The Cursed (The Unearthly)

  “Yes,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

  A smile touched his face. “Then so it shall be.”

  He steered me out of the room, and I almost sighed in relief. Anything would be better than what we were about to do.

  I just hate it when I’m wrong.

  Andre turned in time to see Oliver taking in the scene before him. His eyebrows hiked up at the carnage, and then he caught sight of Gabrielle. Oliver staggered and grabbed the doorframe. His mouth moved, but over the music blaring in Andre’s ears, he couldn’t hear the fairy’s words.

  But he could see the fairy’s grief. Oliver must’ve seen the blood or felt the death that clung to her body. Andre saw the ragged sob that came from the fairy’s lips.

  Andre’s eyes closed again, and his body shook, his rage now usurped by his grief. She couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t. He refused to believe it.

  His eyes snapped open as a thought crossed his mind. “Oliver,” he said, “you can travel to other realms—you can get her, you can bring her back.” He didn’t have to hear his voice to know that desperation had entered it.

  The fairy was shaking his head, and in the dim light of the room, Andre saw the glint of Oliver’s tears. He began to speak, and Andre read his lips. “… so sorry … can’t travel to the Underworld … unless … Samhain. Even then, … who enter … can’t leave.”

  Andre sagged against the altar, bowing his head as more bloody tears mixed with Gabrielle’s blood.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. One of the cloaked figures was trying to escape. One of the bastards that had killed her.

  They will pay.

  He was on the figure in an instant, ripping off the being’s cloak. Beneath it was a man who cowered at the sight of Andre.

  Andre’s upper lip curled, and he bared his fangs. “You dare try to leave?” he hissed.

  The man’s entire body shook, and he smelled ammonia as the man’s bladder released. He could see his mouth moving, begging.

  Andre’s fury was no longer mindless—at least, not for the moment. He knew enough about grief to expect another wave to slam into him, and soon.

  “Gabrielle begged for her life,” Andre said. “I’ll show you as much mercy as you showed her.” He kicked the man’s knees in. The ridiculous techno music Oliver had programmed on his iPod drowned out the sound of shattering bone and screams. The man collapsed on the ground, his skin beginning to sweat. His face pinched together in agony.

  Andre knelt. “I’d rip out your throat, except then you’d die too quickly. Perhaps if you hadn’t killed my mate, I’d be more benevolent. Then again, humanity was always her thing, not mine.”

  He pulled out two of his throwing knives and slashed open the man’s stomach, just like the others. Andre rose to his feet and kicked the man in the legs. Now that scream he could hear even over the music. Cold cruelty was always more satisfying than his mindless rages.

  Andre glanced behind him at the fairy, who still stood in the doorway, his gun hanging limply at his side. The fairy’s eyes were wide with shock.

  “This, my friend, is why you should’ve stayed upstairs.”

  Chapter 27

  “Game room,” the devil said with a bored flick of his wrist as we entered it. We’d wound our way through the castle, the devil giving me the world’s most half-assed tour.

  Then again, considering the rooms’ horrible contents, the less information, the better. Like this room, for instance.

  I sucked in my cheeks as the smell of death wafted over me. It wasn’t a game room in the sense of board games or a billiards table. Nope. It was a hunter’s game room, and everywhere I looked, I saw relics of the hunted.

  I was going to be sick. A unicorn’s head was mounted next to a head of a dragon. The full body of a being with webbed feet and gills sat on display in the corner. Next to it was a centaur, posed to look as though it were rearing up. On the other side of the room a griffin rested next to a stuffed sphinx.

  “These creatures are real?”

  “Were real. Most are extinct now.”

  I caught sight of a wall dedicated solely to wings. Iridescent fairy wings were pinned to the wall right next to what looked like bat wings—very, very large bat wings. Other sets had plumage and came in deep, vibrant colors. There were so many pairs that they overlapped one another.

  Intelligent beings had been caught, killed, and were now displayed. Perhaps when the devil got tired of me, I’d join them.

  I shuddered at the thought.

  “Enjoying the tour so far?” the devil asked, throwing me a glance. One side of his mouth curved up, and he gave me a knowing look.

  “It’s … unusual.” Yeah, unusual and horrific.

  We left the room and continued through the castle. I began to rub my arms as the preternatural chill sank into my bones. I was learning that was the chill that came from being in a place where God simply wasn’t.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked. We’d come across no one, and I still couldn’t hear any voices.

  The devil slowed until we walked side-by-side. “Gone,” he murmured.

  I pulled back to look at him and caught him just as his gaze dropped to my backside.

  “For a guy who rules the Underworld, you sure seem awfully interested in … life,” I commented.

  He flashed me a sinful smile. “Care to see the extent of my interest?”

  The corners of my mouth drew down. There was innuendo in that offer. Ew, ew, ew!

  “Er, no.” Before the devil could get all up in arms about my rejection, I changed the subject. “Where, exactly, is this home of yours?” I asked.

  The devil’s gaze drifted over my face and down my neck as we walked, but he didn’t answer.

  “Romania?” I ventured.

  An amused smile touched his lips. “In your world it is.”

  I wasn’t going to dissect that statement. I wasn’t.

  “It’s a castle,” I continued. “It’s …” I sucked in air. I glanced at him, wide-eyed. “Are we in Dracula’s castle?”

  “We are in my castle.”

  That was devil-speak for, yes, we are in Dracula’s castle. Which would’ve been cool, except these were so not the right circumstances to rejoice. “Isn’t this place a tourist destination?” I asked.

  “Beings of both my world and yours do flock here,” the devil said as we entered a hall.

  “Beings of your world … ?” A shiver ran down my spine when I remembered the shrieking I’d heard from somewhere further inside the house. I shook my head to clear it. “Are we still in my world?”

  “Your petty questions bore me,” the devil said, reaching for my hand.

  I bristled at his words, yanking my hand out of his reach.

  In response, the devil pushed me against the wall and slid a leg between my own. He eyed my cleavage. “I warned you that I did not tolerate insolence. Since you’re so determined to avoid my touch, it shall be your punishment.” He dipped his head and kissed the valley between my breasts.

  It took all my willpower not to punt his unholy ass across the room. I’d already seen what the devil was like when I pissed him off. But even as I held back, I knew I couldn’t forever. I’d end up living out my own personal nightmare. I was in hell, after all.

  He picked up a lock of hair and brushed it across the exposed skin of my chest. My jaw tightened at the action. “What I find strange,” he said, “is that you haven’t asked about the wellbeing of the shapeshifter.” His eyes flicked up to mine.

  I flushed at the reminder. I barely thought about Caleb since I’d woken up. “Is he okay?” I asked, worry coating my words. I ignored the stab of guilt I felt when I realized that I’d rather know whether Andre was safe.

  “Hmm, how badly do you want t
o know?” he asked, peering at me. “I could tell you all about him and your snaggle-toothed boyfriend—for a price.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

  “What did you expect? That I’d be some valiant, selfless creature? I am the devil.”

  “Supposedly you are also Pluto, my husband,” I said, trying not to choke on the word.

  The devil’s attention snapped to me. He leaned in so close that his torso pressed into mine. “Not supposedly. I am your husband. I’m amusing your ridiculous questions and interests right now instead of chaining you to our bed because I’m trying to be accommodating and caring—vastly overrated qualities if you ask me. Those emotions have atrophied quite a bit since my fall,” the devil said, leaning in closer to me, “so I suggest you tread lightly. If you don’t,” he snapped his fingers, “they just might disappear completely.”

  Holy shit. Nightmares really do come true.

  “What are your conditions?” I whispered.

  “That you accept and make use of my wedding gift immediately.”

  What sort of horrible present was it that he’d need me to agree to this? “And if I don’t?” I asked.

  “I will betray every last one of your secrets to those who’d wish you harm.”

  I furrowed my brows. What sort of secrets could harm me here and now?

  “I’m not going to make that kind of deal with you,” I said.

  “Then perhaps we’re wasting our time down here. Perhaps we should go back to our bedroom.”

  He was giving me a choice that wasn’t really a choice at all.

  “Fine,” I snapped.

  “Fine what?”

  “I agree.” I bit the inside of my cheeks as soon as the words left my mouth. What was wrong with me that I’d make a deal with the devil?

  A triumphant smile spread across the devil’s face, and I ignored how attractive his features were when he didn’t look like he had gutting and flaying on his mind.

  “Aw, consort, you like my form,” he stated, drawing a hand down my arm. Revulsion had my muscles locking up.

  “It’s deceptive. Just like you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment since I know you’re not so stupid as to anger me right after I warned you of my wrath.”

  He stepped away from me and took my trembling hand. “Now,” he said, beginning to walk again, “to answer my side of the bargain, Caleb and Andre are both quite fine—though I doubt the bloodsucker will hold onto his humanity much longer. Loss does that to a person.”

  My gaze darted to the devil, my mouth parting in horror. “You mean Andre’s grieving … for me?”

  I touched my chest, feeling the aching absence of our connection. Yet somehow I was still aware, still lucid. I’d assumed the afterlife would feel like a hazy dream at best.

  The devil only said, “More souls will enter my gates tonight, thanks to him.”

  I glanced away, my grief crumpling my expression. My heart flared to life weakly. Here in this place without God, love came to die.

  “As for Caleb, it strikes me as odd that you haven’t seen him since you woke.”

  “Perhaps I would’ve if I hadn’t been bound, gagged, and blindfolded.” But as usual, the devil’s words had worked their way under my skin.

  “Hmm,” he murmured.

  “What happened to him?” I asked.

  We passed through a guestroom with walls the color of dried blood. Judging by the old, metallic smell and the way my fangs descended—ew—that was exactly what it was.

  “Well now this is what’s unusual,” the devil said. “The shapeshifter woke up shortly before you did in a small town about an hour from here. He’s confused but unharmed.”

  My eyes widened at that. Grigori had dropped him off before delivering me to my killers? “What are you saying?”

  The devil squeezed my hand, and I gnashed my teeth together to keep from ripping it away from him.

  “Would it also surprise you to know that Grigori was not amongst those that watched you die?”

  Now I did yank my hand from his and backed away from him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  His eyes had a twinkle to them. “Because no one and nothing is as you think.”

  Andre left the broken man and prowled back to the altar, eyeing the cowering crowd. His rage, his inhuman rage, was being held in check by something even more primal—his grief-fueled instinct. And right now, it was telling him to stay by Gabrielle’s side and protect his soulmate, even if her life had fled her.

  And while he didn’t understand it, he heeded it, approaching Gabrielle’s bloody body once more. He took her hand in his, and another crimson tear dripped down his face when he felt the chill of her skin. The chill only death brings. Yet he couldn’t leave her side, couldn’t seem to believe she was really and truly gone.

  Somewhere throughout the ages he’d heard about a species of bird that mated for life. If one of the pair was killed and their body left to rot, the other bird would inevitably come to it, day after day, trying to revive its mate.

  He was that idiot bird. Not knowing when to quit. Not believing he could.

  Andre’s eyes flashed. He might be that stupid bird, but he was also a vampire; he could revive her. But her injuries …

  Don’t think about it.

  His eyes moved to the dagger still in her heart. He grasped the hilt and pulled it out, grimacing at the sucking noise the flesh made as it released the weapon. Déjà vu washed over him. He’d done the same thing only months before, when another dagger had missed Gabrielle’s heart and embedded itself into her shoulder.

  She’d recover like last time. She must. He had to believe this, or else he wouldn’t survive this night.

  He bit his wrist and held it to her lips. Only a couple drops of blood dripped into her parted lips before the wound stitched itself back together. That wouldn’t do.

  Someone stepped away from the huddled group. Andre gave the figure a sparing glance and growled low in his throat. The individual was shaking their head, their lips moving.

  “They come any closer, you shoot them, Oliver,” Andre said, nodding to the being. He couldn’t see or hear the fairy’s reaction, so he could only hope Oliver didn’t choke up.

  Andre still held the ceremonial dagger in his hand. The weapon meant to kill Gabrielle would now coax her back to life. He slashed the knife down his forearm. Blood gushed out from his wound, and he tilted is arm so that the rivulet of blood dripped into her mouth.

  The cloaked figure blurred, and then they stood right before Andre. His lips drew back and he bared his fangs and growled low.

  This filthy murderer dared to interrupt him?

  Over the music, he heard the sound of a gunshot. The being in front of Andre didn’t flinch, but someone in the clustered group staggered and then fell.

  At least the fairy had hit something.

  The being in front of Andre grabbed his wrist and yanked him away from Gabrielle. He stumbled from the force of their strength, and he howled in outrage.

  The ground beneath them shook as Andre’s closed fist snapped out and connected with flesh. The figure’s hold on him loosened.

  Save your soulmate, his instinct screamed at him

  Andre threw another punch—one powerful enough to snap a person’s neck—and jerked his arm from the being’s grasp.

  He ran back to the altar, dust and dirt sprinkling him from above. At the back of the room, another cloaked figure was inching forward. If they tried to escape, more would follow.

  Not acceptable.

  In one fluid movement Andre pulled a throwing knife from its sheath, aimed, and released it. He didn’t have to look to know it sliced open the individual’s throat. They’d bleed to death i
n a matter of minutes and join the other bodies scattered around them.

  Turning his attention to Gabrielle, Andre grabbed the ceremonial knife once more. He opened another vein and let his blood trickle across Gabrielle’s lips. Need to revive her.

  And again that same annoying being yanked him away from Gabrielle too soon. He roared his rage. Around him the ground shook violently and the walls lurched. Some of the remaining cloaked figures grabbed for the wall while others fell.

  Slowly Andre turned to face the cloaked figure, his hair beginning to lift. Never had he encountered a being that could deter him whilst he was on the edge of that mindless rage, and he could only think of one supernatural capable of that show of strength.

  A deity.

  “Ah, here we are.” The devil gestured to a grand dining hall. He tugged on my hand, the action unsettlingly gentle.

  Morta’s words ran through my head again. I wondered if my perception had changed his behavior, or if his behavior was changing my perception. I rubbed my head.

  “The dead don’t get headaches in hell, consort.”

  When I dropped my hand, the devil gazed at me with open curiosity.

  Stop being so nice to me. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I refrained from saying the words because I knew that in response he’d say, okay, and then proceed to beat the living daylights out of me. Even if he was trying a different angle with me, he was still the devil.

  The devil raised an eyebrow at me, as though he’d listened in on my thoughts, and a sly smile blossomed along his face.

  I ignored him and glanced around me. “My wedding present is … the dining room?”

  The grin on his face grew. “Not quite.” He released my hand and approached the dining room table. On it was a single object, a chalice made of gold and decorated with precious jewels. Something about it had me stepping forward.