Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) (18 page)

“Are
you always so aggressive?”

Rome
didn’t answer.

“I
just want to talk,” Kaleb said quietly.

“That’s
what counselors are for. I think the guy’s even your type.”

Kaleb’s
fingers bit into his skin, fangs snapping down from the roof of his mouth
unintentionally. “I could simply take what I want.”

Rome
reflected the dark look in Kaleb’s eyes. They were always so hit and miss, he
thought. “What do you even want from me?”

“There
are only two things I need, and since you’re foolishly taking sex off of the
menu, that leaves…”

“Blood,”
Rome said.

Kaleb’s
smile widened.

“Fine,
just hurry up and get it over with.”

“Were you even listening to what I said the other night?”
Kaleb
asked angrily.
“What you asked me to do, that doesn’t come cheap. I’m not going to feed on you
once and call it even, you stupid mongrel.”

Rome
growled, feeling the sound reverberate in his chest.

“Didn’t
anyone ever teach you how to ask for things nicely, or does the son of a king
just get whatever the fuck he wants?”

Kaleb
ripped him off the bed, slamming Rome roughly into the wall. He took pleasure
in the grimace on his face and the light trembling of his body. “Sorry, did I
hurt you?” he breathed. His face was tight with anger, jaw clenched and eyes
narrowed. He pressed his knuckles into Rome’s chest, crushing him against the
plaster. This was one of the things he hated most about Rome. He had a talent
for taking away his control, for getting under his skin in a way no one else
could. It was like he knew just the right words to say to make him snap. He was
almost starting to think he delighted in it.

“Do
I need to call the nurse?” Rome warned.

“Call
the bitch, if you think she can stop me.”

Rome
chuckled under his breath.

That
sound was grating on Kaleb. He could kill him right now if he wanted to, and
Rome was laughing. He thought he was a damn joke, just like everyone else.
Kaleb closed his eyes, trying to push back the boiling rage that
laughter was provoking. “I’m so tired,” he
muttered. “I’m so tired of
everyone treating me like shit!” Magic
crackled dangerously through the air, surging around them wildly and raising
the hair on Kaleb’s arms. A crack started at the bottom of the door, running up
the solid piece of wood until it
splintered
loudly
in half. Bits of plaster sprinkled down from above as the ceiling began to cave
under the weight of his fury.

“
Holy
shit,” Rome whispered, staring upwards. His eyes flicked back to Kaleb,
touching his wrists cautiously. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But
right now, you need to get ahold of yourself. Before you bring the roof down on
our heads.”

Kaleb
wasn’t listening to Rome. He wasn’t looking at him. If he did, he thought he
might rip his throat out.

“You
can feed on me, okay? It’s the least I can do to pay you back for what you did.
I know I owe you… for more than just saving those guys. I know that I owe you
my life.”

“You
know what?” Kaleb whispered, opening his eyes. “I don’t even want your blood.
You’re filthy, and vile, and
I hate you
. You’re worthless, and ugly, and
no one in their right mind would want you,” he hissed. He hovered over Rome’s
mouth, staring at his lips – wanting to kiss him and claw into his face at the
same time. He brushed cool lips over Rome’s burning hot ones, reveling in how sick
it made him feel. “I can’t wait for the day when one of us kills the other.”

Rome
was stunned.

“…Don’t
talk to me again,” Kaleb said, turning and storming out of the room. He slammed
the door behind him, glancing back as half of it broke off and crashed down onto
the floor.

Rome
slipped carefully through the narrow space between what was left of the door
and what remained of the wall. The nurse was not going to be happy about that.
Kaleb was sauntering away with his hands in his pockets. His nonchalant gait
was getting on Rome’s last nerve.

“Hey!”
he yelled.

Kaleb
didn’t look back.

Rome chased after him, limping down the hallway
. He grabbed Kaleb by the shirt,
throwing him into an empty room and closing the door behind them. “What the
hell was that?” he demanded.

Kaleb
rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

“If you’re going to kill me, then you might as well get
on with it,” Rome said. “Hell, you’d be doing me a favor. I’m up to my eyeballs
in curses and magic and supernatural bullshit. Dealing with trying to figure
out what the hell I even am. And you keep throwing what you are in my face,
like you’re waiting for me to do something about it – like you
want
me
to hurt you. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be your friend. And maybe if you
could get over your crap for two minutes, that could actually happen.
I get it, okay? You have
baggage. You don’t like yourself, or what you are. Join the fucking club.”

Kaleb
looked at him slowly, waiting for him to get to the point.

“I
don’t think you’re filthy or vile, and I don’t hate you,” Rome said.
“You’re not worthless, or ugly. And yes, I knew
exactly who you were
talking to. I can feel all that self-hatred burning
you alive inside like acid.” His fingers bit into Kaleb’s stomach, emphasizing his
point. “But it doesn’t have to be like that. We don’t have to be at each
other’s throats.”

“Don’t talk to me like you know me,” Kaleb said morosely,
glaring at the ugly
white tile. “I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”

“Really?
That’s your big plan?” Kaleb’s glare snapped up to Rome. The way he was looking
at him, you’d think he had a sniper rifle hidden somewhere. “I’ve got a better
idea,” he said. “How about you help me limp past the nurse and we can kill some
time together; preferably in a
non-hostile
way?
Because if I have to listen to that clock ticking on the wall for
one more minute, I’m going to go crazy.” He jabbed a finger at the offending
object in utter annoyance. Before he could blink, the glass shattered and the
clock went tumbling to the floor. Rome scowled at it. “If anyone asks,” he
said, “I wrecked the room, and you broke the stupid clock.”

He
felt himself start to sway, his vision going black.

Rome
went sailing towards the ground, and Kaleb rushed forward, catching him before
he could crack his head open on the floor. He
hoisted
him
up into his arms, looking down at his unconscious form in concern.

“What
am I supposed to do now?” Kaleb sighed.

“…Nurse?”

Chapter 17

Recurring
dreams, it’s often said, are our unconscious’s way of
speaking to us. They can be frightening, and confusing. Often they make
little
sense to the waking mind. But
at their core, they carry a message. Some important lesson for us to learn, or
a revelation we need to receive. The recurrence happens when we fail to
understand it; when the problem persists without resolution, or we ignore the
dilemma completely.

For
Ariahna, there was one dream in particular that would never cease. It had left
her restless for countless nights, ever since she was little. What terrified
her most was the belief that it wasn’t a dream, though. In her mind, it never
had been. That sequence that kept her awake, worrying and turning into the
night… it was only an inevitability.

 Aria
pressed her face against the solid warmth beside her, fingers twisting in soft
fabric. She breathed in the faint scent of cologne, smiling and mumbling Rome’s
name. It took a moment for her brain to register that she was cuddling with a boy,
in a bed much too stiff to be her own. She opened her eyes, blinking back at
Rome’s sleeping face in confusion.

The
last thing she remembered was staring up at the stars.

Why
was she in the infirmary?

“Rome?”
He made a grumbling noise and his
arm
curled around her waist, making her blush. “Rome, wake up… Why are you in my
bed?”

Rome
inhaled sharply, startling awake at her words. “What?” he mumbled. He pulled
away so quickly that he went rolling right off the bed. “It’s not what it looks
like.”

Aria
pressed a hand to her mouth, staring down at him in concern.

“Are
you okay?”

He
nodded. “I tried to wake you, and I looked for extra blankets. I was just worried.
You were shivering and sweating, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

Rome
was talking a mile a minute and it was making Aria’s head spin. “How did I even
get here?” she asked.

“
I don’t know. I just woke up in the middle of the
night and heard
you whimpering in your sleep. You were so sick that—”

“—that
you crawled into my bed?”

“Yeah,”
he said slowly. “But it was just to keep you warm, I swear.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said, covering herself
with
the blankets.
She sighed quietly. “What time is it?”

“Um…” Rome looked around for a clock, but the walls in the
room were uncharacteristically bare.
“Honestly, I have no clue,” he said
, rubbing
at
his eyes. “Do you want me to go get the nurse?”

“No.”
She sat up, pressing her back against the metal bedframe. “Shouldn’t you be
resting? I don’t want to get you sick.”

Rome
perched on the edge of the mattress, smiling at her softly. He couldn’t catch
common illnesses like that. Something about what he was prevented him from
getting sick. He didn’t really understand it, and he couldn’t exactly tell her
not to worry because he was a werewolf.

“I
have a strong immune system,” he said.

Ariahna
looked unconvinced.

“So
what happened?”

“I’m
not sure,” she mumbled. “I think I fell asleep on the roof.”

“The
roof? Why were you on the roof?”

“Um…”
She turned sheepishly away. Rome slipped a hand over her forehead abruptly and
she jumped.
“I… was meeting someone.”

He
narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “This someone wouldn’t happen to be named
Christian, would he?”

“I
never said it was a he…”

“You
never said it wasn’t.”

She
exhaled quietly. “Yes, I was meeting Christian, okay?”

“And
he left you on the roof?”

“I
asked him to leave. It’s my own fault.”

Rome
didn’t believe that for an instant.

I’m
going to kill him
,
he thought.

Ariahna
shivered violently, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Are
you still cold?” he asked. She nodded wordlessly and he
crawled
back onto the bed, pulling her against his side. “Better?”

“Yes,”
she smiled.

“So…
you’re not mad at me?”

“No,”
she said. “I’m not mad.”

“Okay.
Good. Maybe we should lay back down then?”

“The
nurse could come in,” she whispered, shifting uneasily.

“Are
you alright? You seem… scared. I didn’t do anything, did I?”

“I’m
just not feeling well.”

“Do
you want a glass of water, or maybe a wet cloth?”

Ariahna
smiled stiffly. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “You’re the one who was seriously
injured. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Don’t
worry about me. I’m even tougher than I look,” he grinned.

The
comment had her donning a laughing smile.

“So,
I’ve been thinking… curses can be broken, right?”

“…Usually,
yes. If you know what kind of curse it is.”

“Okay,
so, a death curse. That can’t be too hard, right?”

“Rome,”
she sighed.

“I
know. It’s okay,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m used to it.”

“Used
to what?”

He
wasn’t sure he knew how to explain. Not without sounding like a nut. “It’s just
that… it doesn’t surprise me that I’m plagued with some
ancient
curse, you know? I mean, why not? Honestly, it’s just one
thing on a long list of crap that doesn’t seem to be slowing down anytime soon.”

“You
can’t have that kind of outlook,” she said.

Rome
turned to look at her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Go
out with me. Just one date, that’s all I’m asking.”

“I
think I’m done with dating for a while,” she said.

Rome
frowned softly at her. There was that feeling again.

“Did
he do something to you?”

“He
just showed me who he really is.”

“Well,
I promise I won’t leave you alone on a roof,” he smiled.

Aria
returned the gesture weakly. “I’ll think about it. For now, I just want to get
some rest. I still feel kind of tired.” She wiggled
down
beneath the
sheets,
closing her eyes as Rome curled up beside her. His presence was comforting, and
his warmth was more than welcomed.

“What
was the song you were playing, in the auditorium?”

“…
I
Dreamed A Dream
. It’s from the play,
Les Mis
é
rables
.”

Rome
couldn’t help but think about the haunting lyrics. The words had been stuck in
his head ever since he’d heard her singing them.  Replaying it in his mind, he
knew that something that sincere could have
only
come from
somewhere deep. It was the difference between knowing a song,
and understanding it – feeling it completely.

“Aria?”
he mumbled.

She
hummed softly in question.

“Sweet
dreams.”