Page 77 of Too Cursed To Kiss
My hand moved over my breast where the marble was tucked into my bra. “You mean the marble? The marble is theirs?”
Victoria nodded. “The artifact belongs to another placeand to the family. I sent it to Agatha so she might return it to the passings. But now it appears you will have to use it to bargain with.”
“But the ring is in the marble.”
“Ah, I expected it might be. Did Agatha repair it?”
“No.”
Victoria brushed invisible lint from her shoulder. “That is unfortunate.”
“Look, if I’m going to stay here, then tell me exactly how this works, and exactly what will happen when you open the book, or I open it, or whatever.” I was getting my answers upfront this time.
“I have no idea, my dear. This is not my field of expertise.”
“Hang on, you have no idea? Fuck no. I’m not opening that book. I could fucking die, and I wouldn’t get the ‘passing’ deal. I’d be the dead kind of dead.”
“Not if you wear the ring, darling. They can’t break your connection with the present world or touch your form if you’re wearing the ring.”
“But the ring is broken.”
“It can’t turn back time, but it can be worn. Even broken things can hold magic.” She glanced behind me at a section of mirror pieces. “Mason, bring Wald in.”
I whipped around to see where Victoria was looking and got a full reflection. The vomit-crusted sundress was in tatters, and the wild frizzled mess of my hair was straight out of a horror movie where the heroine keeps running from the killer.
The wall opened, and Mason wheeled Wald in on a gurney. First off, I wondered why they had a gurney, and second, why the wall had a concealed door. Where did it lead to? There were far too many secrets in this house and inthis family. When all was said and done, I’d be well rid of them.
I choked back a sob I hadn’t realized I’d made out loud. Victoria turned to me, her perfect pink lips curled up on the side. I looked for other pieces of Wald in her features but not finding them. But of course, she wasn’t really his mother.
“It’s all right, dear. He’s dead. He can’t hurt you.”
I glanced at Wald’s prone form and then looked up at Mason. Victoria wasn’t talking about Wald.
Mason left Wald in the middle of the room and then returned to the wall, disappearing through the door. My brain tried to catch up to the dead-man-walking label. Was he really a zombie? He didn’t look like a zombie, but I didn’t fricking know what a zombie looked like. I’d never met one in real life. Maybe he was something entirely different.
“Good luck,” Victoria said, opening the main door.
“Wait, no. You can’t leave me here.” I raced toward her, crushing the urge to grab at her suit jacket so she couldn’t walk away.
She stopped on the threshold. “If we want Wald back, there will have to be sacrifices.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but I did want him back. How much was bouncing around my head like a ping-pong ball.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me staring at my broken reflection. I’m not a huge fan of looking at myself in the mirror, but the other options were Wald’s dead cold body and the goddamned family album.
I sucked in a breath for courage and got a whiff of leather. Choking back tears, I went to Wald and knelt besidehim. There was no breath. No heat. My fingers wavered an inch from the smoothness of his chest. What was I doing? He was dead. They could call it whatever they wanted to, but this man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, was dead.
His cool waxy skin was fur-soft under my fingers as I brushed his cheek. I’d partially hoped my touch, or my warmth, or something would wake him up. Maybe I should kiss him like in the movies.
His eyebrows slanted toward his temples, and his forehead was wide and smooth. His face tapered to a square chin, the long wide nose ended in a thin upper and a lush lower lip. Velvet. My fingers hovered over them, my throat tight and dry. He was handsome even in death. But the thing that made him Wald was gone. His spirit or soul or life force wasn’t here anymore; there was only this body. This dead empty body. I jerked my hand back, and tears flowed down my cheeks.
Collapsing on his chest, I sobbed over him, the scent of his skin now dusty. Everything we’d been through dropped on me. I swam in the memories of pain and kisses, fighting to get to the surface.
When I couldn’t cry any more, I sat up and wiped my face with the back of my hand and used the inside of the destroyed skirt to blow my nose. If there had been anything to change into, I would have. Wald was dead, and no one cared how I looked. I choked back another sob. No one cared about me. There was just me. Meeting Wald had changed me. I felt things: trust, protection, desire—love.
My tears had beaded on his skin, and my cheeks fired with rage. The bastard had tried to save me. Multiple times. He’d trusted me. He believed in me. I’d killed him, and I had to try something, anything.
With the resolve of someone out of their mind with grief, I strode over to the table and opened the book. Smoke poured out of it with a screech.
