Cursed (21 page)

I washed up quickly with cold water and ran my fingers through my hair which was thick then, and coal black.
There wasn’t much I could do about my clothes which I knew were not only dirty, but stank of sweat and horse.

Returning through the kitchen, nodding at the women, I quietly walked down the carpeted hallway and knocked lightly on the wide door frame of the front parlor before coming into view.
Mr. Todd called out for me to enter and I stood for a moment in the doorway, surveying the room and the three new blond women I would come to know. My eyes traveled from Mr. Todd, standing near the fireplace, looking agitated, to his wife who sat straight backed on the edge of the sofa with her youngest daughter, Penny holding a book.

Then I saw Catherine.
She was sitting in a chair by the window on the other side of the room, the late afternoon sun bouncing off the highlights in her hair creating a halo around the pale tresses that had escaped the upswept hairstyle. The color on her cheeks was high and she was busy with her needlepoint on her lap. She was clearly as agitated as her father. When she looked up at me and I saw that angelic face I felt stunned. I didn’t think my legs would work to enter the room.”

Mason had been lulled by his full stomach and listening to his own voice all this time so the new voice interrupting his narrative surprised him.
It was a sleepy sounding voice.

“You had the deepest sea blue eyes I ever saw.”

Becoming immediately alert he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Not knowing what to do, he could only helplessly look on as he watched Sarah, sitting straight up, eyes slightly glazed over but still fixated on him.
Maybe she’s in shock? Or maybe she is just starting to remember.

“Your shoulders were broad and you had a white button down shirt rolled up on your forearms that showed off your golden skin, tanned from the early spring sun.
When you looked at me with those eyes I think my heart stopped for a moment and I couldn’t hear anything in the room. I realized I was holding my breath.” She was quiet, seeing the vision she was describing, and then she began to say his name. “Aiden.” Her eyes lost the faraway look and started to focus. “Aiden.” Sarah’s lips started to tremble. “Aiden? . . . Aiden!”

Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it but he could see the shock registering in her wide eyes.
She pulled her feet up on to the couch and started to push back into the corner of the couch.

“Sarah.
It’s okay. Sarah, really, it’s okay. I promise.”

“But how did I see that?
I don’t understand!” That slight sound of hysteria started entering her voice like it had earlier after the crow hit the window.

“I don’t know, Sarah.”
He shook his head looking at the floor, lost in unchartered territory. Abruptly he stood and began pacing, agitated and confused. Was this real? Or was this some sort of trickery because he could feel Selena was near. Watching. Was Sarah being manipulated or could it really be . . .

“Mason?”

Mason kept pacing, lost in his own thoughts and not hearing the small, soft voice from the couch.

“Mason.”

Finally hearing the voice break into his thoughts, he turned to look at her. She was staring at his legs and feet and had her right hand on her earlobe.

“You’re not limping anymore.”

Looking down, he could see his legs did indeed appear to be aligned side by side but he was afraid to move. After a moment, he took a few steps back towards the windows and turned, realizing his back was straighter too. He wasn’t pulling his left side along as he normally did, and he felt stronger overall. Flexing and rolling his shoulders he realized he hadn’t stood this straight in nearly fifty years and rolled his neck, adjusting to the new posture.

“You’re right.
I’m not limping.”

“What aren’t you telling me Mason?”

He noticed she was looking a bit wary, and rightly so. He would be too if he was watching a man physically change before his eyes in a 24 hour period and telling an incredible story like this.

“I was getting to that, Sarah.
But I didn’t know you were going to react, or remember, like you did.”

“Remember?
I can’t possibly remember something that didn’t happen to me.” She sounded irritated at the suggestion. “I just felt like I was seeing a vision of some sort. Like a movie playing in my head.”

Mason walked to the door, bending over easily to pick up the brown paper bag that he brought earlier that morning.

“May I show you something?”

Sarah nodded as he walked over to the couch.
Before he would pull out what he brought, he looked at her with a mixture of sorrow and hope which he could tell by her facial expression was causing some confusion.

“I’m going to show you something but I’m not sure what reaction, if any, you might have.
But it will help as I continue my story.”

Sarah nodded and waited, her hand disappearing under her hair again to tug on her earlobe.

Mason dug into some tissue paper and pulled out a doll, about twelve inches tall. Bisque head and arms, brown hair and moveable eyes. The doll was wearing an antique dress, yellowed with age, which had a deep green velvet sash. Fine details were painted on the face that had only one small hairline crack near the doll's temple.

Mason carefully handed the doll to Sarah who cradled it delicately.
She smoothed the dress and hair, staring down at the doll. Mason watched her expression change from confusion to delight to confusion again. A chill ran up his spine as he realized this wasn’t a trick. This girl from Connecticut was indeed Catherine.

“I don’t understand? Where did you get this?”

“Does it seem familiar?”

“Yes.
Well, I think so.” She seemed mesmerized with the doll and her voice was far away. “I feel like I had it when I was a child but I don’t think I would have had something this delicate and old? Maybe it was my grandmothers and I remember it from there, but . . .” Her body shook almost as if she wanted to shake away.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. I have a strange feeling I can’t seem to shake. I know I have seen this doll somewhere before but I feel like I am blocking the memory.”

“It was Catherine’s doll.”

Sarah’s head snapped up and looked at Mason’s face, noting he looked about twenty years younger than he had that morning. That revelation wasn’t even the biggest one though, with the words he had just said still in her head.

“But . . .
I
remember it. I
know
I do. I remember being really sick once as a child. I had a high fever and was in bed sick for days. I kept asking for my doll and my mother filled my bed with my Barbie dolls. I kept saying no and throwing them over the side of the bed, not being able to explain which doll I wanted.
This
was the doll I was looking for.” She looked back at the painted face and reached up to lovingly smooth the doll’s hair.

“Sarah, do you believe in reincarnation?”

The phone had been ringing but neither Sarah nor Mason moved. Both were deep in thought and exhausted mentally by this revelation. When the phone started to ring for a second call, Sarah finally stood and reached for her mobile phone, sliding her finger across the screen to answer.

“Hello?”

Mason opened the curtains and looked out the tall living room windows into the darkness. His reflection in the window was not of a man he recognized anymore and was thankful this curse was subsiding – but at what cost?

He had the distinct feeling he was being watched but that was impossible up here on the third floor.
Still, he couldn’t shake it. Sarah was in the kitchen area, getting a glass of water while speaking to one of her parents and agreeing that she would be ready to be picked up by late morning. He was half disappointed and half glad she would be getting out of here and wondered if he would be able to keep her away. This situation could be treacherous if Selena is around, and if she figured out whom Sarah truly was.

Hanging up, Sarah promptly started to cry.
Her hands covered her face as uncontrollable sobs shook her body. Mason crossed the room in a flash but then was afraid to touch her. He reached out but his hand hovered over her shoulder and he pulled it back. His wanting to wrap his arms around her to console her fears battled with his feeling of being repugnant still and not wanting to scare or offend her.

“I don’t know what to do,” she wailed.
The wind whipping up outside, seemingly in connection with her emotions.

“I want to see my family and be home, but I want to stay here, too.
I need to know what happened and understand all this. I also don’t want to leave you. I feel afraid, like something bad is about to happen, but I am not sure what. Does that make sense?”

“I think I feel the same, although, I think it will be best if you do leave.
I didn’t want to believe my fears at first, but I think there is something going on and I want to make sure you are safe.”

Sarah leaned into Mason, wrapping her arms around him holding tightly and he responded by doing the same.
It was not a romantic gesture on her part, more out of emotion and the need to feel safe and comforted. He understood, regardless he still remembered what it was like to hold Catherine and he had to keep this sudden memory in check.

Outside the wind howled and fiercely whipped up against the windows.
Mason, still holding Sarah against him with her head on his shoulder, stole a look at the dark window across the room. Instead of seeing their reflection, as he had seen his just a few moments before, he thought he saw a face outside the window, a beautiful face twisted into a mask of hatred and jealousy. As soon as he let go of Sarah, the face hovering in the darkness outside the window vanished but left the hair on his head and back of his neck standing on end and a cold feeling in his stomach. His arms and legs tingled and he knew this was adrenaline pumping into his bloodstream, his instinctual queue of fight or flight.

Not wanting to make her nervous about his sudden release, he put his hand on her back and guided her to the couch.
He returned to the window and closed the curtains again, not wanting to see that face in the darkness, or ever again.

“Sarah, I don’t think we have much time but there is so much more of this story I need to tell you.
To help you understand and maybe keep you safe. But first, I need to know, who gave you that charcoal burner and agarwood?”

Sarah looked perplexed by the question but answered, “My friend Zoe.
I met her when I first came to Boston.”

“How did you meet?”

“In a bagel shop. Why? What does all this have to do with Zoe?”

“Is Zoe a beautiful woman? I mean not just beautiful but stunning?
Do men seem to be attracted to her almost as if under a spell?”

Sarah didn’t need to think about this long, immediately answering yes to all accounts.

“Does she have bright, really bright, cobalt blue eyes and ruby red lips that seem to curl up in the corners when she smiles?”
He held his breath for this answer and sat back on the couch when Sarah nodded, starting to look nervous.

“There is a good chance your friend Zoe and Selena, the governess that I told you about, are one and the same.
They thought Selena was part witch.”

“They? Part witch?
And what else?”

“Anna and Mrs. Burke. They believed she was a witch but they also suspected she could be a succubus.
Or demon. She seemed to be able to suck the life-blood out of men; to stay young, beautiful and strong. But when she came in contact with women, she didn’t have the same effect. Women would just get really tired or sick.”

“Sick?” They looked at each other grasping the fact that Sarah had been sick.

“Did Zoe touch you? Your wrist?”

“No, she didn’t touch my wrist, but my wrist touched her.
When Zoe gave me the Christmas gift I gave her a big hug to thank her. It was the one and only time I had touched her. She seemed shocked by the gesture and tried to pull back. I had just thought it was incredibly nice of her to bring me a gift but that maybe she just wasn’t the huggy type.”

“It’s a good chance she sapped just enough from you that your immunity was down and caused you to get sick.”

“But Zoe doesn’t look any older than me. How could she possibly be Selena?” He looked at Sarah and could tell she was having trouble believing all he was throwing at her. He had to make sure she understood how dangerous Selena, or Zoe, could be.

“My guess is she feeds off the life force of men and that keeps her young.
Does Zoe always have men around her?”

Sarah thought about it briefly but reluctantly admitted that Zoe had no shortage of men, mentioning the man she picked up at the restaurant recently. Sarah dropped her head into her hands, shaking it back and forth in denial.

“Mason, I had a hard time at first believing you could be 150 years old but you seemed to believe it so adamantly and told such a detailed account that I came to believe it. Now you are throwing reincarnation at me that I am having trouble wrapping my head around that whole concept but can’t deny I am having certain memories. Plus, thinking about it, I felt like as you were telling me the story about your time at the fire station and the O’Malley’s I almost knew the story. Like I had heard it a long time ago but couldn’t remember any further than what you were saying at the time. But now, a witch who is part . . . what did you call it?”