Cursed (Cursed Superheroes #1)

One, two, three hours drift by. I don’t have a window in my room, but sundown should be arriving soon. Which means all those evil, eerie monsters that go bump in the night will be coming out of their caves to torment the citizens of the town (again, this is all from what I was told by my parents). Creatures like me. My sister being a human is a great risk if she crosses paths with anything fanged or venomous. She could end up dead, like my parents. I miss them like crazy. Miss the way my mom used to read me bedtime stories, and when my father brought me an extra cookie or two from the kitchen. And even though they could never touch me, hug me, or hold my hand, they told me that they loved me and that they wished things could be different for me, that I would’ve been born normal like my sister.

After they died, my sister was stuck with the responsibility of taking care of me. I feel sorry for her even though she insists she’s perfectly okay with the situation. But I can tell it wears her down. And who can blame her. She’s nineteen years old, in college, has a cute boyfriend—at least he looked cute in the photo she showed me—and a ton of friends. Yet, she comes to visit and take care of me, like a good sister. Every day.

Except for today.

“Where is she?” I mutter, eyeing the time on the clock. “She should’ve been here by now.”

Maybe I’m just overacting. She could’ve decided to stay at a friend’s house or her boyfriend’s for the night. But I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning, when she brought me a day’s worth of food with the promise to come back today with more. My sister may be flaky, but she would never let me starve.

Something’s wrong.

As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the doorknob to my chamber twists.

I bolt upright and scoot toward the door of my cage, excited she’s here. And relieved. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was beginning to worry…” My jaw nearly hits the floor as the door opens.

The person standing in my doorway isn’t my sister, but a guy dressed in black jeans and a matching t-shirt and boots. He looks on the taller side, has fiercely teal eyes, lean, heavily inked arms, and dark hair that hangs across his forehead and curls up at his ears. His brow and lip are pierced and a series of black rings cover his fingers. I don’t know much about guys, but I’d guess most girls would consider him extremely good looking. Well, except for the pissed off scowl he’s sporting. That takes his hotness down a notch or two, unless you have a thing for brooding guys.

I eye him over, wondering who he is and why he’s here. When a strange scent of earth and spices burns at my nostrils,