The Cursed (The Unearthly)

“I worried that when you came back, you might’ve … changed. And I was worried that, as your partner, I’d have to report it to the Politia.”

 

 

I froze. “You would’ve done that?”

 

He hesitated. “Yes,” he finally confessed, “I would’ve.”

 

My chest hurt. Of course I understood, but it was painful to think that he’d give up that quickly on me.

 

 

 

“And how about now?” I asked. “You’ve kept your distance since that night, Caleb. Do you still worry that I might turn evil?”

 

Caleb shook his head. “I’m not worried about you—haven’t been for a long time. But I am worried for you. The Fates themselves don’t seem to have full control of your destiny, and the devil wants you—something I’ve never even heard of before.”

 

Neither had I. But now that I had met him, I knew he did covet material things, including a woman of flesh and blood.

 

Caleb squeezed my hand and looked away. “I am scared for you, Gabrielle because I don’t think the devil will stop coming after you.”

 

He wouldn’t. Not until he owned my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

 

 

Even after Caleb left, I’d stayed at my desk, doggedly following the leads that we had. Two women, one that smelled like ash and roses, another who moved faster than a vampire.

 

I was aimlessly flipping through the notes I’d copied back at the library, when I heard a soft whisper.

 

“Consort …”

 

I shivered and glanced out my window. Darkness had just descended, and the snowstorm that had everyone so worried was now in full swing. A curtain of snow obscured the tree line outside the inn, and even with my night vision, I could only make out the stark contrast of the white snow against the dark night.

 

“Gabrielle …”

 

I dropped the papers on the table and stood up. “Caleb? Oliver?” I felt ridiculous calling out their names since both were probably in the dining room grabbing dinner.

 

 

 

When no one responded, I snatched up my coat and paused. What, exactly, did I think I was doing?

 

“Death …”

 

I cocked my head. The voice came from outside. It shouldn’t have; sound shouldn’t carry that way in a snowstorm. I glanced out my window once more. Deep within the tree line, a shadow flickered.

 

Something was out there.

 

I slid my coat on and left my room. Perhaps it was the woman from the club, come to finish whatever it was she started. Or perhaps it was someone or something else. Since I’d arrived, it seemed as though I’d been hearing and seeing things. Now was as good a time as any to look into it.

 

I strode down the hall and through the lobby, noticing that Caleb and Oliver were in fact eating dinner in the dining room when I passed it. I don’t know if either noticed me, but no one tried to stop me when I crossed the lobby and opened the front door.

 

As soon as I stepped outside, the storm assaulted me. I pulled my flimsy jacket closer as the wind tugged at my hair and snow got ensnared within it.

 

What are you doing, Gabrielle? Planning on hunting down phantom voices?

 

The thought had barely crossed my mind when it spoke again. “… awaits you.” The voice slithered over my skin.

 

After a long moment where I stood on the stoop of the inn like an idiot, the voice spoke again. “Come to me.”

 

 

 

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that I should turn on my heel and forget what I’d heard, or at least grab someone.

 

But I was more curious than I was sensible.

 

I took one step, then another, heading for the tree line. It was the same place I’d seen the shadow move.

 

I’m just going to check. That’s all. I moved out of the light of the inn, and my vampiric eyesight took over.

 

I entered the wooded area and closed my eyes, relying on my sense of smell and sound to guide me. When I sensed nothing, I spoke. “Are you going to show yourself?”

 

“You … should … not … live,” the voice hissed.

 

I took a step back. Okay, I was an idiot.

 

“Who are you?” I asked, edging my way back out of the forest.

 

“Messenger. Deliverer.”

 

My eyes darted around the darkened woods. There was no one here. No scent, no pulse, no steady breathing. Only this voice.

 

“You … are … his.”

 

I could hear the beat of my heart between my ears, the sound growing louder and louder. All my senses crackled, searching the darkness for this being, and my muscles tensed, as though readying for attack.

 

“Gabrielle.” Andre’s voice cut through the night, and the noise inside my head silenced. He was at my side in a second, brushing my hair back. “What are you doing out here?”

 

I blinked at him, as if waking from a daze. Concern pulled his brows together. I touched the side of his face, where the moon illuminated his high cheekbones. I shook my head. “I thought I heard something.”

 

 

 

Andre’s eyes moved between mine, and then his gaze flicked to the forest around us. He wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”

 

It was only as we neared the tree line that the voice spoke one final time. “You … will … die … soon.”

 

 

On the walk back to the inn, Andre brooded but stayed silent. I knew he had a million things he wanted to say, and I could feel the tension pulling his muscles taut.

 

A small smile tugged at my lips. I wondered how long he’d last before he unleashed his thoughts. The front door of the inn? The lobby? I might be this man’s soulmate, but he was still as headstrong as all get out. Self-restraint was a new concept for him, one that he’d only begun to practice since he met me.

 

He made it to my room. “What was that, Gabrielle?” He shoved a hand through his hair as the door clicked shut. The angry, smoldering look he gave me skyrocketed the tension in the room.

 

I leaned back against the door. “I heard a voice.”

 

Andre’s eyebrows rose. “A voice,” he repeated.

 

I rolled my lips in on each other. “Yep.”

 

“And you followed it.” I could hear the skepticism lacing his voice. “After everything that’s happened to you, you followed this voice.”

 

I gave him an obstinate look. “I can’t just live in fear.”

 

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