Cursed (3 page)

As he closed his eyes and wished for the bliss of unconsciousness, he was only vaguely aware of the cafe patrons screeching and clambering around him. Amazingly, none of them fell over his prone body in their haste to avoid the spraying liquid, which they had only now realised was blood.

A fact for which he was supremely grateful.

After a few minutes, he heard the sound of shoes scraping the pavement beside his ear and opened his eyes a fraction, squinting against the glare of the bright blue sky. Knox was grinning down at him, the skin around his mouth smeared with blood and an unholy gleam shining in his black eyes.

Weren’t they green before?

“Well, that was fun,” Knox said cheerfully. “Thanks for the pre-emptive strike. I don’t think they’ll underestimate a pre-trans again anytime soon.”

There was that word again. Jacob closed his eyes again and wished for Knox to go away. He was too tired for this.

“Come on. I’ll help you up.”

Heaving a sigh, Jacob raised his arm and felt a strong hand grip his wrist and pull. He was upright in a blink and weaving from the shock of it. Okay, maybe there was a little bit of supernatural strength there—or maybe loss of blood had made him lighter.

Opening his eyes, he saw that Knox was looking at his neck in sympathy. The guy met his gaze and said in all seriousness, “Hold very still.”

Jacob was too tired to do otherwise, even when the guy stepped into his personal space, leaned in with a tilted head, and started licking.

Okay, ick. He stood it for a moment and then made to pull away, but a warning growl from Knox froze him solid. After another moment, the blonde took a step back and wiped his mouth with a napkin that he must have picked up from one of the tables.

The male looked at him strangely and then shook his head, saying, “You’re so close to transition I’m amazed you can still stand.”

Raising his hand to his neck, Jacob filed the comment away for the moment, focusing instead on the realisation that Knox’s licking had somehow healed his wound. He felt like he’d just slipped into an alternate dimension.

Was it really possible that these guys
were
vampires? Albeit, a very different kind than was usually portrayed in the movies? Ones who could go out in the daylight, weren’t that different strength-wise than a regular human, and could somehow heal a wound just by licking it? Oh, and don’t forget the fact that they seemed to be invisible. What the hell was up with that?

He shook his head. It was all too much. He really just wanted to lie down and sleep for a week. Instead, he glanced around at the expected carnage, only to find nothing but a spray of blood on the concrete and a few of the tables nearby. No enemy vampires left to clean up—and, even more surprising—the cafe’s patrons seemed to have gotten over the fact that blood had rained down upon them and were back to reading or chatting like nothing had ever happened.

He would have asked what the hell was going on, but didn’t really have the energy to hear the answer. Instead, he asked, “Where did Bartlett and his buddies go?”

“They hobbled off after I ripped into Bart’s throat,” Knox replied cheerfully. “We drained Felix and James pretty effectively, so they knew it was time to book.”

Right. Drained. Awesome.
Vampires were real—or he was losing his marbles. Maybe the fever had him hallucinating. Yeah, that must be it. Might as well talk to his hallucination and find out if these vampires had super-healing.

“Won’t that Bart guy need a hospital?”

The other vampire snorted a laugh and said, “Nah, they’re usually pretty quick at patching each other up. One of his goons will seal the wound for him before he’s too far gone.”

Oh, that’s right. Licking a wound healed it. How could he have forgotten so soon? He was definitely hallucinating.

“So, you guys are vampires, then?” he asked, for want of anything better to say.

“You really have to ask?”

He shrugged and swayed as dizziness hit him.

“What’s your name?” Knox asked, guiding him to a chair so he could sit down.

He didn’t really see any reason not to tell his hallucination his name, even though, being a hallucination, he should have known already. “Jacob.”

“Surname?”

“Greyson.”

There was a long silence. When he looked up into Knox’s eyes, which he idly noticed were green once more, the male was shaking his head in amusement.

“Never in a million years would I have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it with mine own eyes.” The guy looked at him for a moment longer and then threw a smile back over his shoulder at his ‘son’.

“I still can’t believe it,” Lucas replied wryly.

As Knox pulled a phone out of his pocket and played with it, Lucas’s head twitched around, eyes bright as he surveyed the scene. When he noticed Jacob looking at him, he grinned, revealing those super-white, super-sharp incisors that looked like something from a movie.

“You’re a lucky male, Jacob,” he said. “If you’d gone through your transition without help... You’re a lucky male.”

Jacob looked up at the brunette and tried to work out what the guy was saying. It took him a while, seeing as his head was full of cotton wool, but he eventually struck upon the idea that Lucas seemed to think he was about to turn into something—maybe a vampire—like them (if they really were vampires and not hallucinations).

Which was utterly ridiculous. It wasn’t like he’d drunk any vampire blood at all in his twenty-four years of life, so how could that happen?

“Look, dude. I think you have me confused with someone else,” he said, shaking his head.

Lucas smiled slightly, like he knew what Jacob was thinking, but didn’t argue with him.

Knox snapped his fingers suddenly, demanding Jacob’s attention. “Where do you live?”

Yeah, sure. He was going to tell a bunch of vampires where he lived. Not fucking likely.

“You’ve been sick lately, haven’t you?” the vampire said, more a statement than a question. Not that it would have taken a genius to work that out—all you had to do was look at Jacob and you knew he was sick. “Fever, sweats, nausea, aching muscles. Like the worst flu you’ve ever had that just won’t go away. And you’re so damn tired you can barely think straight, and believe me, I know what that’s like—I’ve been there myself; as has Lucas. So you can trust me when I tell you that that’s not even the half of it. Things are about to get a whole lot worse and we’re the only ones who can help you.”

He wanted to tell the blonde to fuck off, he really did, but there was just something in Knox’s expression that gave him second thoughts.

“Look, Jacob,” Knox said, expression softening, “I know this is a lot to take in, but you are not imagining things. We
are
vampires. We
are
invisible to the human race.” Oh, good, he wasn’t insane. “The fact that you can see us when everyone else here is oblivious should tell you that you are different. You are the son of a vampire, and, from the taste of your blood, you are about to transition into one very soon. Frankly, I’m surprised it’s not happening right now, you’re that close. There is no time to think about this. We need to get you home; we need to get you safe. Now, where do you live?”

*  *  *

Greyvian appreciated big cities. He couldn’t exactly say that he liked them because he couldn’t say he particularly liked anything, but he definitely appreciated them. They were filled with people of all shapes and sizes, gender, religions, and cultures: plenty of population for a vampire to choose from—if you were a regular Hollywood vampire, that is. If, however, you were a vampire with Greyvian’s particular requirements, it contained just enough population to keep him from total starvation.

His last meal had been well over a week ago and he could feel the desire for blood growing ever stronger with each passing hour. It was nowhere near the kind of desperate hunger he was well acquainted with, but the urge was there, and he knew he should service it before the choice of victim was denied him. The problem with being so fastidious, however, was that his particular brand of donor could be hard to come by.

He’d been leaning against the rough brick of an unremarkable building in the busiest part of the city for more time than he’d care to admit now, and he still had yet to get the faintest trace of anyone suitable, even though there had been a steady stream of humans passing by the entire time. Some days were better than others. If he were really fortunate, he’d find someone before he even really started to look. Other days, like today, he could stand for hours, with nothing.

Not that he really minded one way or another. There was nothing and no-one in his life that required his attention on most days of the week. Not that he cared about that either. In fact, over the past century, he’d cared less and less about most aspects of life—

A sudden buzzing vibration against his right buttock brought his vision sharply into focus. Dipping his hand into his pocket, he extracted his phone and checked the screen. As if the male had heard the direction of his thoughts, there was a text with an address, followed by an exclamation point. He didn’t need to check the number to know who it was from. Only one male ever texted him in that manner, so he knew exactly what it meant. It was the only thing that was guaranteed to get him out of bed in the morning. The only responsibility he had in life. His only purpose for living, if you will.

While it wasn’t ideal that he would be going to the provided address feeling peckish, neither was it a major concern. He would just have to find someone quickly after the fact. Nevertheless, he kept his senses sharp in case he came across someone on the way to the apartment.

2

The store was quiet today, but being just after lunch and mid-week Sienna wasn’t surprised. Still, it gave her way too much time to worry about Jacob. It wasn’t like him to get so sick; certainly not one flu following another like this. She couldn’t ever remember him getting anything more major than the common cold since she’d known him, but she supposed there was a first time for everything. She would have felt more comfortable with it if he’d gone to the doctor—just to be sure—but you couldn’t force the man to do anything he didn’t want to do. Stubborn bastard.

Like getting him to stay home when he was sick. She could well imagine him walking down the street, delirious with fever, wandering out onto the road and getting hit by a car. Her vivid imagination on the subject had made her lose count of the number of skirts in stock more than once over the past half hour.

With a disgusted sigh, she finally tossed the pile onto the counter and told Carly, her very capable assistant manager, that she was going home to make sure Jacob wasn’t about to lapse into a coma or die of dehydration or anything. Normally she would have left him to his misery, but this flu felt different to her for some reason.

“Sure, you go home to that spunk of a flatmate,” the redhead said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, “I’ll be absolutely fine here.”

Sienna rolled her eyes in amusement and bent down to collect her bag from behind the counter, her long dark hair making it difficult to see what she was doing. Wondering idly if she should get it cut, she felt around for her bag and said, “I keep telling you, Carly. We’re just friends. That’s it. That’s all it’s ever been and ever will be. It’s just not like that.”

“Ya-ha. I believe you.”

Grabbing the strap of her bag, she straightened and slung it over her shoulder, noticing the look Carly gave her that said she clearly didn’t.

“Seriously, we’ve known each other since we were kids. If anything were going to develop, it would have done so by now.”

Carly looked at her thoughtfully for a long minute, tracing circles on the glass counter with her finger as Sienna had come to realise she did whenever the redhead was thinking about a male. “Really? Cause he’s fuckin hot. Like, push-your-grandmother-down-the-stairs-to-get-to-him-faster kind of hot, if you know what I mean.”

Sienna smiled ruefully, “Yes, I’m well aware of how attractive he is—I just don’t feel that way about him.”

“Are you gay?” Carly asked, looking her over speculatively.

Sienna shook her head in resignation. “I think you know me better than to ask that.”

The redhead shrugged and stopped her finger swirling to rest her chin on her hand. “I’m just sayin’. Maybe you are and you’re in denial. I mean, if you can’t find Jacob lust-worthy, then there’s gotta be something wrong with you.” Carly’s eyes widened and she sat up straight, her hand dropping to the counter with the metal clatter of bracelets hitting glass. “Unless you’re saying something’s wrong with him. Is he gay?”

Seriously, what was the girl’s obsession with homosexuality?

“No, he’s not gay, and even if he were, that wouldn’t stop me from being attracted to him—if I was attracted to him.” Sienna’s head hurt suddenly and she tried to think of a better way to explain it. Suddenly it struck her. “Think of him as my brother, because that’s the way I feel about him.”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you just say that? I can totally relate to that. I mean, my brother is fuckin hot, but I totally don’t want to screw him.” The look on her face told Sienna that despite what the redhead said, she might actually be entertaining the idea.

“Goodbye, Carly,” Sienna said, realising this conversation was going nowhere fast. “Thanks for closing up.”

“Yeah, sure! Anytime.”

The girl might sound like a complete airhead when she talked, but she really was a capable assistant—and she could pick the next season’s popular styles with an ability that had Sienna completely baffled.

The walk back to the apartment only took around five minutes, so she took the stairs to get a bit more exercise into her day. Jacob probably wouldn’t be home yet anyway, so there was no rush, and the exercise
was
needed; but in truth, she really just loved the building she lived in, stairwells included, and liked to linger on her way up. It was ultra-modern, open and airy, with interesting artwork on every floor—courtesy of the fitness fanatic and resident artist who lived in the penthouse. At every landing, she had something to admire. Two hundred and forty steps (she’d counted them before) and she was standing in front of her apartment door.

Living so close to work was awesome.

The trust fund her parents had left her and the profit from her business meant that she could have afforded it even if she didn’t live with Jacob, but she liked living with her best friend and couldn’t imagine it any other way. The two of them had been fast friends since the age of ten when Sienna had come out into the playground during lunch to find him scuffling with a couple of the richer boys in school. He’d been unused to fighting at that age and had received more punches than he’d thrown, but he’d handled it really well. He never showed any fear or weakness and after every hit to the ground, he’d gotten up and asked for more punishment.

She’d thought he was nuts at the time but had known better than to interfere. She’d tried that once with another boy and it hadn’t gone well. The kid had been upset that she’d made him look like a wimp who needed to be saved by a girl. He’d had a point, because the bullies had added that to their arsenal the next time they picked on him. So she’d stood on the sidelines along with all the other kids who were cheering the fight on, and was then the only one to offer Jacob comfort and support once it was all over.

She could still remember the deep feeling of connection she’d had when they’d looked into each other’s eyes for the first time. It was like they knew each other already. They hadn’t been apart longer than a few days at a time since then. When they were, a part of her felt anxious and restless until she saw him again. It was a damn shame she wasn’t attracted to him at all. They would have made a great couple.

Remembering the time they’d tried kissing each other, right around her eighteenth birthday, she smiled and unlocked the deadbolt on the door to the apartment, the key sliding in and turning without issue. Neither of them had felt a damn thing. No tingling awareness, no heightened libido. She couldn’t understand it, personally. He was everything she could have wanted in a partner, but he did absolutely nothing for her sexually. Some people might say to hell with it—fake it ‘til you make it—but that wasn’t her. She wanted someone she could be in utter lust with, even if it didn’t turn out to be love, and wanted to stay open for the possibility.

Applying a little downward force to the door handle, she smiled slightly and gave a mental ‘thanks’ to Jacob for installing the thing as she pushed the door open with ease. It was one of those helpful, straight bar types that meant you didn’t have to twist your whole body around to release the latch—insanely useful when you were loaded down with shopping.  

He was such a handy guy to have around.

Stepping inside the apartment, she did her usual routine of turning to the right, dropping her bag and keys on the little table beside the door, whilst simultaneously kicking the door shut behind her, then twisted the lock back into place. The weather was warm, so she didn’t need to take a jacket off like she would in winter.

It was only when she’d finished that the sensation of being watched caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise.

Heart pounding into overdrive, she flicked her eyes to the left and saw a dark figure about ten feet away, standing in the middle of her small, but comfortable, open-plan living space. Her head slowly followed the direction of her gaze.

For a split second as she met the man’s eyes, she thought it was Jacob, only with longer, darker hair; the resemblance to her friend was that strong. But then she looked over the rest of him and saw some distinct differences.

Like, instead of a nose that had a little kink in it from being broken a time or two, this guy’s was absolutely straight. Jacob had a generous mouth, both top and bottom, but this guy’s bottom lip was definitely fuller than the top. Their jaws were of the same cut, and they looked to be the same height and general build—broad shoulders, slim waist, fit looking (although this guy seemed to be packing a bit more muscle than Jacob)—but their sense of style was completely different. Jacob was a casual kind of guy, wearing jeans, or khakis, and a t-shirt more often than not, and this guy was a Goth God.

Move over Keanu Reeves
, she thought with an inner grin,
this guy is totally rocking the Matrix outfit.

Since that movie, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a guy wear black leather pants and shit-kicker boots in an effort to look like Neo without looking like a total tool, but there was one other difference between her best friend and this guy that struck her right away.

The man had presence. It was wild and untamed—and sexy as hell. Her heart started somersaulting the moment she spotted him and it wasn’t from fright.

“Uh, hi,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound like a complete moron.

His eyebrows twitched slightly into a frown and his gaze flicked over her shoulder at the closed door, like he expected someone else to come through. The change in expression was as quick as his glance however, because when he looked back into her eyes, his features were neutral once more. There was a long moment of silence. So long, she thought he hadn’t heard her. But then he spoke. His voice, when he replied, was utterly neutral, matching his expression to a tee; neither one of them gave a thing away. “Hello.”

She gave him another once over as she took, what she hoped, was a casual step closer, even though a part of her felt like maybe she should be taking a step back (and then out the door). The body-hugging black t-shirt that he wore did wonders for his tan and outlined a delicious amount of his muscular form. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of fat on the guy.

He must spend hours in the gym
, she thought idly.

“Jacob around?” she asked, wondering where her best friend was hiding. She would love an introduction.

“He’ll be along shortly,” the stranger replied after a moment. His accent had a slight hint of the European about it; German, perhaps? She wasn’t a linguist, so she couldn’t say for sure.

She nodded in response and then had a thought. “If he’s not here, how’d you get in?”

He said nothing and his blank expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Okay, be mysterious why don’t you.

“Did he give you his key?” she asked, looking into those familiar grey eyes and marvelling at the similarities.

The hunk didn’t reply.

He definitely had to be related to Jacob. The similarities were just too striking. He looked a year or two older than her best friend, so he had to be a long lost older brother, or maybe they were twins separated at birth? She was going to kill Jacob for not telling her about this!

“How far behind is he?”

Tall, Dark & Dangerous lifted his right shoulder in a careless shrug, and said, “Five minutes.”

She laughed shortly and shook her head. “Not a man of many words, are you?”

He continued to look at her, not moving at all, no expression crossing his face, his eyes the only thing that changed position as they tracked her as she took a few steps towards him. Okay, so he wasn’t a great conversationalist, she could accept that. There were many other things she could think of to do with a mouth like his.

Man, that full bottom lip was a thing of beauty.

If it hadn’t been for the obvious resemblance to her best friend, she probably would have shown a lot more caution towards him than she did. She probably would have put more effort into finding out why he was there, how he had gotten in, and why he wasn’t saying very much. If she had had any idea what was about to happen, she certainly wouldn’t have stuck her hand out for him to shake.

Or maybe she would have?

“Sienna. Hi. You are?”

He looked down at her hand for a moment and then back up into her eyes.

“I’m Jacob’s best friend,” she said, still holding her hand out, eager to feel his touch. “How long have you known him?”

Nothing. This was getting just a bit ridiculous. Yes, the guy was sexy as hell, but it was like talking to a cardboard cut-out. If it hadn’t been for the watchful intelligence in his eyes, she would have thought him slow.

She was just about to give up and drop her hand, when quicker than she could have ever imagined, his cool palm slapped onto her wrist and his long fingers wrapped around it firmly, holding it there.

He has really nice hands
, she noted as she looked down at the grip.
Strong. Manly.
Veiny
. An image of those hands cupping her breasts had a shot of lust raising her core temperature a notch or two.

Looking up into his eyes, she waited for him to make the next move.

Instead of pulling her into his embrace like she fantasised that he would, his nostrils flared and he drew in a deep breath, his eyelids sliding closed over the light grey of his eyes like he’d caught the scent of something delicious. A small sigh escaped his lips and he shuddered.