Admitting to Ash that I have strange powers is one thing. Having their origins confirmed is another brand of wacky entirely. But ignoring it won’t do me any good. It might even make things worse.
Flicking my curl over a shoulder, and resisting the nervous habit of touching my scar, I reach out shakily. Pain lances down my shoulder, but I resist a wince. Elaxi cups my knuckles. Her skin is soft, silky, and as she traces the lines on my palm, my anxiety calms. The air around her moving finger ripples. It pulses up my arm in a warm wave and Elaxi hums.
I wince. “That’s a good reaction.”
A smile spreads across Elaxi’s face, but it’s the kind Ms. Jan used to give me when she came to break the news that I’d be headed to a new foster home. Unconvincing. Sad. “I’m detecting non-native magic,” she says. “It feels as if this has been with you for the majority of your life. If I had to put a date on it, whoever placed it on you did so when you were very young...possibly before you were born.”
“Placed...” I clear my throat, but it stays nice and tight. “So it is a curse?”
Elaxi’s brow wrinkles. “Or a charm. But that’s not something I can tell without a little more research. Which I can start as soon as I reinforce the shields on The Mercury Room. Is that alright?”
I nod, dizzy with information and questions and unquantifiable emotions. “Sure. Yeah. We definitely need to take care of the restaurant. Don’t want any repeats of the last few nights, right?”
BACK IN THE PURPLE monstrosity, with Elaxi following behind on a bright pink moped, Ash asks, “You okay?”
I shake my head. Not as a no, but in an attempt to force my brain to work. “Still absorbing. It’s a lot.”
“I know something about that.” Ash sighs. “If it helps, I really didn’t take you to Elaxi so she could confront you. Kia and I did notice the earthquakes and hoped you’d tell us the truth eventually, but I wasn’t trying to force it.”
“And you didn’t kind of half hope a witch would pick up on my weird vibrations?” A little smile betrays me, sabotaging my very serious expression.
That adorable sheepish look crosses Ash’s face, and he lifts his shoulders. “Maybe I was hoping Elaxi would give you a little nudge.”
I swat him with the back of my hand, wincing immediately as pain lances down my fingers to my knuckles. “Officially, I’m mad. Unofficially, I probably would’ve done the same, exact thing.”
At least I still have a few secrets under my hood.
Ash runs a palm over his jaw. “Have your parents ever said anything?”
A choking sort of laugh bursts from my mouth. “You mean something like ‘Hey, Casey, before you were born we stole a witch’s cabbage and, rather than lock you in a tower and make you grow your hair super long, she simplified things and just cursed you?’ Nope. Can’t say that they ever have.”
Ash snorts. “Dumb question?”
“No, not really.” I go to punch him playfully, then think better of it, preferring not to break my hand. “It would probably be good to think back, though. She—they, could’ve said something I missed. Give me a sec.”
Massaging my temples, I brace myself for the emotional fallout of mentally revisiting the first seven years of my life. My sluggish thoughts move at a crawl. They land first on my earliest memory of unexpected tremors. Nervous about going to preschool, I shook the floor of our house.
Mom wasn’t such a mess then. Her blond waves still shone, her immaculate makeup job covered her allergy-related dark circles, and her business suit buttoned her up to perfection. Horror broke past all of this as she looked down at me where I sat on the carpet clinging to my blanket.
She said something then, but the years blur her words so they’re unintelligible.
I think a little further ahead to the next big incident. George Bush Park when I was five. Mom still wears makeup, but it’s cracked, smudged, and the ends of her hair are frayed, her lips chapped. Her smile as we ride together down the bike trail fades when a Dalmatian on the path ahead breaks from its leash and streaks toward us. Fear hits me when it jumps and the ground shakes.
This time, her words solidify in my head, a statement I didn’t remember until now.
“Once my mom said I must be cursed,” I finally say, running the tip of my thumb along the scar at the corner of my mouth. “But what parent wouldn’t say that if their kid kept making the ground shake?”
&n
bsp; Ash pulls into the parking lot of The Mercury Room. “I mean, that would be stressful, but also kind of harsh? That had to be traumatizing.”
I bounce my shoulders and force on a grin. “Oh it’s fine. Everybody’s got childhood wounds. No way ignoring them will have long-term negative implications.”
Frowning, Ash parks in the back lot, remaining silent as we join Elaxi and head inside the restaurant. A few other staff members sit around a table in the far corner rolling silverware, the waiter’s morning ritual. The smell of burgers already floats through the restaurant. My mouth waters.
Dread coils in my stomach and snakes into my chest. Usually, people only feel like they’re being watched at night. It’s late, so dark you can almost feel the lack of light, and you swear that if you were to turn fast enough you’d catch sight of someone following you. But I feel this as we walk toward the breakroom, hair standing up on my arms.
I look over one shoulder, then the other. Nothing. At least nothing unusual. Just the cooks bustling to prepare food for the day.
In the breakroom, we find Kia, Max, and Jeremy chomping chips and guzzling soft drinks. Various HR notices pinned to the bulletin board behind them crinkle as the air conditioner kicks on, some lifting slightly. Marker smears the whiteboard, blurring across the schedule. Probably the result of Kia attempting to please each and every staff member. No idea how she succeeds every week. If I had to do that, my brain would leak out my ears in gory chunks.
Everyone semi-salutes us with their various and sundry snacks when we open the door.
Kia stands, reaching out to Elaxi. “It’s so good to see you,” she says as they kiss each other's cheeks. “Thank you for coming.”
As the two women speak about what needs to be done, I take a step toward the table to sit, hesitate, then lean against the wall. A fresh batch of goosebumps crop up on the back of my neck. I rub at it with the tips of my fingers.
It’s paranoia, that’s all. Paranoia after a wild few days. You’re not being watched. There is absolutely no possible way another attack could happen this soon after the last. That would be absurd. Right?
I can’t get my thoughts to flow right. They kept shifting backward, coming up with images of fanged creatures, and hooked claws. Even with my spine pressed into the cinder block wall, that odd presence hovers behind me. Every time I blink I expect to open my eyes to see a fresh horror. Crowded. Something crowds the room and I can’t breath.
When Kia and Elaxi step out into the kitchen, Ash bends toward me, arms crossed. “Everything okay?”
Twisting a curl around a pointer and middle finger, I shake my head and keep my voice low. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I just...no, nothing. It’s dumb.”
Ash taps his fingers on an elbow. “Are you—”
An eardrum busting crash shatters the quiet. As steam fills the room, half the wall collapses between me and Ash. We both jump in opposite directions to avoid getting crushed. Water soaks my hair and clothes. Heat sears my skin. Through stinging eyes, I squint toward the sound of a garbled scream.
Jeremy crouches under the table, face taut with terror, but Max hangs from the wall. A woman pins him against it, gripping him by the throat. Her long hair floats around her shoulders like gray-white smoke. She wears battered jeans and a black leather jacket. Like a complete and total lunatic.
This is the first, ridiculous thought that barrels through my brain. Because holy crap, that get up is insane in this Houston heat. The second thought follows a more appropriate line of logic. Based on the hovering locks and broken water pipe above her head, could she be another water spirit?
“What a treat,” the woman says. “I came here for the pureblood and I find another one of my bounties as well. My lucky day.”
Max’s eyes bug slightly from his obstructed airway, but somehow, inexplicably, he manages to give her that typical smirk. “Yaritza,” he says in a croak of a voice. “It’s been a while. How’s bounty hunting treating—”
Yaritza’s fingers tighten, cutting him off completely with a choking sound. She tilts her head, slowly, smooth as steam twisting up from a lake midmorning. “Always so good with words. They won’t help you now.” Too quick for me to piece apart, she twists and spins, ending with Max in a headlock, one arm wrenched behind him, a thin blade to his throat. She presses it into his skin, drawing a drop of gray-colored blood. Max lets out a guttural gasp and his legs buckle. Yaritza’s silver-blue eyes, shaped like crescents and sharpened with thick, gold liner, zero in on Jeremy. “Now for you. Come quietly and your friend won’t suffer too much.”
9.
THE SECOND JEREMY FLINCHES like he’s about to comply, I press my palm into the tile. Rumbles rock the floor. Taken off guard, Yaritza stumbles slightly. Her grip around Max’s neck loosens and, as if reading my mind, Jeremy reacts, darting toward their legs. Yaritza steps out of the way. As Jeremy goes sprawling and sliding toward the wall, she levels a kick to his ribs.
A loud crack echoes through the room and my rational brain stops functioning. I lunge forward, driving my fist toward Yaritza’s face and plucking at the arm around Max’s neck. Scrambling to his feet, Jeremy catches the water spirit and drags him out of the way as I throw a second punch.
My knuckles make contact again. Tremors pulse from my body, adding an extreme amount of power to my punch and Yaritza shoots backward, slamming into the wall. The cinder block cracks around her. For a few crumbles and creaks, I can do nothing other than stare in shock.
Dark brows low over her eyes, Yaritza sneers and straightens. Before she can recover, Ash blurs past me, one hand closing around her throat and pinning her to the wall.
Blinking more slowly than before, Yaritza winces, then glares at me. “Smart and armed with magic.” Her words slur. Apparently even water spirits can sustain concussions. Who woulda thunk? “Looks like I owe you all a rematch when I’m better prepared.”
With those words, she dissolves right out of Ash’s fingers, melting into the steam already filling the room.
I stare at my knuckles a moment. That was definitely new. Sending the tremors through that howler’s body was one thing. But this? Guess I shouldn’t question something that helped me save Max.
Max.
Instant worry shatters shock. Whipping around, I find Jeremy holding a corner of his plaid shirt against Max’s neck. Gray blood soaks the red and black material and the color seeps slowly from the water spirits’s face. Ash and I move at the same time, sinking down next to him.
“She barely cut him...” I stammer the words, all the tension I’ve held at bay before now shaking my voice.
“She used an iron blade,” Ash says. “It’s like poison to spirits. Even a small knick can cause significant damage. Kia should be able to help, but...”
A set of heavy footsteps pound behind us. Kia and Elaxi skid to a stop in the doorway. “What happened?” The mermaid asks.
“Bounty hunter,” Ash says. “Yaritza. She came for Jeremy, then—”
“She saw Max,” Kia finishes for him, running forward. Crouching next to Max’s side, she gently pulls Jeremy’s hand away, and rests her palm on his neck. “What made her leave?”
“Case hit her...”
I look at Ash. His Adam's apple bobs but he never takes his eyes off Max and Kia. Tension tightens the air around him, coiling through the muscles in his neck and jaw, winding along his arms so every vein stands out beneath the skin. He sits startlingly still.
Tongue trapped between my teeth, I rest a hand on his shoulder.
Ash’s eyes shift to meet mine. “Case-”
A gasp cuts him off. We both look at Max. He thrashes, wide-eyed, grasping for something, anything to hold onto.
Jeremy’s arm shoots out and Max grips it. “It’s okay, man,” the kids says. “She’s gone. You’re okay.”
Max’s ragged breathing slowly calms and he blinks. His eyes sweep the small circle we’ve formed around him. When they land on me, he offers a weak grin, and says in a raspy voice, �
�That was badass, Case.”
“I have to agree,” Elaxi says from the doorway. “Most impressive. We’ll have to speak about this later, after I add this bounty hunter’s vibrations to the shield. Bar her from entering without permission as well.”
She steps into the breakroom, tracing the walls with the tips of her fingers, and murmuring quietly to herself.
“Let’s get you upstairs, Max,” Ash says in a monotone, the words pinched by the tension evident in his jaw. “I can cover your shift.”
With Jeremy’s help, he guides the injured water spirit out of the breakroom and presumably toward the stairs to the second level. Chest tight, head pounding with worry, I straighten alongside Kia.
The mermaid touches my arm gently. “You never cease to amaze me with your bravery.”
“Or stupidity.” I press the heels of my palms to my head. It’s way too full of information. Any second now it’s going to explode, sending bits of brain matter all over the walls. “Ash seems pretty freaked.”
Great observation there, Case. A sadistic bounty hunter who goes after her own kind nearly kidnaps one of his fellow co-workers and your most profound assessment of the situation is that he’s “freaked out.” Not to mention the fact that his other co-worker is probably a cursed child.
Kia sighs and guides me into her office, nudging me gently into a suede armchair. A trio of teal candles sits in the corner of the carved desk, their flames warming the room with a cozy glow and casting flickering shadows across the paintings on the walls. I study the pictures, both a very different representation of the sea.
One is white-tipped and raging, but calm below, while the other is smooth as glass on the surface, with an epic sea-creature battle amidst bright pink coral along the ocean floor. As I stare, I can almost see the waves moving, feel the wind on my skin, smell the brackish water.
Kia sinks into her own chair, a soft gray papasan. “We’ve dealt with Yaritza before, right after we first met Max. She took him on his way to The Mercury Room and in our rescue attempt we barely escaped with our lives.” She runs the tip of her finger along her lower lip. “Case, what you did-”
Cursed: The Girl Who Shook the Earth Page 7