Cursed in Love Read online

  “Odyn,” the female voice speaks my name. It’s like the wind blowing through the trees causing it to rustle in the air. “Odyn.”

  “I’m here,” I tell her, hoping I’ll be able to get some answers. When I open my eyes, I find the familiar face who came to me two days ago.

  She smiles sadly when she meets my inquisitive gaze. “You’ve met Mila,” she utters, and I nod. I’m reminded of the annoying yet startlingly beautiful detective who asked for my help but doesn’t believe a word I say.

  “I have. She doesn’t believe. I don’t know what to tell her,” I inform the woman who’s draped in a luminous glow.

  “She’s special, Odyn. The Elders will take her. They’ll use her power,” she tells me, confusing me further. Her ghostly gaze lowers so slowly. I’m sure she’s falling asleep, but then it lands on the book I’ve been reading, and she nods. “The answers lie within the shadows.”

  “I’ve been searching them, but there’s nothing here about the Elders.”

  “They are. They’ve been remade, renamed,” she informs me. Her head spins to the back, she’s looking behind her, and I know she’s about to disappear. “Help her, Odyn. My Mila needs you.”

  Those are the final words she murmurs before she’s gone, and I’m beyond frustrated. I’ve never denied one of my visitors before, but I don’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want my help. Would Mila ever come to terms with what she is?

  I take my time and go through the old, ragged pages again. If her mother is convinced the answer lies within, I have to try. Perhaps if I have proof of some sort, Mila will believe me.

  As much as she frustrates me, I can’t live knowing I haven’t tried to keep her safe. I’ve had to put up with doubters for years, people who thought I was crazy, who said I was a fraud, but for her to look me in the eye and say it, something inside me clicked.

  I couldn’t believe one of my own was doubting me. But then again, she’s not accepted what she is. How will she ever come to terms with who she is?

  My thoughts drift to the past, to the case she mentioned that I was called in on as a consultant. As soon as she uttered the name, my heart lurched in my chest.

  The infamous Dauphine murders.

  I swallow back the emotion that clogs my throat as the reminder of what I lost comes hurtling back, attacking me with a vengeance. Just when I thought I’d left the past behind; it comes rearing back in, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain to Mila Moroz what happened in those months of working with the detective I’d fallen in love with.

  I promised myself to never again get involved with a case, no matter how much my services could help. I can’t go through seeing her each day, knowing I can no longer touch her, kiss her, and that in itself is enough torture.

  Another coolness sweeps across my apartment, and I know I’m in for it now. “I need time to study the scripts,” I tell Mila’s mother, hoping she’ll leave, but the icy air doesn’t abate.

  “I didn’t think you’d be angry to see me,” Lola’s voice comes from beside me, causing me to flinch. I wasn’t expecting her, but when I look up, I can’t deny I’m happy to see her.

  “I’m not; there’s just an idiotic detective I’m trying to help,” I bite out in frustration, and she smiles. Lola was the one person who understood me. She didn’t judge me or call me a fraud. She loved me for who I was.

  “You have a thing for the law,” she grins playfully, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. “You know at some point you have to put the past to rest, Odyn.” She’s telling me something I already know.

  “How am I meant to do that when you keep appearing?” I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I’m shaken. For the first time in a long time, I feel pained from the memory of losing Lola.

  “I’m sorry, Odyn,” she tells me. “But Mila Moroz is the talk of the Elders behind the veil. She’s special,” Lola explains. “She’s in more danger than even you realize. If you don’t help her . . .”

  Silence greets me, reminding me that the Elders aren’t a family I want to mess with. They’re strong, dangerous, and they will do anything to rule over us all.

  “She doesn’t believe.”

  “Did you when you first saw someone?” she counters, and I realize I’ve been judging the woman before I’ve even had a chance to sit her down and offer her the talk my mentor gave me.

  “What if she doesn’t listen to me?” I ask Lola, my gaze locked on her watery one. Even in death, she’s beautiful.

  “She will. You’re persuasive.” Lola smiles. Closing the distance between us, she leans forward and whispers a kiss on my cheek, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin.

  The pain in the air is stifling, and I realize then why Lola has come to me. It’s as if she’s telling me without voicing it. I shut my eyes for a moment in an attempt to calm myself. I don’t know if I’m ready for the next step in my life, but I realize I don’t have a choice.

  “You’re leaving.” My voice is raspy as the pain of losing her a second time grips me. Even though she’s not real, she was still here for me even if only in my mind.

  “It’s time, Odyn,” Lola says, her voice merely a whisper. “I’ve completed what I need to; now it’s time for you to move on. Look after yourself. Look after her,” she tells me.

  I turn to my left, but before I’m ready, she’s no longer there, and my heart lurches. “Goodbye, Lola.”

  A feeling of calm washes over me, and I glance down at the book once more, and there, in the scribbled script, is the answer I need. I can’t help but smile, because I know Lola gave me what I needed.

  “Thank you, Lo. I’ll be okay.”

  Chapter 6

  Mila

  “What the hell do you mean, there hasn’t been a report?”

  After almost two and a half hours of calls, tow trucks, and insurance adjusters, I finally make it back to the station only to find Nick with his feet propped up on his desk eating a bag of Cheetos like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Exactly what I said,” he mumbles, licking orange dust off his fingers. “No one has called in a crispy fried corpse.”

  I push his feet off the desk. “Have some damn respect.”

  Nick stands, lifting his palms up and offering a lazy grin by way of an apology. “Sorry, I forgot you’ve already met number seventeen. Did this one talk or just stare at you all creepy?” While drawing out the last word, he wiggles his fingers in front of my face.

  Irritated, I punch him in the chest. “You’re an asshole.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, cursing Jose Cuervo for making me think it was ever a good idea to get naked with this guy again. Everything about him is half-assed, from his crooked blue tie, to his morning shave that missed a few spots, to the mop of sandy brown hair that always has a huge cowlick dead left of center. The man always looks like he rolled out of a frat house.

  Nothing like the crisp and effortless look of Odyn Broussard.

  Shit. Where did that come from?

  “Come on, Mila, don’t be like that.” Nick grins, deepening a set of dimples that get him into places they shouldn’t when we’re on a case. “I’m just teasing you. Hell, I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with the fact that you see ghosts walking around like a ‘Thriller’ video.”

  All I can do is blink at him. Ghostbusters. “Thriller”. He really does think I’m the walking embodiment of ‘80s pop culture.

  “They’re spirits, Nick, not flesh-eating zombies, and how do you think I feel? You think I want this? Jesus, I almost died today trying not to kill someone who’s already dead. Let that sink in for a minute.”

  He frowns, his fingers gingerly skimming the bandage on my forehead. “I wish you’d let me take you to the hospital. That cut looks like it could’ve used a few stitches.”

  I bat his hand away. “I’m fine. I wish I could say the same for my car.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Towed to Rudy’s Auto Shop,” I answer, slumping ag
ainst his desk. “I took a cab here because I thought there’d be a call about number seventeen already.”

  Nick’s quiet for moment, his bottom teeth biting into his top lip, and I immediately stiffen. I know that look, and I don’t like it. It means he’s about to question me about things I can’t answer.

  “Mila, I have to ask. This spirit, why was she in the middle of the road? All the others just hung around their barbecued—” I glare at him, and he immediately backtracks. “I mean, hung around their dead bodies. This is the first one to physically come to you before the fact.”

  I wish I could answer that. Not only to get him off my back, but to stop the same question from gnawing at my insides. I’ve never had someone show themselves to me before I knew of their death. I’m not one of those people who has spirits hovering around demanding to be heard. My sightings are few and far between and always at the scene of the crime.

  “All I can tell you is she looked pissed, and she had no intentions of moving until I hit her. Well, not like I could’ve actually . . .” Letting the rest of my thought trail off, I roll my neck and push off the desk. “I guess it’s pointless just hanging around here.”

  “Why don’t you let me take you home?” Nick brushes the back of his hand across my jaw as his thumb caresses my cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  “You see me every day.”

  “You know what I mean. I miss you. I think we both could stand to work off some frustration.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Nick.”

  “Mila . . .” he says softly.

  I know what that Mila is all about, and it’s not going to work. “That was one time. It was a mistake, and you know it.”

  His eye twitches, all softness evaporating. “What I know is ever since you’ve been communicating with the great beyond and talking to Dr. What’s-His-Name, you don’t tell me shit anymore.”

  I gape at him, lowering my voice as chairs turn toward us. “You told me to go talk to Dr. What’s-His-Name. You gave me his number, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Yeah, well, my mistake. At the time, I was unaware the only way inside your head is through your pants.”

  The station becomes quieter than a mausoleum at midnight. Heads turn toward us, and I flash a brittle smile. “The only reason your face doesn’t have my handprint on it right now is because we’re surrounded by colleagues, and I’m trying to prove we can be civil. But make no mistake, Nick, if we were alone, I’d slap the shit out of you for that.”

  His hand closes around my upper arm, pulling me toward him. “Mon chou, please . . .”

  “Let me go,” I hiss, pulling away.

  He jerks harder. “Listen to me, damn it.”

  And there it is, the carefully hidden temper no one ever sees but me. The one that accused me of unthinkable sins while committing his own without one ounce of remorse. The one that somehow had me apologizing for him sticking his dick in one of the rookie females.

  “Is there a problem here, Mila?”

  That voice.

  I glance over my shoulder, shocked to see Odyn Broussard standing in the lobby of the precinct. My mouth dries at the sight of him. He’s changed clothes, abandoning the casual jeans and T-shirt in favor of black slacks and a gray button up shirt that hugs him in all the right places. His dark hair curls around his ears and nape as if still damp from a shower. I try to maintain a balance of professionalism, but chaos erupts inside my head.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Would you believe I was in the neighborhood?”

  “No.”

  Odyn’s small smirk fades as soon as it appears when he lands a volatile glare on the part of my arm Nick still has in a tight grip. “I’ll ask again, is there a problem here?” The two men scowl at each other, each daring the other to break contact first.

  I’ve had more than enough.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, are you two going to whip out your dicks to see whose is the biggest?” I growl, jerking my arm out of Nick’s hold.

  Odyn arches an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips, while Nick grunts like a caveman. Rolling my eyes at them both, I turn toward Odyn. “What’s wrong? Miss me so much you thought you’d come all the way here and throw me out of my own precinct?”

  I expect insolence, but instead there’s a glint in his eye. “No, but keep talking, and I just might. You need discipline, Detective Moroz, and lots of it.”

  His words explode like a bomb, blowing my composure to hell. I have no idea if he meant that the way it sounded, but parts of me tingle that shouldn’t. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he’s going to take me across his knee, and there’s an inherent darkness in his gaze that dares me to do it.

  Suddenly, I can’t breathe.

  “I don’t think we’ve met. Detective Nick Devereaux.” Nick sticks out his arm between us, offering his calloused hand. Much to my dismay, Odyn accepts the gesture, shaking his hand with an obvious firm grip.

  “Odyn Broussard. I’m—”

  “An old friend of mine,” I interrupt, patting Odyn’s shoulder. “Odie’s just stopping by to take me to dinner.”

  Odyn shoots me a heated glare, his eyebrows pinching together as he mouths the horrific nickname that came out of nowhere.

  “Odie?”

  Nick pulls away from the strained greeting, eyeing both of us with suspicion. “If he’s such an old friend, how come I’ve never met him before?”

  Because my life doesn’t revolve around you, that’s why.

  “I did have a life before meeting you, partner.” I flash him a saccharine smile then turn toward Odyn. “Ready to go? We have a lot of catching up to do.” I bite my lower lip, silently begging him to back me up. It’s a lot to expect considering he hates me.

  To my surprise, he slips his arm around my waist and pastes on a plastic smile. “Of course, Meels. You can tell me all about what’s happened since the last time I saw you.” A shadow crosses his face as he eyes my bandaged forehead.

  I nod. “Of course.”

  I start to move when his grip on my hip tightens. Holding me in place, he leans in and presses his lips hard against my temple. My smile wavers as the smell of woods and rain hits me again.

  Fuck, why can’t he smell like gym socks?

  I feel Nick’s eyes searing a hole through my back as Odyn tugs me toward the door. I could turn around. I should probably turn around, but why? I don’t owe him anything.

  He has no right to me anymore.

  Odyn and I walk in silence toward a cafe a block from the precinct, still not daring to speak a word. It isn’t until after we’re seated that I let out the stagnant breath I’d been holding and stare blankly at him.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Meels?”

  That wicked smirk creeps back across his face. “Odie?”

  I groan. “I panicked and it slipped out, okay? What’s your excuse?”

  “I figured any man who’d stand for being friend-zoned for years would have a cute nickname for you.”

  “It’s not cute.”

  “Neither was what I walked into.” The heated look from earlier returns, and his jaw clenches. “I don’t care if that guy has a badge or not. No man should ever touch a woman like that.”

  I wave my hand. “He’s harmless.”

  It takes a moment, but Odyn’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Wait, are you two . . .?”

  “No! It’s just a complicated situation.”

  Complicated. Fucked up. Completely toxic.

  This is not something I want to discuss, and definitely not with him. Absentmindedly, I play with the thin rope around my neck. “You really didn’t have to take me to dinner. It was just a cop-out for me.”

  “Nonsense,” he scoffs, his eyes trailing down my collarbone to where the amulet hides underneath my blue knit shirt. “We both have to eat. Besides, I came to the precinct to see you anyway.”

  “Why?”

  Before he can answer, a pretty blonde
waitress, who’s dressed in a pair of black shorts and a T-shirt I’m fairly certain could fit a toddler, appears at the edge of the booth. She smiles sweetly at Odyn, batting her big, fake eyelashes. “What can I get for y’all?”

  A fucking break would be nice.

  Oblivious to the girl’s flirting, Odyn doesn’t skip a beat. “A bottle of Pinot Noir and an ice pack to start while we look over the menu.”

  The smile fades from the waitress’s face as she slinks off to lick her wounds.

  “I drink white,” I announce, annoyed at his curt behavior.

  “Not tonight you don’t.”

  I want to argue with him, but I’m more curious than confrontational. “Why the ice pack?”

  He motions to my bandage. “You have a knot there the size of a golf ball. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that icing an injury helps swelling?”

  I snort. “Hell no. My mother was too busy communicating with the . . .” Catching myself, I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood.

  “Communicating with the dead?” he finishes. His tone is flippant, like the concept is as normal as picking up a phone.

  How easy would it be to just let go? To finally confide in someone every dark and sordid detail of this curse.

  It’d be too easy, and that’s why I can’t.

  The only thing keeping me sane is having the respect of the force. If they found out how crazy I really am, I’d lose everything.

  My eyes blur as I stare at the menu. “So, the burgers look really good. Then again, maybe fish tacos would be better.”

  “Mila, stop it.” Reaching across the table, Odyn gently presses a hand in the middle of the menu, blocking my view. “Tell me what happened today.”

  “Why? Don’t you already know? That’s why you came here, isn’t it?”

  “Mila . . .”

  Mila. Mila. Mila.

  Frustrated with being talked to like I’m a wounded bird, I jerk the menu out from under his palm and glare at him. “Damn it, why can’t anyone answer a simple question? Just be honest with me!”