Cursed (5 page)

A man squatted close by. I heard his clothing move as he crouched down. A whiff of minted breath wafted across my face, and I nearly retched. The mint didn’t disguise the menace radiating from his body. “Now, how do you think she got over a fence like that?” The voice was softly spoken with a hint of intelligence behind it.

A finger stroked my cheek. He lifted a strand of hair away from my face. “I know you’re awake.”

I decided to play the game. I opened my eyes and focused on the face staring down at me. It might have once been a handsome face, but I saw the twisted scar that started at the side of the man’s eye and went to the corner of his mouth. The scar made the man’s mouth turn up in a permanent sneer on one side. He tried to smile and the sneer deepened.

His eyes were dark. And blank. And cold. I knew that look. Saw it in the men I’d run from most of my adult life. My father’s assistants. My father himself. Something dropped as heavy as a stone in my stomach. A dreaded realization that things weren’t so different to the world I’d left behind no matter how stupidly desperate I was to believe it otherwise.

“Well, hello sleeping beauty. It’s time to open your eyes and tell us how you did that miraculous acrobatic feat we just witnessed.”

His voice was like his eyes, lacking in tone and dark and as ugly as the scar on his face. Every nerve in my body soared to life and tuned in to the threat of him. Adrenaline rocketed through my veins. Fight and flight. In that order.

“Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask a little less nicely?” The smile that curled his lips didn’t meet his eyes.

“Go to hell,” I said.

His hand snaked out, gripping my upper arm. His fingers dug into my skin sending a jolt of pain through it. “You’re kind of scrawny for a smart mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

He hauled me to my feet like I was lighter than a dry leaf. A wave of dizziness struck me, and I teetered on my toes. He bent my arm behind my back, pulling my wrist toward my shoulder. White-hot pain scorched through my muscles, stealing the breath from my lungs and vision from my eyes.

“I don’t like to ask twice,” he whispered in my ear.

“I don’t like to speak to arseholes.”

“You’re right, Seth. She has got a bit of fight in her,” one of the men said. His interest on me sharpened.

I watched the other men through the black dots that floated in my eyes. They were smiling, enjoying the show. They looked mean. Built. Broad shouldered. Standing as though they owned the ground they walked on with a casual assurance that they could fight for it and win if they wanted to. The type of confidence men had when they knew they could win a fight. They looked like soldiers, but the amusement in their eyes suggested that they weren’t as moralistic.

“Get your goddamned stinking hands off me,” I said.

He rammed my arm higher behind my back. I rose onto my toes, trying to compensate. It took a few seconds for me to be able to suck some air into my lungs.

“Now why would I want to do that? I’m in for a bit of playing. How about you boys?” His colleagues answered with an affirmative grunt.

“Seth, let me go now, and I won’t kill you,” I said, latching on to his name.

Seth laughed softly. His chest reverberated against my back. His other hand snaked across my stomach, upward until he palmed my breast. He dug his fingers into me, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. My stomach clenched.

“Hmm. Not much of you, but you’ll still do nicely.”

He tucked his mouth into the place where my neck met my shoulders and licked me all the way up my neck. He pulled my ear lobe into his mouth, taking the end between his teeth, flicking my skin with the end of his tongue. I clenched my teeth trying not to make a sound. He’d get off on that.

“You’re disgusting,” I whispered, trying not to let my voice wobble.

“I like you like this.” His breath was hot in my ear.

I swallowed hard, forcing some spit into my mouth. “I told you to get your hands off me.”

“You said you would kill me,” Seth said. There was a sound of amusement from one of his friends.

“Let me go.”

“Mmm. You’re delicious. I’m going to have you all to myself.”

“You won’t live to see the day.”

Although I talked tough, I was way beyond the limits of my body. I struggled against an edge of unconsciousness that would take me under if I let it. I knew this time it would wipe me out, but not using it would be worse. I didn’t even know if I had anything left inside of me, but there was no way I could physically fight my way out of here.

I braced a palm onto his chest, willing whatever thought-energy I had in me into my hand and pushed with all of my strength. Seth uttered a surprised sound. Relief slithered down my arm. He dropped my wrist as he was propelled back.

I pushed out again, watching him stagger until his back was pressed against the wall on the opposite side of the alley. I concentrated hard, keeping him there with what energy I scraped together.

He grinned. “What’s the matter, don’t want to play anymore?”

A frown pushed my brows. He didn’t show any surprise. As though what I’d done was an everyday thing. He smirked. His reaction to me wasn’t what I expected. He wasn’t frightened, just curious. Almost like he wanted me to use my ability on him, see how far I could take it.

“This is very interesting. You’ll have to tell me how you do this when we meet next,” he said.

“There won’t be a next time.”

“I very much doubt that. We’ve been waiting a long time for you to come out and play,” he said.

“Who ... who’s been waiting for me?”

A slow smile spread on Seth’s mouth. “I think you know the answer to that.”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Everyone I knew had to be dead and buried by now. And yet, I was here. An impossibility. A fantasy. But reality. If I was here, then ... I didn’t want to conceive of it. But it was my father’s doing that I was here in this time. Who was to say he hadn’t somehow done the same to himself. “Victor.” I did little more than breathe his name.

Seth’s smile spread, but there was no warmth in it. “You’ll have to find out, little mouse.”

“How did you know I’d be here? In this place, at this time. You tell me who is behind all this. Tell me now!”

“So many questions. Put your mind to it. You’ll work it out. Or should I help you?” He stepped toward me, struggling against my thought-energy, but still able to push against it. I must be weaker than I thought. Perspiration cloaked my forehead as I concentrated to push him back. He staggered, then grinned at me. His body quivered, straining, but he managed to step toward me.

His head spun around, and when he looked back at me, his lips curved. “It seems you have a reprieve, little mouse.” He gestured, and the three men turned and disappeared into the alley as though they had never been there.

I saw what had made them disappear. Julius was there, staring right at me, the nose of the ambulance just visible around the corner of a building behind him. One look at his white face, and I knew he had seen the whole thing.

I choked back a sob. My knees buckled, and I dropped my forehead to the ground, fingernails scraping the wet concrete. I wanted to run. To get away, but I could hardly move a limb, let alone get back onto my feet. He had me now. And he knew my secret.

I had really fucked things up.

The light was gloriously low. Dimmed white walls surrounded me. There was a soft noise. Breathing. I tried to focus on where it came from. Then I saw him—the doctor, Julius—lying in a crumpled heap on a chair in a corner of the room. Facing me. Probably to make sure I didn’t escape again.

But I wouldn’t escape. There was nowhere I could go. I was in a world that was totally foreign to me. However far-fetched this whole scenario was, it was the truth. I’d seen it for myself. I was a century beyond my time.

Julius had seen my secret in that alley. My weakness. And I’d have to try to find out what he was going to do about it. What he wanted of me. Because once they knew what I could do, everyone wanted me to do
something
for them.

Now that I could see clearly, I studied him asleep in the chair. His head had slipped into an odd angle and rested on the side of the high back. He was quite tall, long limbs that managed to make the chair seem small. His arms hung loosely on the armrests. His legs were sprawled out in front of him like he hadn’t been able to get comfortable before sleep overcame him.

He had on a crisp, white T-shirt, which made his skin look golden. Even relaxed, I could see the hard bumps of muscles that stretched beneath the skin on his arms. They looked strong and dependable.

His dark brown hair was messy and ruffled in untidy wisps over his forehead, half hiding his eyes. There were blue smudges beneath his eyes, suggesting that it had been some time since he’d managed sleep. He had a straight, strong nose. Generous lips. Dark stubble darkened his face and accentuated sharp cheeks and a firm jawline. In sleep, he was relaxed. Young. Maybe early thirties.

A finger twitched. I saw large veins on the back of his hands. They looked like caring hands, ones that were used to healing people. Hands that had woken me into this new world.

The flood of memories returned of the past few hours. Exhausted, I’d given myself up to whatever he might do to me. There were flashes of his hushed, urgent voice, a blur of lights. Warmth, then sleep. He had been gentle with me, something I hadn’t expected.

I twisted my head, wanting to move. My body protested like I had bruised all my muscles and they had stiffened in defiance. A groan escaped my mouth. Julius’s eyes snapped opened and focused straight on me. He tensed. It started with comprehension in his eyes and flowed into his face, his shoulders, then the rest of his body. His intelligent eyes grew intent. His mouth pulled into a tense line. He sat forward slowly until his elbows rested on his knees and his hands dropped between.

“Who
are
you?” His voice was a molten deep rumble that filled the silence.

There was danger in me telling him too much. Too little and he wouldn’t believe me, too much and he’d have questions. Questions I’d have no intention of answering.

He uncoiled his body from the seat and moved over to me with fluid grace. He propped my head up. I felt water on my lips and opened my mouth for a glorious mouthful. It was cool and washed easily down my throat. Before I knew it I had emptied the glass.

“I thought you might be thirsty. I’d say it’s been a long time since you’ve had a drink,” he said.

I eyed him, watching, waiting for what he’d do next. He placed the glass back on the table. He hesitated, and I could tell he was choosing his next words carefully. “You need to concentrate on getting better. You have nothing to be afraid of here.”

Of course I had to be afraid. That was what kept me alive. Death, or worse, finds complacency. “You saw ... what I did.” My voice was no more than a hoarse whisper.

A shadow passed in the depths of his eyes. “Yes.”

“Do you know ... who I am?”

“I know you’re someone very special. I’ve never seen you before you woke up, but we can talk about it when you’ve gained more strength.”

I studied his face but read nothing other than honesty. Unease slid through my veins. No one was that decent. “Why would you do that for me?”

“Because you look like you have been through hell. And you look like you want to fight me instead of rest. I wouldn’t be a good doctor if I didn’t consider your health. You need time, and I’m making sure you get it.”

It would be nice to let myself think that I might be able to take him at face value, but that had never worked for me in the past. Trust didn’t come easy for me. If it ever did. “I can’t stay.”

I tried to raise myself onto my elbows, but all I managed was to lift my head. It was so heavy I had little choice but to let it fall back into the pillow.

“You have to let your body heal right now.”

“I can take care of myself,” I whispered.

He went to touch my hand, and I jerked it away. His hand dropped to his side. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.” His gaze didn’t waver, and I detected strength and honesty about him. Something I thought I’d never see in anyone again.

It came down to a matter of trust and how much I could believe him. He was a stranger that had seen my darkest secret, but I was weak. I needed to rest. To heal. Protect myself. Give my body a chance to build strength to use my thought-energy. If I continued to use it like I had, I didn’t have a hope of survival. The strain would be too much for me. That was what had always happened to me in the past. I would stay for a day or two here. Let myself heal. It would be a godsend. I would leave after that. It was never safe to stay in one place for too long.

“I’d like to know your name. Just so I know what to call you. Otherwise I’ll have to name you Jane Doe, and you don’t look like much of a Jane Doe to me.”

Moments passed. I wasn’t sure if I should tell him, but he’d seen my secret. My name was nothing compared to that. I licked my lips. “My name is Katia.”

His mouth curved into a gentle smile. “Katia. Your name suits you.” My gaze slid over his face, and he waited until our eyes met again. “You need to eat. I’m going to fix you something. Just rest until I’m back.”

I looked about me for the first time, not recognizing where I was. It certainly wasn’t the hospital room. “Where am I?”

He hesitated, long enough for every cell in my body to stiffen in response. “I’ve brought you to my house.”

“
Your
house ...
Why
?”

“Given what you can do ... your ... talent, I thought it would be best for you in a quieter establishment. You won’t be discovered here. You won’t have to run.”

I frowned. He didn’t know me, he didn’t know what I could do, in fact, he didn’t know what I was completely capable of. If he knew that, he wouldn’t have done something as foolish as taking me into his personal space. I glanced around me. There was nothing of the sterile hospital room here. I was in a soft bed with a beautifully soft cover over me. I traced a design, a leaf with fine gold stitching. Nothing frilly. A masculine design. There was a photograph on the wall. A landscape of a clear lake with a misty mountain rising behind it. Next to me was a table with books piled in an untidy heap. A lamp. A clock. Ordinary things marked this room. Personal things. I was in his room. His space. In his bed.