Page 66 of Too Cursed To Kiss
“Even if there was a second death, we don’t know how it will affect her. Curses are personal, so it won’t be the same for her as it would be for someone else. It might be her forked tongue, and poison might become more enhanced.”
“That’s why you’re cursed? Because you killed your sister?”
“Yes.”
The silence that followed pounded in my ears.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“You might as well explain all the details of your curse. We have plenty of time.” I crossed my arms, sitting back on the seat with aharrumph. These secrets were annoying and had to stop.
He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but there was a pause. “I’ll age faster than you can track, my eyes don’t change with the illusion anymore, and touching, kissing, being with others steals my life. But these things won’t matter if we get the ring back to my mother, who can fix the time.”
“It’s Victoria who handles time?” I asked, itching a palm against my pants and stretching out my fingers.
“Only some of the members of the old lines can work with artifacts.” His head cocked as he glanced over at me.
“Then I’ll be warrant-free, and you’ll be uncursed. Perfect. Speed up.”
“I’m already doing… SHIT,” Wald said, looking past me in the rearview mirror. Was it the first time he’d cursed?
I whipped around. A black SUV was on our tail. A flashing blue and white light reflected off the console.
My heart pounded as my throat closed. Holy crap. After all of this, I was about to be arrested.
Wald slowed down and began to pull over.
“Why are you pulling over? You can’t give us up. What about the ring? If they take the marble, we’ll never get it back to your mother. You should take the marble, just in case,” I gushed out, digging the marble out of my bra.
He raised a hand waving me off. “Keep it and stay in the car. We need more time, and outrunning them isn’t working. Trust me, I have no intention of allowing you to go to jail,” he growled, pushing my outstretched hand away as the sedan crunched to a halt.
“You can’t kill them. There’s already a string of bodies with my name on them.” I gripped his shoulder, and he batted off my hand, then opened the car door.
My brain caught up to what I’d just said. Wald was a killer, and somehow that didn’t matter? When had I changed my mind? The part of me that wanted to leap out of the car didn’t win over caution. I turned to see what we were up against. Wald walked up to the dark-suited man and pulled off his sunglasses.
That was no police officer.
Jeezus. Could these be Grigores?
I scooted to the edge of the seat and, with a minimalprofile, peered out the back window. Wald slapped his neck, and I bit back a whimper as the man put cuffs on Wald and walked him to the car.
Fuck no. Why was he letting them arrest him?
Stuffing the marble back into my bra, I dropped to the floor of the backseat breathing fast.
What the fuck was I going to do?
Something.
I had to do something.
I already had my hand on the back seat door latch. With a deep breath, I opened it and half fell out. Brushing the dust off the vomit-crusted skirt, I walked forward with squared shoulders, a cocked head, and a raised chin.
“Hey, where do you think you are going with my prisoner?” I said in my very best “don’t mess with me” voice. The agent whipped around, and I have to say I appreciated the look of pure enjoyment that Wald gave me, despite my heart beating fast enough that it was about to jump out of my chest.
“Who the hell are you?” the Agent-thing-Grigores-whatever said. He was wearing sunglasses, too. His head bobbed as he surveyed my torn, blood-streaked dress, and I refrained from trying to reposition my clothing by crossing my arms and thrusting out a hip impatiently.
“Does it matter?” I nodded at Wald to do the make-them-all-dead-thing he did. He shook his head at me and then raised his chin giving me the go-ahead. My brain glitched, and I stared back at Wald.The go-ahead for what?The agent was going to the small of his back. I had no idea why Wald wasn’t killing them. Maybe I should kill this one right now before he gets his gun out? What was I even saying? I wasn’t killing anyone. I didn’t kill people. I was staying alive. I stuck a hand down my cleavage, and my fingers found the marble probably a second before the bullet left the gun. I saw it go through where my head had been. The bastard shot me in the head. A weird frigging sensation.
