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Authors: Lizzy Ford

Cursed (28 page)

BOOK: Cursed
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“We think the two lovers were separated, but both their bloodlines suffered from the jinx, which could’ve spanned about four hundred years. If true, Marie believes your family’s penance should’ve ended with the death of your sister. It didn’t, if you’re marked. It’s spreading instead.”

“Why?”

“Not sure.” Candace shrugged. “We need the third piece of the lullaby, the part that discusses what happens if the curse is not carried out. We think there might be information about a prophecy connected to the curse. I’m not even certain how this fits into it.” She motioned to the stack of papers. “Your sister found something.”

“How to break it?”

“Maybe. Or maybe how to evade it. This … song, if that’s what it is, could be very dangerous, Adrienne.”

“Therese wouldn’t want me to find it, if so.”

“What makes you think she wanted anyone to find it? That it’s not a demonic spirit trying to trick you?”

“She told me.”

Candace was silent.

Adrienne glanced up and saw the surprise on her face.

“I forgot to tell you about the stickies,” she said. She put her pen down and pulled out the iPad, to the notes she’d made of the sticky note mysteries. She handed it to Candace. Candace read them aloud.

 

“I’m glad you’re here.

Be careful. He is coming.

Keep the journal safe.

Free us. Find the key.

Get my journal back.

You must sing.”

 

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Adrienne said. “Except each note is written in a different person’s handwriting and none of them are Therese’s.”

Rene stood fast enough to knock his chair over. He left quickly, startling both of them. Adrienne stared after him then shook her head, assuming the gang member was having one of his moods.

“What do you think?” Adrienne asked.

“I think something else is going on here. It’s not unheard of for a
mambos
or
houngan
to write or speak in tongues when the spirits take them. Different handwriting would indicate different people were possessed. But six notes all for you, by six people … someone is trying to talk to you. Your sister or someone else with an interest in you and her fate,” Candace said slowly. “I’ve never seen this level of persistence.”

“There’s a very important reason behind all this,” Adrienne said matter-of-factly. “I know it. Now that I know what this writing is, I can piece together the music.”

“To do what?”

“Sing it. I mean, Therese and I both sing. Maybe that’s the key to freeing her. Somehow.”

“Freeing her from what?”

Adrienne shrugged. “First, I need my voice back.” She sighed.

“That could take a while,” Candace said. “If it comes back at all.”

“You think I should go back to school and confront Kimmie.”

“I think that is the quickest and best solution. She can help you get it back.”

Adrienne bit her lower lip, disturbed by the idea of facing the entire school.

Jayden wanted her to stay. He’d made that much clear.

“Candace, why didn’t you tell me you were dating my daddy? Did you know that when Rene brought me here?”

“I knew when I saw you. Your daddy is very proud of his girls. He showed me pictures,” Candace said, smiling. “I’m sorry, Adrienne. I wanted things to unfold at their own pace.”

“It hasn’t been an easy move,” Adrienne murmured. “I miss my friends and school, and I’m trying to find out what happened to Therese, because … ” She stopped.

“You’re afraid it’ll happen to you.”

Adrienne nodded.

“It’s a lot to deal with for someone your age.” Candace said. “I’ll talk to Marie Toussaint again this weekend and do some more research. Try out another week of school and focus on healing your voice and figuring out this song. We’ll meet here next weekend and figure out what our next steps are. Does that sound okay?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Unconvinced about school, Adrienne knew she at least needed time to write out all the notes of the song.

Candace wasn’t wrong about asking Kimmie to drop the curse, either. Adrienne wouldn’t be able to do it, if she wasn’t at school.

“I’m going home,” she decided. “I’m taking these, okay?” She picked up the papers.

“Of course. You should wait for Rene, though.”

“It’s the middle of the day. I’ll be fine,” Adrienne replied, tired of being treated like a kid. She was capable of walking home by herself, if not figuring out her sister’s clues. She tucked the papers into her bag then stood. “I’ll see you later, Candace.”

“Take my card. If you need anything, call.” Candace handed her a gray business card.

Adrienne tucked it into the front pocket of her bag. She left the café and glanced up at the sky. It looked and smelled like more rain was coming, but the clouds were holding their downpour for now.

She started down the street, reviewing her day mentally. It started out as miserable with the rain, work and too painful memories of the day before.

Jayden managed to change all that. No matter how confused she felt about him, she could appreciate seeing him sit in the psychic’s waiting room all day, waiting for her to give him a chance to say his piece.

She touched the dog tags at her neck. Maybe he was confused, too, but he’d given her a gift of great personal significance. That had to count for something, right?

She half expected Rene to appear to escort her and was pleased that he didn’t. She kept to the sidewalks and avoided the alleys, knowing he was probably the only one willing to help her out, if she ran into his gang.

The rain started the moment after she stepped into the lobby of her daddy’s apartment building. It smelled like bleach, a sign the ancient caretaker had mopped at some point this afternoon. She went up to her floor and walked into the apartment.

Deep in thought, she tugged off her cross-body bag and dropped it on the kitchen table then stuck a cup with water in the microwave for tea.

The sound of the floor creaking beneath someone’s feet caught her attention. It came from the direction of the hallway leading to the apartment’s two bedrooms.

“Daddy?” she called.

No answer.

Brow furrowed, Adrienne walked down the hall, pausing to peek into the living room. It was quiet, the television off. She went to her daddy’s room. His door was open, the bed unmade, as usual. He wasn’t there.

The creaking came again. From her room.

She tiptoed the rest of the way down the hall to her doorway and froze.

Someone was in her room. A woman in jeans and t-shirt, tall with dark hair and pale skin.

“Who are you?” Adrienne demanded.

The woman turned. Her eyes were a bright shade of blue, her features pretty. She didn’t seem surprised, as if expecting to be discovered. She cocked her head to the side, blue eyes sweeping over Adrienne curiously.

The strange sense of standing close to Jax returned, as if this woman wasn’t completely … natural. The hair on Adrienne’s arms rose, and her pulse flew. It took every piece of her will power not to run.

A sticky note was on Adrienne’s nightstand.

The woman’s gaze followed hers, resting on the yellow square.

Adrienne studied the woman again, noticing the sweat dripping down the side of her face and the clammy sheen of her skin. The woman appeared to be under some sort of strain. She weaved as she stood, and there was tightness around her eyes and lips. Her clothing was rumpled, dirt along one leg of the pants.

Was she diseased? Sick? Crazy?

Moving back into the hallway, Adrienne silently thanked her daddy for paying the phone bill, so she could call the police.

“Don’t run, Adrienne,” the woman said, her attention slowly shifting back to her. “Please. Just let me talk to you.”

“You know who I am.” Adrienne’s panic grew too strong for her to contain.

She wasn’t calling the police – she was getting the hell out of there! She turned to dart down the hallway towards the door.

The woman was at the other end of the hallway.

Adrienne froze, her body aching with the tension of her muscles.

“Please,” the woman said again. “I don’t have much time or … ” She wobbled and caught herself against the wall.

Adrienne backed away. A frantic glance into her room revealed it was empty. Her breathing was fast enough that her ears were starting to buzz and tunnel vision formed. With her escape route and ability to reach the phone blocked, Adrienne sank against a wall, shaking.

The woman knelt as well, even paler.

Adrienne closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on her breathing, terrified of what might happen if she passed out. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she struggled to control her body’s frantic response to finding a stranger in her house. After a moment, the dizzy spell passed, and she forced herself to focus.

The woman was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Her breathing was rough and quick.

“What do you want?” Adrienne managed.

“I brought you a … note.” She pointed with a quaking hand towards the bedroom.

With effort, Adrienne pushed herself up and went to her room. She picked up the sticky note on her nightstand.

“It’s blank,” she said, confused.

“I know,” the woman said from the hallway.

Curiosity got the better of her. Adrienne went to the doorway of her room, feeling somewhat safe knowing she could close the door and hide, if need be.

“I didn’t have time to write it,” the woman admitted.

“What should it say?”

“Help Jax.”

“What? Why?” Adrienne asked. “Omigod! Is he the man in red?” As soon as she asked the question, she realized it was stupid to ask a stranger about something from her sister’s journal.

“No,” the woman said. “He’s lost his way.”

The woman appeared to be growing weaker in front of Adrienne.

“Who are you?” she asked again.

The woman laughed, a husky, strained sound. “I don’t even know.” She drew a deep breath then pushed herself up to her feet.

“You came here to my home to tell me to help Jax. Did you write the other notes?”

“Yes and no.” The woman took a step towards her.

Adrienne shrank away, recalling what Candace said about the possibility that a spirit possessing different people had written the notes. This woman didn’t know who she was. Was she under the influence of a spirit?

“I wrote the warnings. Not the notes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will. Just … you have to sing, Adrienne. You have to. Soon.” Her voice was growing faint, more strained.

Adrienne didn’t know what to say.

The stranger smiled then turned and started towards the door.

“Wait!” Adrienne cried, forcing herself forward. “I have so many questions! What does the song mean or do or …”

“Sing, sweet Addy. Sing.”

“Please wait! Tell me what this veve means!” Adrienne ducked into her room and wrenched open the nightstand, where she kept the other sticky notes and the drawing she’d traced of the Red Man’s veve.

When she returned to the hallway, the woman was gone.

With some apprehension, Adrienne ventured away from the safety of her room. She peeked into her daddy’s bedroom once more and the living room then the kitchen.

“Hello?” she whispered.

The door was locked from the inside, and the woman gone.

Shaking, Adrienne sat down numbly on the couch, unable to explain what just happened. Had she just met a possessed woman? If so, whose spirit was inside her?

I wrote the warnings. Not the notes.

Adrienne didn’t let herself consider the possibility she’d just run into her dead sister’s spirit in a new body. After minutes of furiously searching her mind for a different explanation, she finally relented and gave the idea a full minute of thought.

It scared her, but it was possible.

Adrienne grabbed a pen from the coffee table. She wrote the woman’s warning on the sticky note.

 

Help Jax.

 

Two people thought he’d lost his way, and Adrienne didn’t understand what that meant or what it had to do with her.

Afraid to be alone in her own home, she grabbed her bag and left, too rattled to sit and think in the silent apartment. She didn’t go far, but curled into one of the faded, old chairs in the lobby. The in and out of residents and weekend visitors soon eased her fear and tension. She watched for a while, unable to digest completely what happened.

A strange woman who knew her randomly appeared in her apartment with a message. Then disappeared, after alluding to the idea she might be Therese.

Why didn’t she come out and say so, if she was? Had Adrienne missed her chance to ask her sister directly what was going on? What happened to her?

What if this was the only chance she’d ever get to ask and she blew it?

BOOK: Cursed
2.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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