Misfortune Cookie (3 page)

Chapter 2

The price of greatness is responsibility.

There was no light at the end of the tunnel, with dead relatives beckoning me to join them. No chorus of angels singing in the heavens. No rainbow bridge.

My first lucid thought was,
This is a fucked up way to inherit money
.

Searing heat welcomed me instead.

Soon after, my last recognizable thought was,
I didn’t think I’d been a bad person.

Pain ripped through every nerve ending, peeled back my flesh, and broke every bone. The only light came from heat as intense as a blast furnace. I writhed in agony. Screamed as the flames melted my flesh with no reprieve in sight. Then it stopped. But only for a moment. Bone-chilling cold settled under my skin. Convulsions racked my body. Blood poured down my throat as I bit my tongue.

Skin regenerated. Bones knit back together. Pain evaporated.

Body healed, the pain express left the station again.

All the while, a voice spoke to me. For a long time, I couldn’t understand the words. The language of torment was all I comprehended. I had no beginning, middle, or end. Only suffering existed for me.

My mind screamed,
Stop
!
Please. Please. Stop.

I’ll do
anything.
Make it stop
.
Please. I’ll give you anything. Take my soul
.

“Consent has been given. She is ready.”

The pain ended as if a switch had been flipped. Through half-open eyelids, human-shaped figures loomed overhead, faces obscured in the shadows. Tapped out, I didn’t care. Unconsciousness, that’s what I wanted.

The damned voices wouldn’t leave me alone. Over and over they asked me to state my name. At first, all I could do was mumble. As my strength returned and my body repaired, my temper flared to life.

“What do you fucking want? You know who I am!”

Laughter, an old, dry dusty sound echoed around my head. “You are the chosen Ashworth heir. Consent has already been accepted.”

“You keep saying that. What does it mean?” After hours, maybe days, of unrelenting suffering, I would have agreed to anything. I wanted to move, to run, but my sluggish body refused to cooperate. Pins and needles numbed my palms, like my hands had fallen asleep. Soon after, tight, focused pinpricks pierced the soft tissue. Too weak to pull away, I ignored it.

“Rest for now while your body is reborn.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, but in the end, exhaustion won out and I slept.

I jerked awake. Fuzzy shapes milled along the periphery. My vision hadn’t received the memo that I wanted to see. White was the predominant color around me. Tired, I closed my eyes again and shifted my limbs. Soft fabric glided across my arms, then slid off exposing my skin to cool air. Gradually, my senses came back online one by one. Hearing and touch, the strongest.

I strained to hear a hushed conversation taking place nearby.

“Bind her to you. Why do you wait? Don’t be a fool,” insisted the rough voice of my tormentor.

“No. The choice must be hers. Too much has been forced on her already. Her affection matters to me.”

That voice I knew—the shitty bastard lawyer who shot me. Rage fueled my will. My eyelids sprung open and I lurched upright. Every muscle in my body rebelled and I flopped, boneless, against the plush bedding.

White sheers billowed around the four-poster bed. Not my bed, that was for sure. I was in my guest suite at Ashworth Mansion. I recognized the overwrought, luxurious décor. The room was the size of my entire house. And I was alone.

Had I dreamed the entire episode? A dull ached throbbed in my chest. I gingerly touched the spot, finding a thick pad taped there. Yup, I’d been shot.

That small effort cost me. Tiredness washed over me and I closed my eyes. I must have slept for hours because when I woke again, the ache was gone. I yanked down my nightgown, not wanting to think about who had dressed me.

With shaky fingers, I peeled away the gauze bandage. I sucked in a deep breath. Only a pink indentation remained where I’d been shot. When I tried to brace my body to sit upright, stinging needles bore into my palms. Red welts marked the center of each hand. Like I’d grabbed something hot and been too stupid to let it go.

A faint noise, a rustling sound, alerted me that I wasn’t alone. “Selene?”

“She’s not here.” Luca sat in one the suite’s overstuffed armchairs, legs casually crossed. A sheaf of thick papers rested in his lap, the blue glasses absent. “I told her that you had family duties to tend to and you’d call her later. You should rest.”

“Are you here to finish the job?” Panic surged through me. I rolled toward the far side of the bed, wrestling with the tangled bed sheets. Kinda of a futile gesture since he could catch me at any time.

“Stop, Radiance. Do not fear me.” He approached the bed, grim-faced. “I will
never
harm you again.”

Muscles protesting, I shifted to face him. “Yeah, right. You shot me with a flintlock. Why?” I remembered that gun. An old family heirloom, it was on display in the library. Sebastian was quite proud of it and often boasted that it played a role in earning the family fortune. Suddenly that anecdote took on new meaning.

Luca exhaled heavily, regret lining his face. Good. I hoped he felt like shit.

He moved away and returned with a glass filled with water. A curved straw poked out. “Drink,” he urged. “More fluids will ease your aches and clear your head.”

As he grew closer, short, panicked breaths escaped between my lips. My heartbeat jack-rabbited fast enough that I worried it might pop out of my chest. He froze, dismay plain on his face. He placed the glass on the bedside table and kneeled before me, palms outward and empty. “I swear to you, on pain of death, that you have no reason to be afraid of me.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had a choice to make. Trust him or tell him to get the hell away from me. After all, I was the heir and I could fire him. On the other hand, I didn’t want to lose an opportunity to learn more. I suspected that he was the only one who could answer my questions.

“I want to know why this is happening,” I said in a hoarse whisper.

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. The hard worry lines eased away and his face took on an angelic cast. When he re-opened his eyes, I saw relief there. “Please, drink,
cariad
.”

The “r” rolled softly from his tongue. I didn’t know the word but it was said so tenderly and heartfelt that it had to be an endearment.

“Okay.” I sipped the water through the straw, the cool liquid easing the soreness in my throat. The entire time he held the glass, he maintained a respectful distance as if not to crowd me. The longer I sipped, the more I wanted to reach over and touch his skin. Unlike anything I’d ever seen, pale, almost ethereal, it beckoned me.

Urgent desire crawled all over me. I fixated on his neckline where a crisp white shirt met his throat and waves of silky black hair brushed against his fair skin.

He swallowed once, then twice more. His nostrils flared as if scenting the air. His eyes widened, then he averted his gaze as if he didn’t want to see me.

Disgusted, I closed my eyes. I was the sick freak. Lusting over the man who’d tried to kill me. And he was an employee now. Unless I wanted him to charge me with sexual harassment, I needed to cool it.

“Radiance?” His concern focused my attention. “Something hurts you?”

Yes
, I wanted to shout. I’m fucked in the head. “I’m fine,” I said between sips, casting my gaze to other spots in the room. Anywhere but on him.

Once he was satisfied that I was well hydrated, he set the glass down and sat at the foot of the bed. “There is much I have to explain to you.”

I pulled the sheet over my breasts and grumbled, “This ought to be good.”

“From your perspective, I imagine not.”

Okay. Not what I wanted to hear, but I put the kibosh on the hundred other questions I wanted to ask. Instead, I glared at him. “Are you really a lawyer?”

“I am fully licensed to practice human law.”

I opened my mouth—
human law
?

He held up his hand. “Please. Let me explain. As the heir to the Ashworth Legacy, you are entitled to full and complete knowledge of what you have inherited. And the duties it entails.”

Duties? “I already have a job I like, thank you very much. I walked away from Sebastian and his millions for a reason.” Crap. Did this guy know about my past? The sex tape? Maybe a hole would appear in the mattress and swallow me.

“Once every generation or so an heir is chosen to defend the innocent. To serve the Higher Power.”

I suppressed a smile. No way was this true. Sebastian and this guy were total nutcases. Higher Power? The old man didn’t have a spiritual bone in his body. The only gods he worshipped were the ones on Wall Street.

His gaze settled on my face as if sensing my skeptical thoughts. When I didn’t interrupt, he continued. “In exchange for the heir’s service, the entire family benefits. Wealth, longevity, good fortune. Your sister’s recent six-figure job opportunity is an example of the legacy at work.”

I snorted. “And what if I refuse?”

Luca’s expression darkened. “You would force your responsibility onto another member of the family. If you walk away, someone else will take your place. They will experience the same pain, the same suffering as you did.”

His somber tone gave me pause. I didn’t hate everyone in my family. I may have thought ninety-percent of my cousins were a waste of space, but I liked some of them. Wait. Earlier he’d said one heir in a generation. That ruled out my contemporaries.

A stone landed in my stomach. Oh God! What if the next heir was—

No. I wouldn’t even entertain the thought for fear of making it real. “You do realize what you’re saying sounds insane?”

“Attend to your wound. It’s healed completely now.”

I checked again. Sure enough, fresh pink skin replaced the divot. Faint lines glowed under the surface—a kind of circular symbol that I couldn’t quite make out. “What is this? A tattoo?”

“Not exactly. It’s a brand.” He unbuttoned the middle buttons on his shirt, exposing a similar mark. “We are bound together.”

“What? That is the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard.” I pressed my palm on my chest to calm my heart’s rapid pounding. “I suppose you’re going to tell me next that I’m yours. That we are destined to be together. Hey, I read romance novels, buddy. That line won’t work on me.” I didn’t believe in happily-ever-after anymore.

Luca remained silent for a moment. In typical lawyerly fashion, he changed the subject. “Haven’t you ever noticed that members of your family have unusually long lives?”

Come to think of it, Sebastian looked remarkable for someone his age. I shook my head. Nope. The man had access to the best surgery money could buy. “You’re forgetting one very important thing.”

“No. I don’t think so.” Luca crossed his arms, a confident smile tugging his lips.

“My parents didn’t have good luck or long lives. They were drug addicts.” Pampered addicts, but junkies nonetheless. “And they died in a freak accident. So how do you explain that, Mr. Hot Shot, sort of a lawyer?”

He frowned. “Some people’s lifestyles are so destructive that even luck can’t save them.”

Whatever. “So what’s the catch? There has to be one.”

“In return for the family’s continued good health, you will serve as a Soul Redeemer. And don’t tell me you don’t believe in ghosts. Right, Julian? You can stop eavesdropping.”

“Fine.” Julian materialized at the foot of the bed.

If I could’ve shot daggers out of my eyes, and he weren’t already a ghost, he’d be dead. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I’d prayed it wasn’t you. But I knew it had to be.” Regret filled his voice. “I’m sorry.”

The apology cooled my anger a bit. “How come you’re inside the mansion now?” It would’ve been nice earlier, if he could have given me a more proper warning. Then again, in all fairness, he did tell me to leave. More than once.

“When you officially became heir, the ward Sebastian had against me dissipated.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you two had argued?” A bad feeling came over me. “You disagreed over me, didn’t you?”

Julian stepped back and remained silent, hands behind his back.

“Come on, Julian,” I pleaded. “You know I hate it when you give me the silent treatment.”

Luca interrupted. “You can converse with him later. I need you to understand your new duties. First off—”

“Wait. I didn’t agree to any of this.”

“Yes. You did.” He stared at me in disbelief. “Forgotten your ordeal so soon?”

The pain, the fire. The consent. Crap. Now it all made sense. “That’s not fair! You tortured me into agreement!”

“No. That was the cleansing ceremony. You consented long ago, when Julian appeared to you.”

“I was a child!” I spluttered. “I can’t help that I can see him. What kind of messed up logic is that?”

“I did not create the terms of the bargain,” Luca said.

Julian studied his fingernails and sing-songed, “Luca, you’re not helping.”

“Quiet, Julian.” Luca glared at the ghost.

“Enough!” I clambered out of bed, trailing bed sheets in my wake. “I don’t believe any of this.” I yanked clean clothes out of my luggage and locked myself in the bathroom. Two minutes later, fully dressed, I located my car keys and grabbed my travel bag.