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Tears flood my eyes. Or at least it seems like tears should be forming. But strangely, my eyes remain dry, a calmness pouring over my body.
“Now relax,” he whispers. “I’m going to feed you, let you rest, and then tomorrow you’ll start your training.”
“Training for what?” I can barely pay attention as I turn my face in toward his neck.
Feed…
Take…
Feed…
Take…
“To learn how to control your powers and turn your curse into something good.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “That is, if you want to. You could always just join me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you always have a choice.”
“Between what?”
“Being good and being bad. Personally, I like bad.”
I want to ask him if he’s so bad then why is he here at a superhero facility, helping me. But all questions and thoughts leave my mind as he moves his head in front of mine and seals our lips. The instant our mouths connect, a desire rips through me and possesses every inch of my body.
I slip my tongue in his mouth and begin to kiss him. Or more like devour him. He kisses me back, pulling me closer until finally he grabs me by the legs and scoops me up in his arms. I hitch my legs around his waist and hold onto him while kissing him with everything I have in me. But it’s not just kissing. It’s connecting something. Settling the darkness stirring inside me. Giving in to a desire that’s been burning inside me for longer than I realized. The hunger begins to fade as new feelings consume me. Potent feelings that make me want to do awful things. Awful, wonderful, amazingly disturbing things.
Take souls.
Steal them.
Drink them.
Unsure what to do, I latch onto him tighter and kiss him fiercely. I haven’t kissed many guys, but he seems to enjoy what I’m doing, letting out a groan as he backs us up somewhere.
I want to ask him where we’re going, but that would require breaking the kiss and there’s no way in hell I’m about to do that. So, I keep kissing him, letting him carry me toward the bed. I expect him to lay us down, but instead he pulls back.
I whimper in protest. Actually freaking whimper.
He chuckles, his eyes darkening to a smoky black. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to do that again soon.”
Nodding, I lean in to kiss him. But a heaviness overcomes my body, and I slump forward.
“I feel so tired…” I whisper as haziness fills my mind.
“That’s perfectly normal for your first time drinking souls,” he says, carefully setting me down on the bed.
“Drinking souls…” I murmur, knowing I should feel alarmed, but instead I feel so tired.
“Go to sleep,” he says in a soft, but demanding tone. “You’ve got a long, hard day ahead of you tomorrow. That is, if you choose to be part of the program.” He pulls the blanket over me and kisses my cheek. “Personally, I hope you don’t.”
I want to ask him why he doesn’t seem to like the program, yet is obviously helping the people in charge. I want to ask him more about the program. I want to ask him so much, but all I end up whispering is, “Do you know who cursed me to begin with?”
He answers so quietly, I barely hear him. But the two words he utters bring me more pain than I’ve ever felt.
“Your parents.”
I want to scream at him that he’s wrong, that my parents would never do this to me. That maybe he did this to me. That I want to go home. Back to my friends and my perfect, fake life that I’ve never felt like I belonged in.
But sleepiness overtakes me and I surrender, wondering what tomorrow is going to bring.
Chapter 7
I dream of being beaten, of hands on my body, of pain, hurt, agony, of my soul getting ripped out, of drinking souls. I dream of my old life, of my parents, my friends. A fake life.
Everything was fake.
But that fakeness was stolen away from me, and now all I feel is pain.
Beneath the pain, though, I feel a strength. It’s terrifying how powerful it is, but at the same time, invigorating. I don’t know where it comes from. The Grim Reaper blood inside me? If Cameron was telling the truth, then yes.
Regardless, I know I could do a lot with that kind of strength. Maybe even take over the world. But I have no desire to do that. No, what I desire may be worse. But I still want it.
I want revenge on those who hurt me. And when I wake up, I’m going to do everything in my power to get it.
Chapter 8
Leader
“She’s strong,” I say to my colleague as I return to my office. I run my fingers through my white and blue hair before dropping down into a chair. “The power flowing off of her…” I shudder, not in fear but in excitement. “It’s amazing.”
He leans back in the desk. “You know, I’ve always found it creepy that you could do that—feel power in people.”
“It’s a gift and a curse.” I don’t embellish, not wanting to talk about it because it’s part of my past. And I hate thinking about my past.
“A creepy gift and curse.” He leans forward in the chair, resting his arms on his knees. “You think she’ll be ready before the portal opens?”
“With the right training, yes.”
“And who’s going to train her?”
“I’ve arranged for someone.” Again, I don’t embellish. If he knew that I’m allowing the Grim Reaper to train her, he’d flip the fuck out.
Honestly, I don’t blame him. The Grim Reaper is the sort of creature we have to worry about coming out of the portal and destroying the city. But he’s is probably the only one that can teach Remi how to harness, control, and use all of her powers. Plus, I know the Reaper from my past and I can trust him with this.
I hope.
He eyes me over with a hint of suspicion. “As long as it’s being taken care of.”
“It is,” I assure him, resting back in my chair.
“So what’s next?” he asks. “Or should I say who?”
I take a look in my folder at the next candidate’s name. “Heartley Halilton. Her curse is expected to be collected within the next three days.”
He thrums his fingers against his legs. “Do we have someone keeping an eye on her?”
“Yeah, I’ve sent out a few agents.” Not true at all. Like with Remi, I sent out the leader of the paranormal creature whose blood will be put inside her. That creature will also be her trainer.
He nods. “And what’s this one going to be?”
A smile touches my lips. “A Maddening.”
His brows dip. “A Maddening? Why haven’t I heard of that before?”
“Because they’re very rare. But very powerful.”
Intrigue flashes across his expression. “What can they do?”
“They can create madness to anyone and anything they touch.”
He looks appalled. “Good God, that sounds fucking awful.”
“It is. But you don’t need to worry. Once she’s trained, she won’t use her power on anything or anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
The horror remains in his eyes. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing. If this gets out of hand… it could be disastrous.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” I promise. “I’ve got this under control.”
I just hope I’m right. That I can keep control of my superheroes and their trainers, otherwise the world may be in even more trouble.
A Sneak Peek at Cursed 2!
Cursed 2
Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Sorensen
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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For information: jessicasorensen.com
Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs
Chapter One
I’m locked in a cage in a room hidden beneath an old Victorian house, a place I’ve called home for almost the entire eighteen years of my life. But I’m not a prisoner. I choose to stay inside the iron-bar cage, to protect the world from what I could become, at least according to my parents. And it’s something worse than death.
But despite the stories of me turning into an evil creature, I’m just a normal girl who’s been warned never to touch anyone. Because, if I do, nothing will survive. I’m a killer of everything, they say. Which is why I should be dead. If I had my choice, I would be. But after our parents passed away, I promised my older sister I’d stick around so she wouldn’t be left alone in this world.
Sometimes, though, I question my choice. Like today, which has been a maddeningly silent and lonely day.
Peering through the iron bars, I check the time on the wall and then the date on calendar. Where is my sister? She usually visits me by now.
Maybe she’s finally gotten sick of me. I wouldn’t blame her. We can’t do much except talk through the bars. No hanging out, watching movies, and painting our toenails. My sister does tell me stories of what she does with her friends, so I don’t feel completely isolated. At least that’s what I tell her. Really, her stories make me think too much about the experiences I’ll never get to live.
Maybe you should just give up. Perhaps your sister will understand.
“What do you think, Mr. Spider?” I ask the tiny black critter scurrying across the damp cement floor. “Do you think it’s time for me to go and take my venomous existence out of this world?”
The spider ceases the creeping and turns toward me with it’s front legs raised. Hope sparkles inside me. Have I somehow attained the ability to speak to other venomous creatures?
“Do you understand?” I ask, gripping the bars of my cage. “What it feels like to be feared by all? To be unwanted?”
The spider stands in front of my cage for a split second before scurrying up the water stained wall.
“Lovely. Now I’m talking to spiders who clearly don’t want to listen to me.” I release the bars with a sigh, the water from the leaky shower head dripping onto my forehead. My father installed it in the roof above my cage in order for me to have a way to stay clean, along with a toilet for… Well, you know. Other than a bed, some clothes, and personal hygiene items, that’s pretty much it to my lovely iron bar palace.
