Cursed

by Jamie Leigh Hansen

  Adad might be beyond her at the moment, and was surely too powerful to confront just yet. But Silas and whoever lay beneath the cloak were going to pay for all they’d stolen from her, just as the scribe had paid for his trap. No one would violate her and escape her vengeance.

  Snarling, Maeve struck at the headless body before her, her nails becoming claws as she ripped into him like a lioness on the hunt, rending and tearing, breaking and shredding. The scent of blood and raw meat filled her lungs and added to her fury.

  When there was nothing left of the scribe but a head, Maeve turned her ferocity onto the lovers, shredding them all until the chamber dripped blood like wine. Then there was nothing left but Dugan.

  Swiftly, he wrestled her to the sharp, rocky ground, barely able to hold her long enough to alter her passion from violence to sex.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sweet and creamy, each sip was worthy of closed eyes and a moment of reverent silence. After living alone for twelve years, Elizabeth had all the experience she needed to make the perfect cup of coffee. Yet, Alex did it better.

  Within just a few days, he knew her likes and dislikes almost as well as she did. It seemed he’d studied her as hard as she’d focused on her program codes. He made her coffee and late-night snacks, and kept all the materials she needed organized and at her fingertips.

  From dinner on, she worked. She could accomplish a good five or six hours before her body demanded sleep. During that time, Alex readied the kids for bed, sent them to her for hugs and kisses, then tucked them in with stories.

  He was the perfect secretary, the best of babysitters. If only he didn’t want more than that from her. If only she was free to give more.

  Elizabeth glanced to her right, where Alex worked on his own laptop, gathering images of stained-glass, sculptures, and paintings for the library design. Once they were chosen, she could incorporate them into the alcoves marking the different sections of the library.

  Alex glanced up at her.

  Elizabeth looked back to her screen, but could tell he was grinning. Without thinking, she blurted, “I’m surprised we work so well together.”

  “Why is that?”

  She couldn’t resist a smile. “I figured you’d be a distraction.”

  She peeked at his reaction in time to see his silent chuckle. The dining room felt like the only space that existed in the world, and it grew smaller with each word spoken between the two of them.

  “I can keep my hormones in check when necessary,” he said in a dry tone.

  Elizabeth’s face heated and she turned her wide-eyed gaze on him. “I didn’t mean … Of course you can control yourself.”

  Alex leaned back in his chair and faced her. “I’ve been honest about what I want from you. Pushing you every time we’re alone together would be counterproductive to achieving that goal.”

  Elizabeth looked away. After seeing how seamlessly Alex fit into their lives, her reluctance probably made no sense to him.

  “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad, Elizabeth. But you’ve rejected me twice. I’m not in a rush to reach strike three.”

  “I have solid reasons for not getting involved, Alex.” Could that sound any lamer?

  “Solid fears, maybe.”

  Elizabeth stiffened in her chair, her brows lowering.

  “A good reason would be if you objected to something about me, but you don’t. Do you?”

  She shook her head.

  “There’s no one else, is there?”

  Again, she shook her head. But she also bit her lip and focused on the screen in front of her. If he took that as interest in someone else, maybe that would be a good thing.

  At this point, she only had to tell him about dreamweaving. That’s all Geoffrey had seen. She wasn’t obligated to mention her father or his visions. Though Daddy had said he’d already shown one to Alex. Did Alex know what he’d seen? Or did he just think he’d had a weird night of strange dreams?

  “Why are you and Geoffrey studying angels and demons, Alex?”

  Alex froze. “Does it bother you?”

  She looked him in the eye. “Not really. I’m just curious.”

  For once, he was the one at a loss for words and she found that infinitely interesting. He seemed to be searching for what to say. Elizabeth waited, breath held. She would be as open with him as he was with her. So the question was: how much did Alex trust her?

  “I believe in angels, Elizabeth.”

  She raised her brows again. “Many people do, Alex.”

  He shook his head. “No, I mean ‘angels walking among us’. Interventions, messages, and supernatural gifts.”

  Elizabeth sat back in her chair. He was serious. She kept her tone calm—cautious, controlled—and hinting at a subtext she couldn’t explain just yet. “So do I. The Bible, the Koran, the Torah, they all mention angels and their work in the world. What I wonder is, what about it particularly interests you?”

  Alex nodded at the discs, sketches of the program design, and hard drives Geoffrey had brought for her to draw images from. “As you can tell, Geoffrey’s been working at this for a very long time.”

  “So he sparked your interest?”

  Alex looked away for a moment. “More like, meeting him sparked a need for answers to questions I’d tried to forget.”

  “Like a crisis of faith?”

  “I needed to know more about what I believed.”

  “You’ve found that in the study of angels?”

  “I may never have all the answers, but I have more than I would if I did nothing.”

  Perhaps there was a game being played, with neither offering full disclosure, but then maybe it really was that simple for him.

  Alex cocked his head and looked at her quizzically, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

  “This is the side of you people rarely see. The one that competed with me for the highest grades. The one that opened a successful business. Serious Alex.” She shook her head. “Who knew?”

  He chuckled briefly, then sobered and sat forward, leaning toward her. “Seriously, does the subject bother you?”

  “No. Why would it?”

  “Some people don’t like delving into religion like this.”

  “That isn’t logical.”

  “Does everything have to be logical?”

  “It is easier to think things through if you have the facts before you form an opinion. It’s irresponsible to ignore the research.”

  “Do you believe faith is an opinion?”

  “Faith is one of the few feelings I think I can trust.” Elizabeth sighed.

  “What about love?”

  “I’ve never trusted love.”

  Her statement clicked home the last puzzle piece in his mind. A satisfied smile crossed Alex’s face. “That’s the real reason you refuse to have a relationship with me”

  Elizabeth looked away.

  “You don’t trust me with your heart,” he said.

  “I don’t distrust you. There’s no reason to.”

  “Yet.” He voiced the word dangling silently at the end of her statement. “Is it men in general then?”

  Elizabeth shook her head, fighting the temptation to squirm. “No. Not really.”

  “Then, what? Who?”

  Elizabeth took a deep breath that was shakier than she’d intended. “Me.”

  Alex collapsed back in his chair, appearing thoroughly confused. “Why?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. The answer should be obvious. “Alex, look around you.”

  He frowned. “I told you. This is just a situation, not a statement about your entire future.”

  “I don’t mean that.” Elizabeth waved his words away. “But consider the situation. Ten children. No responsible parents. Alex, there hasn’t been a single healthy relationship in my family since my grandparents were alive.”

  “And you think that’s your fault?”

  “No. But it is the fault of my family.�
� When he frowned his confusion, she leaned forward to impress him with her seriousness. “Specifically the women. My father may have left, but most women eventually get over that. My mom never did. My sisters never did.”

  “But you have?”

  Elizabeth paused. She had to tread carefully. “You could say he never really left me. I don’t mourn him as much as the effect losing him has had on my family. And that effect has scarred me.”

  Alex scooted his chair closer to her, and leaned forward. Taking her hand in his, he met her eyes.

  “Let’s talk about that.”

  She looked at him skeptically. “Since when do guys want to talk?”

  He smiled slightly and shrugged. “With the proper motivation, any guy will talk.”

  “And yours is?”

  “You.” His tone was flat, but he said so much with one word. Nothing had changed for him. She looked away and tried to stand, but his hands tightened on hers, keeping her in place. “Talk.”

  Looking down, Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed. Alex leaned forward, his forehead against hers, and the band around her chest loosened. That connection made talking to him a little easier.

  “What if …” She fell silent and had to take another deep breath. Alex held quiet and waited. “What if it’s never enough?”

  “It?”

  “Love.” The only way to get through it was to rush the words out, so she inhaled and rushed. “What if you love me; you stay with me; I love you back; we build a life together; but I’m still always scared? Scared you’ll leave; you’ll lose interest; you’ll meet someone else, someone better?”

  He shook his head, but she covered his mouth before he could speak. Looking into his eyes, Elizabeth said, “Exactly. You would assure me. You would battle all my insecurities, all my jealousies. You would be steadfast. Until the day came when you grew tired of proving yourself. Sick of trying to fill this bottomless pit with all your love, knowing it will never be enough.”

  His hand cupped her cheek as he vowed, “My love will be enough.”

  Oh, how she wanted to believe him. She wanted to have faith, take that leap. The effort to stand tough nearly brought her to tears. “What if …”

  He shook his head. “No more what ifs.”

  She brushed her fingers over his soft lips, tempted to kiss him again. “What if you left me—

  He growled and the sound vibrated from her fingertips, up her arm, and down to the tips of her breasts. She shivered.

  “What if you left me—but I didn’t let you go?”

  “Sounds good to me.” Alex smiled.

  Her lips quirked before she could pull them straight. “Right now it does, but what if you wanted to leave and I didn’t let you?”

  “Do you mean some kind of Fatal Attraction thing?” He raised an amused brow.

  Elizabeth did not smile. “Yeah, sorta.”

  “But no rabbits?”

  “No rabbits.”

  “Well, then.” Alex brushed hair from her eyes, stared straight into them—and kissed her. There was nothing tentative, nothing gentle, and he didn’t need to coax.

  Elizabeth threw her arms around his shoulders and straddled Alex, squeezing her thighs around his waist, locking her ankles behind the chair. Warm hands slid up the back of her shirt, teasing the cool skin of her lower back. Elizabeth moaned and Alex thrust his tongue deep, tasting it.

  His hands slid down to her thighs, and he rubbed against the denim. A frustrated groan erupted from deep in his chest and he pulled away long enough to say, “What happened to the good ol’ days when women wore skirts?”

  “Self-preservation,” she gasped. Elizabeth arched her back and pushed against him.

  One hand curved over her ass, pressing them closer, while his other hand slid under her shirt to cup one breast.

  Elizabeth buried both hands in his thick hair and began to rock against him, hard and steady. Her toes curled inside her shoes. Her thighs bunched, tight as bricks. To her shock, she heard herself gasp and moan, high-pitched and needy.

  Instead of muting her, Alex moved down her throat, licking and sucking and nipping at the skin of her neck. Apparently the fact that she sounded like a porn star didn’t bother him a bit. If anything, when he thrust up, the ridge of his cock was harder than before.

  Breath stuttered out of her and she moaned again, soft and guaranteed to rev his engine even more. “Alex?”

  “No,” he growled in a low voice against her throat. “We can’t just be friends.”

  She laughed and pushed against his chest. “Neither are we christening the table my grandfather built.”

  “Oh, come on.” He smiled up at her. “Every ’ship needs a proper inauguration before its maiden voyage.”

  “Ugh.” She laughed and slapped his arm at his relationship analogy. “As long as the, ’ship doesn’t go back to the boat yard, I’m happy.”

  He sounded happy. And she felt happy. But losing him would hurt worse later. Elizabeth’s smile died and she buried her nose against his neck, inhaling his scent for a lifetime of memories. “It’s time for you to leave, Alex. Go home, go to bed, and get some sleep.”

  “I like holding you in real life much more than in my dreams.”

  “Yeah.” She stared at the wall behind him. “This is better.”

  He sighed. “But dreams are all I have for tonight, huh? At least I’ll see you in them.”

  “Yes. You will see me.” She sounded almost sad as she said it. Elizabeth pulled back and kissed him gently. “Sweet dreams.”

  He arched a brow. “With you in them, they’d have to be.”

  Her smile wobbled. “Unfortunately, Alex, that’s not always a guarantee.”

  Elizabeth shut the steel door and looked around the empty stone cavern. It wasn’t always so bare. It actually housed some of her most powerful memories, but tonight she needed to make everything as easy on Alex as possible and that meant waiting until he was in the room before pressing play.

  He wouldn’t understand at first. There was no way to explain it in words, it had to be shown. Alex would think he was dreaming, then something would click and he would know. How long it took for that to happen, she had no clue.

  There were three steel doors in this cavern. The one she’d entered through, the one connected to the next memory she would show him, and one smaller door she prayed he’d never notice. The third door rested in a small, curved alcove. The steel was old, scratched, and worn.

  He may hate her after tonight, but then, that could be a good thing. She couldn’t seem to make the break by herself. If he hated her, maybe it would be easier. Just what did she wish for? To end it or to begin it? Her heart and mind had battled over that question for years.

  She summoned Alex and he appeared, standing in the center of the empty room and glancing around. “Where are we?”

  Elizabeth held out her hands to indicate the room around them. “The boatyard.”

  “Damn it, Elizabeth.” He scowled and stalked toward her. “When will we get past this?”

  “Tonight,” she said definitively.

  He stopped and studied her expression.

  “We’re about to test how seaworthy our ’ship really is.” Elizabeth bit her lip.

  Alex tilted his head, noting her apprehension. “And how do you propose we do that?”

  “It’s time to spill secrets.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. “My secrets, specifically.”

  He raised a brow. “Then mine next?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You’ve lived in Spokane all your life. You aren’t married, or otherwise attached. Your parents are traveling the United States, one carving wood and one selling it online. You have one best friend and have been by her side forever, come what may. You are the most honorable, normal man I can imagine. I think we’ll survive any secrets you have.”

  He looked away, shaking his head. “One can only hope.”

  It was Elizabeth’s turn to l
ook away. No one thought their life was boringly normal. Every story was unique, in and of itself. It was part of the beauty of life—when it wasn’t potentially devastating like Elizabeth’s.

  “I’ll start at the beginning. That’s really the best place.”

  Alex joined her and they watched as rock disappeared and became old walls lined with lockers and occasional doors. Straight ahead, a high school-aged Beth Ann struggled to arrange her books in her locker before everything fell out.

  “I remember your rejection for prom, Elizabeth. There’s nothing secret here.” Alex sighed.

  “Just watch, Alex. You might see something you don’t expect.”

  From their left, eighteen-year-old Alex appeared. Tall, dark haired, and wearing a black leather jacket, with gold, black, and orange LC letters and patches for basketball and track, he was the guy every girl wanted.

  “Not every girl,” Alex grumbled.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Just keep watching.”

  High school Alex walked up behind Beth Ann, who was studiously pretending she hadn’t seen him. They were friends in class, but contact between them always tied her stomach in knots. The day had been hard enough, listening as other girls talked about their dates and their dresses and their appointments with the hairdresser. It was only a dance. Why did they have to act like it was the most important thing ever? Graduation was important. This was just a party.

  Or so she’d worked all day to convince herself. She didn’t have a date. She didn’t have a dress. But none of it would matter because soon she would be gone and the entire prom would be a distant memory.

  “Beth Ann?”

  She froze a moment, then shut her locker door and lifted her backpack over one shoulder. “Hi, Alex.”

  He grinned that lopsided grin that always made her melt inside.

  “It does?”

  “Shut up, Alex. This is the closest thing to a date we’ve ever had.”

  “Then I should at least get to hold your hand.”