“He’s scared.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m scared,” he says, his voice simmering.
“It’s going to be okay.”
With a shake of his head, he lets go of my shirt and turns away.
Tentatively, I touch his shoulder.
He turns so fast I startle. “Explain it to me, then.”
“E-explain what?”
“How is it going to be okay?”
“My mom didn’t die.”
A bitter laugh breaks from his throat.
“No, listen,” I say. “She had this same mark. But she kept living.” I step closer, needing him to believe me. Needing to believe myself. “The curse didn’t kill her.”
Sure, Simon and his family got sucked through the rift. But no need to call that out. At least, not at this very moment.
He shakes his head again, like I’m talking nonsense. Like I don’t understand. “She was put into a psych ward. She turned into an addict. A mother who walked out on her daughter.”
The truth cuts.
“Maybe she’s alive out there somewhere, but that doesn’t make her any less tragic. All because Simon dared to love her.” His voice is bitter,cracked through with pain. “I don’t accept that fate for you.”
“It’s a tricky thing to avoid, though, isn’t it?”
We both turn.
Rafe steps into the room with a shiny red apple. “I heard the two of you arguing. Thought I’d pay a little visit. Remind you of the deadline. Only to discover this fun little turn of events.” He twiddles his fingers in my direction. “You can’t fight fate, Jude. Unless, of course …”
He lets the words dangle as he polishes the apple on his suit coat.
I glare, my blood boiling.
Ezra should have let him die.
Let him rot in the grave where he belongs.
“The only one who can undo the curse is the one who cast it, and Seraphina’s still trapped in a tomb.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing one ankle over the other.
“Help me free her and your sweet Selah won’t have to—” He drags a finger across his neck with the sharp click of his tongue. Then, with a taunting lift of his brow, he casts a glance at the rift and tosses Jude the apple. “Looks like we’re on the same team now,Cousin.”
49
A SEMI PLAN
It started with the portrait.
That’s what brought us together. Jude and I were looking for answers because it was an irresistible mystery. But Jude isn’t just curious anymore. He’s compelled. Possessed. Unable to sleep. Scrambling for answers in a desperate race against time.
On Sunday, he studies blueprints for secret rooms and takes apart desks in search of hidden compartments like the curse’s antidote might be hidden somewhere in the manor. He returns to the crypt and scours every inch of it, examining the walls, the floors, even pulling up loose stones.
