Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) (12 page)

“Fine,”
she said, stepping away from him.

He
wasn’t even fazed by the rebuff.

“You
can’t be afraid of the ball,” he said, picking it up off the ground. He
dribbled up beside her, threading the basketball between his legs. She was
trying to follow his movements, and when she wasn’t expecting it, he curled the
ball under his wrist and faked her out like he was going to smack her in the
face with it. Aria flinched, clenching her eyes shut as he swept around her and
took a clear shot.

“That was mean,” she accused, gripping her upper arms and
scowling at the blacktop. She
really didn’t like that he’d purposefully scared her like that, and she hated
how foolish she felt now.

“I
know,” he said slowly, feeling just a twinge of guilt. “You should have seen
the first time someone did that to me. If there had been a snap shot, it would
have looked like I was riding a rollercoaster.” He made a comical face to
emphasize his point and that earned him a giggle.

Ariahna took the ball up top, moving carefully around the
court so she wouldn’t lose it.
She was starting to
really
feel him behind her. He even had a palm
pressed to her lower back.

“Are
you always this handsy?” she squeaked.

“I could show you handsy,” he said, whispering the words
against the back of her neck. He
didn’t have to look to know she was blushing. Taking her here was quite
possibly the best idea he’d ever had.

While
he was distracted pressing himself against her back, she spun around his side
and ran up to the hoop. The net jangled and she threw her hands into the air
triumphantly. “That’s right. Who scored? I did,” she said, pointing to herself
and dancing to celebrate her victory.

Christian
found himself smiling at her, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “You’re
cute,” he grinned, closing the space between them.

Aria
backed up against the metal pole as Christian advanced on her. He was giving
her that look again—that intense, intimidating look. It was the same way Rome
had looked at her right before he’d—

Oh
no
, she thought.

“Christian…”

“That’s
my name,” he smirked. “And you can say it as often, and as loud as you want.”
She blinked at him as an attractive blush settled over her cheeks. “You’re even
cuter when you’re embarrassed,” he whispered, pressing against her. His hand
curled around her jaw, tilting her chin up as he brushed his thumb over her
lips. They parted at the touch, and her tongue darted out to moisten them.
“Mm,” he breathed. He was having lewd thoughts about that tongue
and the places he’d like her to put it. He leaned
in until he was only a
breath away, whispering against her lips, “Kiss
me.”

A
strange sensation trickled down Christian’s spine. It was as if he
could feel her body vibrating with nervous energy.
He had never felt
anything like it. It left him shivering. Her lips
touched his and a spark shot through him. If this was what kissing was supposed
to feel like, he must have been doing it wrong all this time.

 A
cool breeze rushed by, raising goosebumps on Aria’s skin. She was still pressed
between the cold metal and the scalding hot contours of Christian’s body. She
didn’t know how, or when, his hand had wandered up her shirt, but the strong
grip of his palm over her breast was driving her crazy. Heat pooled low in her belly
as he grinded her back against the pole. The hard bulge in his pants had her
terrified, and so turned on that she was panting hotly into his mouth.

A
sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the harsh sound of belligerent male
laughter. Aria pulled away from Christian’s mouth with a startled breath. She
glanced over her shoulder, peering into the darkness. A group of guys was
ambling towards them. They were acting rather rowdy and uninhibited as they
drifted through the small playground and onto the concrete. As they got closer,
the familiar stench of alcohol stung her nose.

“Son
of a bitch,” Christian mumbled. “Time to go.”

He
reached for her hand and two of the guys ran up on them, shoving him back and
nearly knocking him on his ass.

“Why
don’t you come play with us?” one of them said, circling around her and tugging
her roughly against his chest. He caressed the side of her face and she
cringed. “We can teach you a few tricks,” he slurred.

“Yeah,
we got plenty of balls for you to play with,” the other laughed thickly. He
snagged a handful of her hair, ripping her head back as she let out a startled
cry. “Aw, I think she’s scared of us.”

“Hey!”
Christian yelled. “Get away from her!” He surged forward,
and the guy whirled around, slapping his hands
against his chest and
grabbing him by the shirt. He tossed him
backwards, and Christian went stumbling into a third, towering man. They batted
him back and forth like a hacky sack, cackling at the hard-on he had in his
pants.

“Hey
man, I don’t think he knows what to do with himself.”

“Maybe
we need to show him how to stick it to her,” the bigger one snickered. He
looked over at the guy who’d snatched Aria as he pressed her into him at the
waist and swayed around in a drunken circle.

“I’ve
got all the best dance moves, baby,” he breathed.

Ariahna recoiled, choking on the smell of tequila on his
breath.
Every muscle
in her body was tense as she tried to push him away.

“My
father’s a cop,” she threatened weakly.

“Kinky,
girl,” he laughed, groping at her ass. “Maybe he’ll let us borrow his
handcuffs.”

She slipped one of her arms free from his crushing hug,
winding
back and
striking him across the face with as much force as possible.

“Fucking
bitch!” he howled, clutching his jaw furiously.

She
slipped out of his arms and made a mad dash for the parking lot. The man lunged
at her with a yell, and they went tumbling down. Jagged pavement scraped
against her skin, and she cried out in the struggle. He held her down, ripping
at the button of her jeans as she clawed at his hands. A shrill scream tore
from her throat, leaving her lungs burning and heavy.
“Stop!” she pleaded. “Stop!”
Her
knee slammed into his groin, and t
he
frigid touch of his fingers
and the weight of his body vanished.

Aria
scrambled away, eyes clamped shut and blood thundering in her ears. She didn’t
want to see what was happening. She was too busy trying to catch her breath and
slow the panicked rhythm of her heart. She couldn’t run
away. She was paralyzed with fear, immobilized by her anxiety. And
the most helpless thought was in knowing that at any moment he was going to
reach out and grab her. He was going to curl his cold fingers around her skin,
and she’d be powerless to stop it
.

Chapter 10

Rome
crept down the bumpy lane towards the cemetery on the far side of town, parking
his car behind an old maple tree. He turned his key back in the ignition,
staring out at the iron fence. Large, arching letters swept over the gate,
reading:
East Hill Cemetery
. He could feel the chill in the air as it
moved past his open window, ghosting over his skin.

“Picking
out a plot?” Kaleb quipped.

“No,”
Rome whispered, swinging his door wide and stepping out. “You can come with me
if you want. Just… be respectful.”

“Respectful
of what? Why are we even at a cemetery?”

“
We
are here because you insisted on following me, and you refused to get out of my
car.”

The
gate creaked as Rome pushed it open just enough to slip past the chain holding
it closed. The metal was so cold against his fingertips it felt wet. A winding
stone path carried them into the reaching darkness.

He
hadn’t been to visit his mother since the beginning of summer. He didn’t get
many chances to come see her, but when he did, he’d stay out all night, usually
until sunrise. “What do you think happens when you die?” he asked, looking up
at Kaleb out of the corner of his eye.

Kaleb
stared uneasily back at him as they ventured off the lane and into the soft,
unkempt grass. He stepped over a broken headstone and started to really wonder
about why they were here.

“Stupid
question,” Rome grumbled. “You probably never have to worry about that, right?”

Kaleb
shrugged. “Half-breeds never live very long.”

“How
old are you, anyways?”

Kaleb
chuckled hollowly back at him, shaking his head.

“How
old do you think I am?”

A
lone frog croaked off in the distance as Rome took a moment to think about it.
The number one hundred and twelve came to mind, and he laughed when he realized
he had just a little over one hundred and twelve thousand miles on his car.
“Why not… One hundred and twelve,” he guessed with a smile.

“I
think I’m going to eat you now.”

“Hey,
I didn’t say you
looked
one hundred and twelve.”

“Do
you think I act that old, either?” Kaleb asked.

“Ha,
I suppose you have a point.”

Mossy,
aged headstones were scattered around modern new ones all over the lawn. Kaleb
found himself looking at the dates and reading the names of the deceased,
confused about why the very recent were mixed in with the very old. Many of
them were from the 1700’s, and so weathered and worn they were illegible.

Rome
seemed to be scanning the names as he went.

“Can
you see in the dark?” Kaleb asked.

The
grounds were lit gently by the moon shining above them, and Rome could make out
just enough of the surroundings in the dim light. “Yes, and no,” he answered.
“I can see better than—well, I guess someone who’s human. But if I really want
to see any kind of distance, I have to do this.” He closed his eyes, feeling
the flecks of gold bleed into his irises. When he opened them, they were
glowing brightly in contrast to the shadows cast over his face.

Kaleb watched as Rome rubbed at his eyes, blinking them
open
again in the
inky darkness. He wasn’t sure what he liked better, the gold or the blue.

“I’m
seventeen,” he finally answered.

Rome
chuckled.

“You
find that amusing?”

“A
seventeen year old vampire? Yeah, I find that a little funny,” he said. “So,
were you like… born? Or did someone have to bite you?”

“…I
wasn’t bitten.”

Tension
lingered in the air between them as Rome contemplated just what that meant.
Kaleb was a vampire, but that was only half of who he was. He was also a witch.
To be born in the middle of a conflict with either of your parents on warring
sides – that had to be tough.

“Did
you grow up around magic?” he asked covertly. What he was really trying to ask
was if he’d been raised as a witch or a vampire.

“I grew up around witches, but they were all slaves. No
one is allowed to practice magic inside the clan. That’s why my father sent me
away.”

“It
took a lot for him to get you here, didn’t it?” Rome mumbled. “I understand I
might be overstepping my boundaries,” he said, pausing a moment, “but, how is
it that you’re even… alive?”
Kaleb swallowed
thickly, stopping in the middle of the cemetery with his hands shoved into his
pockets. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

Kaleb
exhaled quietly.

“No,
you probably shouldn’t have,” he agreed. He stood there in the chill night air
as Rome shifted awkwardly at his side. “My father is King. He chose to keep me.
That’s the only reason I’m not dead.”

“King,”
Rome whispered. Something was playing at the back of his
mind. “Wouldn’t that mean…?” He stepped directly
in front of him,
looking up
at
him with an intense expression. “How old is your father?”

Kaleb
stared back at him.

Rome
was trying to piece it all together, and he was so very close.

“He’s
older than all of us,” he answered. “He was the first.”

Rome
was speechless as they ventured further into the darkness, finally reaching
what he’d been looking for. Kaleb’s eyes fell to him as he hovered silently
over one of the graves, tracing a hand over the rough stone. He slipped to his
knees, staring at the name like a lost child.

Donna Navarro

Beloved Mother, Cherished Wife

“Your
mother,” Kaleb said, not making it a question.

He
nodded wordlessly.

“How
long?”

“…She was murdered six years ago.” Rome sighed
, rubbing a hand over his
forehead. “I’m questioning everything...”

He
didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Kaleb
leaned against the base of a nearby tree, giving Rome a few peaceful seconds.
“Why are you here?” he asked after a pause. “Does it make you feel comforted?”

“Sometimes,”
he said. “As for why I’m here, I wish I knew. She never told me anything, about
any of this. I just wish I could talk to her, now more than ever.” A still
silence wrapped around them, embracing the night as the air blew gently through
the blades of grass and fallen leaves.

“Do
you believe in curses?” Rome asked.

“Isn’t
that what we are, cursed?”

Rome let his eyes slip closed, forcing back more emotion
than he
was
comfortable with. He just hoped Kaleb wouldn’t notice, or at the very least,
that he wouldn’t comment. “It sort of feels like that, doesn’t it?” he said,
turning around to press his back against the stone. He wrapped his arms around
his bent knees, looking over at Kaleb. It was in that moment that he felt
connected to him in some strange, unexplainable way. They’d grown up literally
worlds apart, and yet they were more alike than either of them knew.

“You
called me an alpha. What does that mean?”

Kaleb
sighed. “Truthfully, I never paid much attention to my tutor, so I couldn’t
tell you a lot. The only thing I really know is that you’re stronger than a
normal werewolf, and you can infect people. You’re also supposed to be able to
turn whenever you please, regardless of the phase of the moon.”

Rome
steepled his fingers together and frowned down at his shoes.

“Infect?
You mean like a disease?”

“That’s what lycanthropy and vampirism are – magical diseases.
Only an alpha can pass on a case
of full blown lycanthropy, though
someone
bitten by a normal werewolf might develop some unique traits.”

“Like
what?”

“Like…
being able to see in the dark,” Kaleb said.

Rome
hummed in thought.

“So,
if I bit someone, I’d end up making another alpha?” he asked, trying not to let
his face reflect the confusion he felt.

“No.
Alphas are born, not turned. It’s in your blood.”

The
answer settled over Rome like a thin sheet of ice. He knew now without a doubt.
What he was, he’d inherited from his mother. What he couldn’t figure out was
why she had never thought to tell him.

“So
can you?” Kaleb whispered excitedly.

“Can
I what?”

“Transform
whenever you want.”

Rome
nodded and Kaleb’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. He knew the next question that
was going to come out of his mouth.

“Will
you show me?”

Rome sat there contemplating the question. Strangely, his
first
instinct
wasn’t to say no. The thought of being able to share that with someone was
tempting. “What if I hurt you?” he said seriously. “I don’t like you half the
time, but I still don’t think I could live with that.”

“You
wouldn’t,” Kaleb assured him. “I wouldn’t let you.” He could tell by the slant
of his eyes that he didn’t believe him.

Rome got to his feet, muttering, “I can’t believe I’m
going to do
this.”
He sighed, pausing to point at Kaleb sternly before circling around the tree.

Kaleb
frowned, following curiously after him. He pressed his shoulder into the bark
and crossed his arms, watching avidly as Rome started to remove his shirt. That’s
when he saw them.
Rome’s
entire back was covered in scars. They twisted across his skin like a grizzly
story, spread out in thin, overlapping lines and gnarled bits of flesh. A
collection of circular scars dotted along the top of his left shoulder, some
crammed so closely together that they looked like one, massive burn.

Rome
whirled around, tugging his shirt back down.

“I
told you to wait!” he barked.

“No,”
Kaleb breathed, “you pointed at me.”

“Same
thing!”

“…Where
did you get those?”

“I—”

A
distant scream rose through the trees and Rome’s head snapped to the side,
staring off in the direction it had come from.

Kaleb
frowned into the distance.

“You
heard that, right?”

“Don’t
even think about it,” Kaleb said.

A
few seconds passed in silence as the sounds of their hearts pounding hung
loudly in the air. Rome was listening so intently he could hear insects moving
along the ground. Another sharp scream pierced his ears, and he bolted across
the lawn, leaping over headstones and weaving past trees. A soft curse and the
crunching of leaves followed as Kaleb raced after him.