Cursed (18 page)

I didn’t know where I was going, but I had to get away—far enough that I could put distance between the humiliation of the raw jealousy I felt and its source. Seeing all of them together was like a punch in the face, but worse. It wasn’t just Hayden and Phoebe cuddled together, holding one another like lovers do. That
did
sting. But it was more like lancing open a wound that had just healed. They’d looked like a family. And my own sister, softly snoring among them, was a kick in the gut.

I wasn’t a part of their mismatched family. Once, Hayden had tried to include me, but he, too, had given up on that. Their bonds—their gifts—linked them all together, while I existed on the outside.

Everything crashed together: the accident, what’d happened to my mom, those two years struggling to keep our heads above the water. And then being brought here, thrust into a world I didn’t really understand, surrounded by people who not only feared me, but possibly wanted to do me real harm.

I walked along the road from the Cromwell mansion, slowly shattering with each heavy step I took. Hugging my elbows close to my chest, I stopped as I reached the end of the private road. I hadn’t realized I’d been walking that long. Tipping my head up, I watched the sun make its descent over the ridge of the Seneca Rocks.

Part of me never wanted to go back to that house, to have to see Hayden and Phoebe like that again. I rubbed the heel of my hand over my chest, taking a deep breath. I hadn’t really thought there was something between them, but they had been spending a lot of time together.

My chest squeezed as I turned around and shuffled off the road. There were trails all through the woods, areas where I imagined Hayden and the others had worn the pathways into the ground over the years. My feet carried me deeper into the woods. The temperature dropped as the sun fell and thick shadows descended under the trees.

Finding a fallen log, I sat on the edge and pulled off my gloves. Gray smudges marred the tips of my fingers. There weren’t as elegant as Phoebe’s or as strong as Hayden’s, but their hands didn’t kill. Although, I guess Hayden’s could, if he held on long enough.

But his hands were beautiful, anyway.

I dragged my fingers over my head, catching the curls that had escaped my ponytail. My heart was doing this weird achy thing that made me question my sanity as I thought about the last night we’d spent in the cabin. If I tried hard enough I could remember how it had felt to be in his embrace, feeling his heart beat under my cheek.

The same thing Phoebe was feeling right now.

Air caught in my throat, and I wiped my hands over my damp cheeks. My watery gaze fell to the log. A weed poked through the bark, springing up with green, spindly leaves.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I dragged in a deep breath and forced my mind to go empty—to let all the hurt wash away, to stamp down the fear that settled in the back of my throat. If I could just touch something and not kill it, then things would change.

They had to.

Slowly, I held my breath, reached and brushed the tips of my fingers over the velvety leaves. The weed shuddered once under my fingers. The soft leaves turned rough and crispy. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit my lip. When I did open my eyes, the weed lay limp against the bark. Dead.

“I really am Death,” I muttered. Then I hiccupped as another salty tear rolled down my face.

A popping sound followed, and then something whizzed by my head, slamming into the tree behind me. Tiny pieces of bark splintered and shot through the air, raking the back of my head.

My heart jumped into my throat as I pivoted, grabbing the edges of the dead tree. An arrow was thrust deep into the tree, still quivering. Vaguely, I realized it was one of those arrows professional hunters used. My dad had owned a set.

“What the he—”

Searing pain lanced through me, stealing my breath. The force of the blow jerked me around and I toppled over the log. The back of my head cracked off a rock. Light burst behind my eyes, and then darkness pulled me under.

Chapter 22

W
hen I opened my eyes, it was dark and there was a raccoon digging at the ground by my face. I drew in a deep breath, whimpering as pain shot down my arm and through my skull.

The raccoon froze, and its ears went back. A heartbeat passed, and then it scuttled off.

Groaning, I sat up slowly and touched the top of my arm. The material was ripped and felt sticky. I pressed harder and yelped. In the dark, my hand and the sleeve of my shirt looked like it had been dipped in oil. A few feet from me, where the raccoon had been, an arrow lay nestled between two rocks and a patch of grass.

I’d been shot by a frikkin’ arrow. My God, I had the worst luck known to man.

I rolled to my feet, swaying as a wave of dizziness nearly brought me to my knees. Placing my hand over the wound, I ignored the bite of pain and pressed down. Blood seeped through my fingers.

Things were foggy as I stumbled back through the woods. Luckily, I’d managed to stay on the trail and reached the road leading to Cromwell’s house. The bad news was that the hike was mostly uphill from here, and I seriously doubted I was going to make it. I forced myself to put one foot in front of the other, stopping every once in a while to wipe the clammy sweat dotting my forehead.

Every few seconds I had a moment of clarity. Had someone shot me on purpose or had it been meant for a deer? But those questions slipped back in the haze. I was exhausted, legs shaking as I climbed the road.

Out of the darkness, a yellow light cut through the night, and then a voice, “Ember!”

I started walking faster, tripping over my own feet. “Hayden…?” My voice came out hoarse, weak. I doubted he heard me.

“Hayden, I can feel her. I think… I think she’s hurt,” I heard Phoebe say. “Her emotions are off, tainted somehow. She’s in the road.”

There was a muffled curse, and then the sound of pounding feet. The light swayed erratically, passed me and then swung back. A few seconds later, Hayden was running out of the darkness and grasping my shoulders.

I cried out as pain shrieked down my arm.

Hayden pulled his hands back. “What happened?” His gaze dropped. “Jesus, you’re bleeding! Are you okay?”

“I was shot… by an arrow.” Those words sounded bizarre even to me.

His response was to move in, sweeping one arm under my legs, and then I was up, my cheek resting against his pounding heart. “Phoebe, run back and tell them to meet us halfway.”

All I heard was her lighter footsteps rushing off. “I can… walk. I’m fine.”

“Being shot with an arrow does
not
equal fine.” Hayden started back, his long strides eating away at the distance between us and the house. “We’ve been looking for you for the last hour. Do you know what happened?”

Each step jarred the wound in my arm. I wondered how deep it was. Another scar, I realized dully. I told him everything, skipping over the part where I’d seen him cuddled on the couch with Phoebe.

“Jesus, you’ve could’ve been killed,” he said. I opened my eyes, but the hard lines of his face gave nothing away. He looked down, his eyes drifting over me. “Does your head hurt?”

“I’ll survive.” Assuming someone didn’t shoot a rocket at me next.

A car roared down the road, coasting to a stop in front of us. Kurt jumped out of the driver’s seat, spinning around to open the back door. “Put her in here.”

“When… when did he get back?” I asked.

“An hour or so ago,” Hayden replied. “He’s going to take you to the hospital.”

I clenched his arm, not wanting to go anywhere with Kurt. “What about you?”

“I’m coming with you.” He placed me in the back seat. “Don’t worry.”

“No.” Cromwell turned around in the front passenger seat, his eyes coolly assessing everything. “I want you to go back to the house,

Hayden.”

“But—”

“I need you to make sure everyone stays calm, Hayden. I need you here. We can take care of Ember.”

I shuddered as my eyes bounced from Kurt to Hayden’s father. I had a death grip on Hayden’s arm.

Hayden looked reluctant to let me go. He watched as Kurt climbed behind the wheel. Pressing his lips together, he faced me. “It’s going to be okay.” Then he was letting go and closing the door. His pale face filled the window.

Kurt tore off, leaving Hayden behind. I turned to the front of the car, my eyes meeting Cromwell’s as I held my injured arm close to my side. Balls of ice formed in my belly.

“Tell me everything,” he said.

I told him the same thing I’d told Hayden, and the whole time I felt Kurt’s eyes watching me from the rear view mirror. The balls of ice grew, drenching my veins. It sort of struck me then. Nothing in the past had been an accident. Why would the car the night of the bonfire—or this—be an accident?

* * *

I hadn’t been in a hospital since the night of the car crash, but this by far won for the most bizarre hospital visit ever. Cromwell stayed by my side, using his Jedi mind tricks to make sure the nurses and doctors gloved up before ever coming into contact with my skin.

Ripped and soaked with blood, my favorite hoodie was toast. The arrow had caught the upper part of my arm, digging deep enough to require stitches. Watching the blank-faced doctor suture my skin was an event I never wanted to experience again. I kept waiting for his fingers to slip.

The nurse returned halfway through the procedure, wearing the same indifferent mask as the doctor. She handed me a small cup and a couple of pills.

“What’s this?” I asked, glancing at Cromwell.

“It’s for the pain,” she replied. Her slight southern drawl was flat. “The local anesthesia will wear off and you’ll be aching for sure.”

The tugging on my skin stopped and the doctor studied the x-rays they’d taken of my head. “It looks good, Mayor Cromwell. No signs of a concussion or serious injury.”

Cromwell nodded. “That’s a relief to hear.”

Swallowing the pills, I sort of doubted that. I handed the empty cup back to the nurse. The numb part of my arm already tingled pins-and-needles around the edges.

“I’d keep an eye on her for a few days. If she experiences any dizziness, memory loss, abnormal fatigue or behavioral changes, I want you to bring her back in here.” The doctor stood, moving to the trashcan as he peeled off his bloodied gloves. Facing me, he smiled weakly. “The woods this time of year can be dangerous. It’s bowhunting season.”

Unwillingly, my gaze went to the massive man slouched in the corner of the room. I wondered if Kurt did any bowhunting. Could it only be a coincidence that he’d returned at the same time someone had tried to make a shish kabob out of me? And the car that’d almost run me over could’ve been one of the Porsches sitting in the garage.

Kurt arched a blond brow at me.

My lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. I waited until we were in the car before I gave him the third degree. In the back of my mind, I wondered if the pain pills had given me a form of chemical courage. “So, where’ve you been?”

He glanced at Cromwell. “On business.”

I leaned forward, planting myself between the two front seats. “You have a job?”

Cromwell raised his brows at me. “Perhaps you should sit back and rest, Ember.”

“I’m not tired.” I stared at Kurt. “What kind of job do you have?” He looked at Cromwell again, who sighed and shook his head. “I work for Jonathan.”

“Really,” I said. “And what kind of work is that?”

Kurt looked like he was fighting a smile. “Whatever he asks me to do.”

I started to fold my arms, but felt the stitches pull. “So, you’d put stuff in people’s lockers?”

He laughed. “What?”

“How about slicing up bunnies?”

His jaw tightened. “Not lately, princess.”

I made a face. “So, when was the last time you did it?”

“Are you high?” asked Kurt.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

Cromwell turned in the seat, clearly not amused. “You’ve had a very stressful evening and are probably under the influence of strong narcotics. That’s the only reason why I’m tolerating what is coming out of your mouth at this moment, but please let me make myself clear. One more insinuation and I may do something I’ll regret later.”

My eyes narrowed on him. “Like what?”

He held my stare. “Did I not make myself clear?”

I flung myself against the back seat, wincing at the dull flare of pain. “Yeah, you’re crystal clear, boss.”

Kurt snorted. “I kind of like her like this.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Cromwell said, sighing.

Thankfully, Kurt drove like he was in NASCAR and we pulled into the garage in record time. Not waiting for them, I yanked open the handle and stumbled out of the car.

“Hey, you might want to take it a bit easy. You’re going to pull your stitches out.” Kurt was a step behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder. “And you’d care? Really? Didn’t you try to tackle me in my house?”

A wry smile pulled at his lips. “Didn’t you hit me over the head with a lamp?”

“
And
I knocked you out,” I added.

Cromwell pinched the bridge of his nose.

Before Kurt could respond, the door to the garage flew open. Hayden’s dark eyes focused on me. “How are you?”

“Lovely,” Cromwell muttered. “Hayden, could you please get Liz? She can help Ember get cleaned up and ready for bed.”

I brushed past them all, promptly tripping over the raised doorway to the kitchen. Incredibly fast, Hayden snagged me around the waist and set me on my feet. I shrugged his arm off. “I can clean myself up, thank you.”

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, following me into the kitchen.

“Pain pills.” Kurt laughed. “She’s definitely not a happy pill user.”

I spun around, using my good arm to point at him. “I’m not happy because someone is after me! There are creepy and gross things in my locker!” I stepped to the side, tugging on my ruined hoodie. “And I can clean myself. I don’t want
her
to help me. I want my mom to help me.”

Hayden’s expression softened as he caught my covered wrists. “Ember, you don’t want to do that.” He moved my hand away from the hem of my hoodie. “Let me take you upstairs.”

I stared into his deep brown eyes. They were so beautiful, so open. It took me a moment to remember why I was angry with him. I pulled away from him. “I saw you,” I whispered.

His brows rose as he whispered back, “Saw what?”

“With her.” I lowered my eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. All my anger suddenly vanished. The cockiness dried up. I just wanted to sit down. And maybe take a bath. Sit first, though.

Confusion faded from his face. “Ember, that’s not—”

“I wanna see my mom.” I turned away from him, realizing then we had company.

The twins stood in the doorway, flanked by the cherub-faced Gabe. They all stared at me.

“What?” I grumbled.

Gabe’s lips pursed. “You have blood all over your left cheek.”

Hastily, I used the good sleeve of my hoodie and swiped it over my face.

Hayden caught my arm, pulling it down. “It’s okay. Gabe, where’s Liz?”

“She’s with Olivia.” Gabe folded his arms as he shifted his weight to his other foot. “Olivia wanted Liz to stay with her until she fell asleep or something.”

My shoulders slumped. Olivia hadn’t asked me to do that since we’d come here.

“So… what happened?” Phoebe asked quietly.

“She thinks I slice up rabbits.” Kurt pulled out a chair and dropped into it. I scowled as he stretched out his legs. He winked. “She thinks I’m your run-of-the-mill psychopath.”

Phoebe’s eyes went wide.

“Kurt,” Hayden warned softly.

“You are a psychopath,” I said.

“Ember, what did I tell you in the car?” Cromwell grabbed a water from the fridge. “You’ve had a troubling evening—”

“You can’t tell me these things aren’t related!” I backed away, hitting the edge of the counter. “Y-you just expect me to think all these things are coincidences?”

Phoebe crossed her arms, stricken-looking. “Oh, damn…”

“What?” asked her twin, frowning. Then his eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

Those words had a stilling effect on everyone in the room, probably because Parker rarely ever spoke. I’d forgotten how soft and melodious his voice was.

Phoebe rubbed a hand down her face. The kitchen light caught and reflected off the deep purple nail polish. Suddenly, she whirled on her twin. “I know,” she hissed. “I’m fucked up. Don’t you think I know that?”

“What’s going on?” Cromwell demanded.

Parker shook his head. “Tell them, or I will.”

I leaned against the counter as Hayden stepped forward. Compassion marked his gaze as he approached Phoebe. At once, I had a feeling I should be sitting down.

“Phoebe? You can tell us.” Hayden took her hand. “What did you do?”

I squeezed my eyes shut. He cared for her. It was so evident; probably everyone in the room could sense it. How had I missed it? Because I was a glutton for punishment, I opened my eyes in time to see Hayden pull her against his chest. Had I really meant anything to Hayden? Or was Phoebe just more broken than me?

Then Phoebe started crying. “I’m sorry. I really am.” Her voice was muffled against Hayden’s sweater. “I just couldn’t take it.”

Cromwell walked around the table, placing his hand on Phoebe’s back. His eyes met Hayden’s as he spoke. “Couldn’t take what, Phoebe?”

“Her,” she said. “Her emotions are all over the place, and they’re dark. They keep pulling me in!” She tore away from Hayden, whirling on Cromwell. “You brought her here without any regard to us! How it would affect any of us!”

I felt my stomach sink, and then Kurt was beside me, guiding me into a chair. “You look like you’re going to fall over.”

Phoebe wiped the palms of her hands across her cheeks. “I just wanted her to leave, so everything could go back to normal. Then I’d be able to come home and not have to rely on Hayden to take the edge off everything!”

“Why didn’t you say something?” asked Cromwell. “We could’ve been working on your blocking.”

She laughed, and suddenly, she was composed—only her wet lashes gave an indication that she’d been crying. “It was me. I did it.”