Cursed (Cursed Superheroes #1)

“Oh look, just in time for a show.”


The deep, male voice comes out of nowhere and startles me so badly I trip over my feet. I stumble forward with my shorts around my knees and bang my elbow against the side of the brick pool house. The skin tears open and I bite down on my tongue in pain. I’ve never felt anything like it. Pain. So much pain.

Is that the first time I’ve felt pain before?

“God, that hurts,” I groan, cradling my elbow in my hand. I stare down at the gnarly gash on my smooth skin, blood seeping out. I’ve never seen anything like it, on myself anyway. “It looks so… disgusting.”

The guy steps out from the shadows with a smirk on his face. “Don’t be so over dramatic. It’s just a cut.” His eyes drag up my body, lingering too long on my bikini covered chest. “I’m sure you’ve had a ton of them before.”

“Of course I’ve had cuts before,” I lie. The truth is, I’ve never have. Not once. Not even so much as a paper cut. I know it’s weird, but I’m just not accident prone.

“Mmm… hmmm,” he nods his head as if agreeing with me, but his condescending tone suggests otherwise. “I’m sure you have.” He smirks again. “I mean, why would you lie about something so stupid?”

I’ve never had anyone talk or look at me this way before, and I’m unsure how to react.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but I—“

“Cameron,” he says, cutting me off.

“Huh?”

“You said you didn’t know who I am,” he explains, amused. “I’m Cameron. I just moved here from Sin City. I like long walks on the beach, even though I live nowhere near the beach. I’m a Gemini. And a fantastic lover. And I love to dance. There, now you know who I am.” He rakes his hand through his short blond hair then crosses his arms, watching me intently.

I blink at him, too stunned for words. His emphasis on love to dance doesn’t go unnoticed. Did he notice what I did to Ian? That he’ll be dancing all night because I asked him to?

That’s not that strange. Girls ask guys to dance all the time.

But guys don’t usually dance solo by themselves for forty-eight hours straight, do they? You know you’re different, Remi. Always have been.

“I feel sort of bad for the poor bastard. He didn’t even know what was coming,” Cameron remarks, studying my reaction closely.

“I’m sorry, but I have no clue what you’re talking about.” I play dumb, but I’m nervous and fidgety.

With his eyes fixed on me, he points over his shoulder at Ian jumping up and down in the middle of a group of people. “You don’t, huh?”

I shake my head, but my pulse soars. “Nope.”

“Hmmm…” He thrums his finger against his bottom lip. “Then how about I show you?”

Before I can tell him that I don’t want him to show me anything, he dips his head, puts his lips up to my ear, and whispers, “Dance with me, Remi.” He shifts back and offers me his hand.

I don’t want to dance with him, but I find myself letting him lead me to the dance floor. I feel like I’m floating, my feet not even touching the ground. In the back of my mind, I know this isn’t right, that I should slip my fingers from his, but it’s like I’ve lost control over my body.

“Wait, I can’t dance. I’m in my bikini,” I argue lamely as we reach the middle of the dance floor.

Underneath the light, I can see that he’s around my age and that he’s gorgeous, with blond hair, gauges in his ears, silver metal in his lip, and a tiny scar on his jawline.

“You look hot,” he assures me, then places his hands on my waist.

I want to be repulsed, but my body reacts, melting into him. I set my hands on his shoulders as he pulls me against him. His body heat engulfs me as we start to move slowly, even though the song playing has a fast, upbeat tempo.

“We’re moving too slow for this song,” I mutter, but then rest my head on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “All right, how’s this?” Within a snap of the finger, the song switches to “Wires” by Athlete. “Better?” he asks.

I nod my head up and down, surrendering to him even more, somehow knowing I’d do anything he asked me to do. The feeling is terrifying, like standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting to be pushed. “What did you do to me?” I whisper, terrified out of my mind.

He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers, “Showing you what it feels like.”

“Ian deserved what I did to him.”

“I know he did.”

“Then why are you punishing me? Is it…” I bite on my bottom lip. No. Don’t say his name.

“No, it’s not because of him.” He says it as if he knows exactly who I’m thinking about. “What happened to Max wasn’t your fault. And I’m not punishing you,” he attempts to reassure me, but then sighs tiredly. “Remi, I’m here to help you understand and prepare you for what’s about to happen.”