Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) (22 page)

BOOK: Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)
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“I
already fed you once today, and look what that got me,” Rome mumbled. “If this
is just some trick to get free blood—”

“It’s
not,” Kaleb interrupted, huffing angrily. “Now I have to try and
explain this shit to you idiots,” he whispered.
“Blood isn’t just sustenance, it’s life. It’s everything a person is and feels.
You can tell a lot about someone by drinking their blood. For instance, how
aroused they are,” he said, staring
pointedly at Rome. “Or if they’re
related.”

“Related?”
Rome said.

“Just
for instance,” Kaleb shrugged. “I’d be able to tell if you’re an alpha,” he
added, nodding at Christian. “Aren’t you curious to know?”

“Curious
enough to let you bite me…?”

“It
doesn’t hurt that bad,” Rome said. “Stop being a sissy.”

“I’m
sorry, not all of us can be masochists like you.”

“Better
than being a sadist.”

“What’s
that supposed to mean?” Christian demanded.

“Nothing,”
Rome said, managing to keep a straight face. He blinked, and suddenly Kaleb’s
mouth was latched around Christian’s neck. He stumbled back in surprise. He’d
never seen Kaleb move that fast. Christian looked startled, but not entirely
displeased, if the way his mouth was hanging open and his eyes were closed were
any indication.

“Fuck,”
Christian breathed. Kaleb’s hands smoothed over his sides, touching him
seductively as his tongue worked over the wound, filling him
with heat. He took back what he’d said – this felt
amazing. Kaleb pulled back
and Christian whimpered at the loss of
contact.

That
had almost felt better than sex.

Kaleb
closed his eyes, swirling a small amount of Christian’s blood over his taste
buds and trying to pick out all the little elements that made him, uniquely
him. He could taste the power in his blood.

He
was definitely a werewolf.

Christian
watched him curiously, feeling slightly disturbed when he realized what Kaleb
was doing. “He’s… he’s sampling me. Like wine.”

Rome
rolled his eyes. “Well?” he asked.

Kaleb
held up a single finger, gesturing for him to wait before swallowing the blood
and looking at them with a smile. “He’s an alpha.”

“Okay…
and that means, what?” Rome asked.

Kaleb
grinned at him.

Rome gasped as Kaleb’s fangs sunk abruptly into his neck.
He hadn’t
even seen
him move. He had him backed up against Christian’s desk, and Rome didn’t miss
the way he was grinding slowly against him. “Stop it,” he hissed. Kaleb was
drinking from him greedily with no signs of letting up. “Stop!” He growled,
shoving him roughly back. Kaleb fell onto Christian’s bed, staring up at him
with shockingly blue eyes and blood coated lips.

“Why
the fuck did you bite me?”

Kaleb
smiled at him, trailing a tongue along the edge of his teeth. “Why the
fuck
not?” he retorted. Rome clenched his jaw and Kaleb spared him from breaking
into another speech. “I bit you so that I could tell you what you wanted to
know, what you’ve been trying to figure out. I bit you to confirm what I
already knew to be true.”

“And
what the hell is that?”

“…That
you two are brothers.”

“You must be out of your damn mind,” Christian exclaimed.
“Have you seen this guy’s father? He’s one cheeseburger away from a heart
attack.”

Rome was trying to look offended.

“I don’t look anything like
him,”
Christian
said, pointing at Rome. “He’s got blue eyes, and—I mean, I’m not that homely.”

“Excuse
me? I’m in better shape than you.”

“That’s
seriously debatable.”

“I
can be the judge of that too, if you want,” Kaleb offered.

“No,”
they both shouted.

“I
think I would have known if my mom had another kid when I was…” Rome squinted
in thought. “I guess I would’ve been like, what, two years old? But still,
there’s no way she would have given up a child. I know my mother.”

“Maybe
I was wrong,” Kaleb suggested. “I could test again?”

Christian
seemed to be considering it.

“Sure,”
he said, “as long as he leaves.”

“I
don’t fucking think so,” Rome said.

“What’s
the matter? I thought you weren’t gay?” Christian taunted.

“That
doesn’t mean I want you trying to fuck everyone I know.”

“Am
I
sensing
a hint of jealousy?” he said playfully.

“You’re
about to sense my fist in your face.”

“That
would be a waste of a face,” Kaleb said.

“Thank
you.”

Rome
exhaled. “I want to believe you,” he said. “But I just—there’s no way. I can’t
accept that that’s true. He’s not my—”

He
couldn’t even choke out the word.

“You
know how you said before the only thing that matters is what you believe?”
Kaleb said. “Well this is one of those things we call an exception. It doesn’t
matter whether you believe it or not, it’s still true.”

“You’re
absolutely positive?” Rome asked. “There’s no way you could be wrong? Even like
the tiniest chance?”

He
was really grasping at straws.

“I
wouldn’t waste my time lying to you or getting you all in a frenzy over
something I wasn’t sure about,” Kaleb said. “You two are one hundred percent, without
a doubt, brothers by blood.”

Christian
and Rome were staring each other down. Rome couldn’t help but think that they
did look a little alike, if you threw some facial hair onto that baby-smooth
face of Christian’s. Same strong jaw, same hairline, similar lips. “My dad does
have brown eyes,” Rome mumbled.

“No,”
Christian said. “No, no, and no. And did I mention, hell fucking no? I don’t
care what Chompy over there thinks, you and I are not related. I’m not related
to that… unmagical, whiskey drenched, white-trash stump of a man you call a
father.”

Rome
growled in response.

“Your
father doesn’t have magic?” Kaleb said. “…That isn’t right.”

“What
do you mean, that isn’t right?” Rome demanded.

“There’s
not a trace of regular human blood in either of you. Both of your parents come
from magic.”

“So
you’re not only trying to tell me that we’re brothers, but that my father isn’t
my real father? Don’t get me wrong, I care about him, but if that’s true…” He
sighed. “If that’s true I’m getting one hell of an emancipation.”

Kaleb
was looking at him with a thoughtful expression.

“Is
he the one who gave you those scars?”

Rome
sidestepped the question. “
Christian, you
haven’t had any near-death experiences in the last couple of days, have you
?”

“No,” he replied. “Well, I did almost get stabbed earlier
when I snuck
into
one of the kitchens, but—that doesn’t mean anything. I know what you’re
thinking, and I’m not cursed.”

“You almost got shot, too,” he reminded him. “You have to
stay away from Ariahna.”
Rome’s heart was pounding in his chest.
He
hadn’t been scared of dying before, but if Christian really was his brother,
that meant
that one of them could die, and at any moment. The curse only
needed to keep one of them alive to be carried on.

“You’re
cancelling that date,” Rome decided.

“The hell I am. This is probably just some half-baked
scheme you two
cooked up to trick me into breaking it off with her. Well guess what? I’m not
buying what you’re selling, so you can get out of my room and
shove your
bullshit where the sun doesn’t
shine.” Christian flicked his wrist abruptly, opening his bedroom door. He
swept his hands towards them, effectively kicking them out on their asses.

“Brothers,”
he scoffed. “Like I was going to fall for that.”

Chapter 22

Night had long since descended over the world, blanketing
Vardel Academy, and its sleepy neighbor Redwood Bay, in darkness. The school
was
unnervingly
quiet at this hour. The only sound filling the void was the shrill whistling of
the wind as it twisted through the bare tree branches.

Rome
opened his eyes to that darkness, watching unearthly shadows dancing across his
ceiling in the dim moonlight. His window was open. He hadn’t left his window
open. He watched the curtains swaying gently as the chill night crept into his
room. The clock on his nightstand was flashing angrily at him – a blazing red
to cut through the black. It looked like it had gotten unplugged. He didn’t
even know what time it was now.

A strange sensation trickled along his spine like ice
water. He exhaled
languidly, observing his breath as it curled past his lips. Rome didn’t scare
easily. He’d never believed in monsters as a kid, had never been afraid of the
dark. But in this moment, the darkness felt like it had come alive. It seemed
like something was going to reach out and grab him, and the more he tried to
will the fear away, the stronger it became.

A
thick, slow-moving fog drifted past the windowsill, slithering across the floor
like a snake. His heart was hammering in his throat as he watched it approach,
circling the foot of his bed. A faint whisper broke suddenly upon the air, the
words inaudible to his ears. It echoed around his room, growing louder and more
furious with each passing second until it sounded like a hundred voices all
trying to talk at once. Rome was frozen beneath the sheets, hands trembling
lightly at his sides. He rose from the mattress slowly, feeling the weight of a
person’s presence – the distinct sensation of movement surrounding him.

“…Hello?”
he breathed.

His
eyes flared gold, peering into the darkness. There was nothing. He was staring
at nothing, and yet it felt like
something
was staring back.

If
this was magic, he wasn’t sure he wanted any part of it.

The
sound of shattering glass cut through the air. There was no denying that it had
come from Kaleb’s room. Rome threw back the sheets, trying not to run as he
bolted for the door. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely turn the
knob, and he fumbled with it for a moment before stumbling hurriedly into the
hall. The way he was knocking gently on Kaleb’s door suggested that he was
almost afraid to be heard.

“Kaleb?”
he called, his voice just an octave too high. “What the hell is going on…?” A
light flickered down the corridor, and his breath caught in
his lungs. Kaleb still hadn’t responded, and a
horrible fear that something
was wrong overtook him. He busted the lock,
swinging the door wide.

What
he was seeing was beyond belief.

Objects
hovered around the room, some shooting about hazardously. Icicles clung to the
edges of the furniture and the windowsill. And at the end of his bed, the most
startling thing of all – the figure of a man, looming over him in his sleep. It
was nothing more than an outline, a shadow darker than the darkness itself. And
in the time it took Rome to blink, it was gone.

Kaleb
was thrashing around frantically in his sleep, whimpering and
covered in a cold layer of sweat. Rome could hear
the pleading sounds
turning into sobs, and as the sobs grew louder, he knew
they were going to transform into terrified, unrestrained screams. He took a
timid step into the room, dodging a textbook as it soared at his face.

“Wake
up,” he said, taking another step towards him. The door slammed closed at his
back and he jumped, scrambling onto Kaleb’s
mattress
as though it promised safety. Kaleb kicked him and he grabbed his
wrists, holding him down and trying to prevent him from hurting himself. All he
got for the trouble was three stinging scratches across his cheek. The harder
he held him down, the harder Kaleb tried to fight. And just as he’d predicted,
he was wailing now in his sleep—blood-curdling, unintelligible screams.

“God
damn it,” he said, fighting with his flailing limbs. “Wake up!”

Kaleb’s
eyes shot open and the contents of his room went crashing to the ground. The
lamp from his other nightstand smashed against the edge of
the bed, shattering on impact and leaving sharp
shards of glass and ceramic all
over the comforter and floor. He was
gasping for breath, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. Rome had practically
climbed on top of him, and
Kaleb was barely
registering that he was even there. He was still in that
place, with
that man, running through the woods as the darkness tried to swallow him whole.
It was half nightmare, half memory, and it felt entirely real.

“How did I fall asleep?” he murmured, sweeping trembling
f
ingers up into his
hairline. He hadn’t had a night terror in years, mostly due to the fact that he
rarely slept – a habit inspired by something else that was part terror, part
true. He cleared his throat stiffly, blinking back tears.

Rome exhaled, collapsing on his back beside him. “Are you
alright?” he asked, rolling his
head to the side. Frightened blue eyes greeted him, gazing back just inches
from his own. He could feel Kaleb’s breath moving across his skin, but he
couldn’t move.

He
was too scared to look anywhere else.

Kaleb closed his eyes, turning away from Rome. The skin on
his face
was tight
from crying, and he couldn’t quell the shaking in his limbs. He slammed a fist
against the mattress in a futile attempt to make himself feel better. It didn’t
help. It couldn’t stop the tears, or take back the fact that Rome had just seen
him as frightened and helpless as a child. Nothing would. In Kaleb’s mind, from
this moment on, their relationship had changed. Rome
wasn’t looking at him anymore. He wasn’t seeing the person he
pretended
to be. He was looking beneath
that, to the weak, pathetic waif he really was.

“…Leave,”
he rasped.

Rome
rolled onto his side, staring at him in concern.

“Are
you okay?” he repeated.

“I’ll
be fine, once you get-out-of-my-room!”

Rome
made a frightened little sound. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to go
anywhere alone. The sensation that he was being watched had faded, but that hadn’t
eased his fear or paranoia any. Who knew what he’d find if he went back to his dorm?
His mind was weaving twisted images.

“No,”
he whispered. “There was something—
someone
—looming over your bed. And do
you see your room? It looks like a cyclone hit it. That was messed up, and I
just think we should stick together.”

A
low creak sounded from out in the hall.

Kaleb
sat up, frowning at the door and watching the gentle motion of a shadow
underneath its lip. He moved to get out of bed and Rome grabbed his arm,
hauling him back.

“Don’t,”
he said fearfully.

Kaleb
rolled his eyes at him.

“There’s
nothing to be afraid of.” He wished he sounded surer of himself. He wrenched
his arm out of Rome’s grasp and strode over to the door, standing in front of
it patiently and scowling as another slow creak drifted under the crack. Kaleb
reached for the handle, curling his fingers around it just as three, booming
knocks rang out. They were so loud and so sudden, he jerked away. He ripped the
door open a moment later, but there was nothing on the other side. Kaleb
blinked into the darkness, turning a confused look to Rome.

“There’s
no one here…” he said.

“Are
you alone?” a harsh voice whispered.

Kaleb
turned slowly back to the doorway, leaning out and searching for the source of
the voice. It was coming from every distant corner, echoing throughout the
hall; far away and yet so close it felt like velvet against his skin. It was
touchable, tastable, heavy – heavy like the beat of his heart.

“Come
out,” he demanded. A shadow raced at him from across the hall, and Kaleb went
flying onto his back as an invisible force collided with him. The door slammed
shut, rattling wildly on its hinges as though someone were pounding on the
other side. Whispering and quick bursts of movement circled him, and suddenly
he felt like he was right back in that nightmare, running from some nameless,
faceless evil.

“Rome,”
he pleaded, eyes darting around. He was looking for something to
fight—something to claw into and hit and bite—something he could make bleed.
“Rome!” he whispered more insistently.

Rome grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up from the
floor and scurrying back onto the bed. They stood in the center of the
mattress, staring around the room as a complete absence of sound overtook
them. The door had stopped rattling, and the quick shifting of air had ceased.

Everything
was unnaturally still.

The
temperature in the room suddenly went through the floor. It was so cold that
Rome’s lungs were burning, and a visible vapor from his breath was filling the
air. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved a muscle.

“Okay,”
Rome whispered, shifting on the springy mattress. “On the count of three, we
make for the door.” He took a breath, ignoring the look on Kaleb’s face. It clearly
said he disliked this plan. “One… two…”

A shrill scratching noise erupted from underneath the bed,
and Kaleb practically leapt into Rome’s arms. They clung to each other, hearts
beating out of their chests as it grew louder.

“Run
for the door,” Rome breathed.

Kaleb
shook his head fervently no.

Rome
ripped him towards the door anyways, even as he fought against him. But when
they reached it, the door wouldn’t budge. Hadn’t he broken the lock already? “What
the fuck!” he howled. He gave it one last harsh tug, and the handle broke off
in his fingers. Rome went stumbling back onto his ass, staring at the knob as
Kaleb proceeded to freak out.

Kaleb
slapped his hands against the solid wood repeatedly. He was almost ready to
start screaming for help. A low growling made him spin on
his heels. Rome was gone, and in his place stood a
pitch black beast. The
fur
along its spine was spiked out, standing on end. Its
ears were pressed flat to its
skull, deadly teeth bared and spittle
flying off its
gums and dripping thickly
onto the floor. He was crouched low to the ground, snarling at the empty corner
across the room. Something had thrown him into an agitated state, and whatever
it was, Kaleb was happy he didn’t know.

A
deep sound resonated from his throat, and Rome hedged towards the corner
menacingly. His mother’s voice played at the back his mind, a blanket of safety
in this moment of fear. He could remember her telling him that animals had
heightened senses—
that they could see things,
things
beyond what most would think
was empty air. He’d never really
thought about
what that meant. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really believed her, if he
was being honest. It wasn’t until now that the words seemed undeniable. It
wasn’t until now that he wondered what she must have seen to know something
like that.

The
spectral figure of an old man stood in the far corner of Kaleb’s room. His
attire was worn and aged, and his face—Rome recognized him. He remembered those
sunken eyes, that fine, silvery hair. He growled savagely,
snapping his teeth at what he knew he couldn’t
harm. The man tipped his
head
in reply, keeping his eyes locked in Rome’s wild
gaze. A smirk crept over his features, and he turned to point out the window
with one long, bony finger.

“Everything,”
he rasped, “comes at a price.”

His
voice was thin, yet it pierced Rome’s ears like jagged metal.

Kaleb
watched Rome whimper, staggering backwards and slipping against the smooth
floor. He started clawing at the bottom of the door like he was digging for a
bone, scratching frantically at the wood with sharp claws. They were never
going to get out that way. Kaleb whipped back towards the door and rammed his
shoulder into it, sending himself and the large hunk of wood crashing to the
ground. Rome leapt over him, and for a moment, he thought he was going to leave
him there alone. In his mind, nothing could have been worse. That was until Rome’s
mouth snapped down towards the flesh of his shoulder. He was going to eat him.
He was going to be ripped to
shreds. To his
surprise, Rome latched onto the fabric of his jacket
instead,
desperately trying to tug him along. Kaleb clambered to his feet, shaking him
off, and they went flying down the hall together. Rome was slipping around and jumping
down flights of stairs at a time, crashing into walls as he went. Kaleb was practically
doing the same, forcing his legs to keep up.

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