Cursed in Love Read online

  It’s not like I didn’t expect it, but his admission stings. I step back, rebuilding the wall he just chipped. “So, it’s just sex.”

  Odyn doesn’t advance. He doesn’t have to touch me, though. The intensity of his stare is stronger than any caress. “Maybe. Maybe not. Are you willing to find out?”

  Am I?

  At his challenge, my eyes find Nick in the darkness, his stare heavy and accusatory as he speaks with a firefighter across the courtyard.

  “What’s he to you?” Odyn asks, his voice clipped. “Is he what’s holding you back?”

  I spin back around to find his attention not on me, but on Nick as well. The unfiltered hatred in his eyes takes me by surprise. “Nick? No. If anything, I’m holding him back.”

  He says nothing, only raises an eyebrow in question.

  “He’s my ex,” I admit.

  “Ah. Boyfriend.”

  “Husband.”

  Odyn’s mouth falls open, his posture suddenly stiffening. He clearly didn’t expect to hear that any more than I expected to admit it.

  “You married your partner? Isn’t that frowned upon?”

  “You sure you want to know?”

  He lifts his hand and adjusts his perfectly straight glasses. “Never mind, don’t want to hear it.” A few beats of uncomfortable silence pass before he nods his chin across the courtyard. “I don’t like him.”

  There’s a vulnerability in his voice that holds back the sharp comeback resting on my tongue. Against my better judgment, I lay a hand on his shoulder, pretending I don’t see him wince. “You don’t have to. But you do have to be civil, Odyn. For me. For the case. For both our reputations.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  I shake my head and draw my hand back. “No.”

  “Give me one good reason.”

  I can give you a million, but there’s only one you’ll hear.

  “Because I have a job to do, and from the moment we met, you’ve been one big distraction. Nick texted me four times, and I missed investigating an active crime scene because I was making out with you like some horny teenager. That’s not okay.”

  “But—”

  I raise a hand, cutting him off. “No buts. I’ll call you in the morning when there’s something to discuss.” I don’t give him a chance to argue. Biting my lip, I walk a brisk pace toward the entrance of the courtyard. I’m almost at the edge when I hear him.

  “You’re still in danger, Mila.”

  His words make me pause, but I don’t turn around. I can’t, because if I do, I might confess everything.

  My suspicions of why I’m in danger.

  And the fact that he’s not the only one to warn me.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. Won’t be the last.”

  * * *

  Technically, I didn’t lie to Odyn. I did have paperwork to do. I had to sign at least two forms before finding myself staring down at an exam table in the medical examiner’s office.

  The whole crime scene didn’t sit well with me, so I decided I needed to see the victim for myself. Initially, I told myself it had nothing to do with having her come to me this afternoon, but as I stare down at the body in shock, I know that’s a lie.

  She called me here.

  Samantha looks up from her clipboard and wiggles her blonde eyebrows. “She’s a prize, huh?”

  “She’s . . . recognizable.” I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Although the lower half of Judy LeClerq is burned and distorted, her face is still intact, something that hasn’t been the case until now. “Nick didn’t mention she wasn’t burned beyond recognition. Any idea what happened?”

  Samantha tucks her pencil into her messy blonde bun, her eyes lighting up as she stares down at the body. “This one wasn’t torched and dumped. The body was ignited on premises. I’m assuming the fire tripped an alarm the suspect didn’t know about because from what I read, the super put out the flames before it was too late.”

  I tear my eyes away from the table and blow out a shaky breath. “Depends on your definition of too late.”

  She snorts. “Too late to me is not having a face.”

  “Was the MO like the others?”

  She doesn’t answer for a moment, choosing to bounce around the room and pull files before waving a paper in the air. “I can’t be one hundred percent sure until I get the tox screen back, but if I had to guess, it’s looking that way. Heart failure and then doused in in something eighty proof.”

  Nothing about this murder makes sense. If the MO was the same, then why change everything else? Why set the body on fire in the victim’s home? It’s careless and sloppy, and after seventeen victims and no leads, this killer is anything but sloppy.

  A low chuckle snaps my attention to the small woman standing across from me wearing a knowing smirk. “I know that look. What’s in that head of yours, Mila?”

  I sigh, crossing my arms and wandering toward a wall of steel cabinets. “There’s no pattern to the victimology. The suspect doesn’t stick to race, age, or gender. He’s all over the map.”

  “He’s definitely not picky, that’s for sure.”

  I stare at my reflection in the steel, Samantha’s warped reflection behind me. What I’m about to ask is completely unethical, but even so, it doesn’t stop me. “Sam, did you work the Dauphine case?”

  The already chilled room becomes icy. “Why do you ask?”

  “They were burn victims too, right?”

  “I’m still pissed that asshole got off easy with death. It was too good for him.” The anger in her voice is palpable. It’s obvious I’ve struck a nerve.

  I close my eyes. “Do you have any idea why there wasn’t further investigation into the connection with Lola Chabert’s disappearance?”

  She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. Her labored breathing says it for her. I hate myself for every word, but I can’t stop now. “Sam, please. If you know something—”

  I’m interrupted by a shrill beep. Samantha pulls her phone from the pocket of her white lab coat and sighs. “I have a delivery. Can I trust you here alone for a few minutes?”

  My shoulders slump. “Yeah, sure.”

  I turn around and watch her rush toward the double glass doors. She can’t wait to get away from me, but I can’t really blame her. I brought classified information out of the station and put her on the defensive. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.

  “Mila?” I glance up to see Samantha standing in the doorway, her lips pressed in a tight line. “Lola was a good cop. You’re better. I hope you’re smarter.”

  Before I can answer, the door closes, and I’m left alone with victim number seventeen. I stare at her again, forcing myself to look past the widened eyes and frozen death mask to see the woman who sought me out.

  I only wish I knew why. I wish she could tell me.

  I wish they all could.

  “Judy LeClerq, you owe me almost three thousand dollars in car repair costs. The least you could do is give me some answers.”

  Turning around, I sigh and scrub my palms over my face. Lack of sleep and stress is wearing on me. There needs to be a break in this case soon before number eighteen shows up at my house.

  “Stop him.”

  The words whisper behind me, blowing an invisible breeze through my hair and sending a chill up my spine. My heart pounds in my chest so loudly it echoes in the sterile room.

  Those words.

  Immediately, I know she’s here. Judy LeClerq has come to show herself to me. Unfortunately, those two words are all I’ll get out of her. They’re all I ever get out of any of them. Two words that lead nowhere.

  This is what I tried to tell Odyn. This isn’t a gift. Even if I wanted to speak to them, they don’t tell me anything I can use to help them. It’s like a disjointed dance where two different songs are playing and none of the steps are on the beat.

  Still, I know she won’t rest until I face her, so taking a deep breath, I turn around and face wha
t’s become my cross to bear.

  And scream.

  The shaking starts at my knees and works its way up every inch of my body until it reaches my lips. I stumble backward, my body clanging into pans and hoses until I have nowhere left to run.

  Until I’m literally backed into a corner.

  Until I’m face to face with Judy LeClerq.

  Not her spirit, but the woman who had just been lying on the exam table.

  Judy’s partially burned body sits upright staring at me, her skin blistered, and her eyes haunting in their glare.

  “This isn’t happening,” I whisper to myself. “Wake up, Mila. Wake up.”

  I recoil in horror as Judy lets out a tortured cry that rumbles in what’s left of her throat, and I feel the pain in my soul as if it’s my own. I want to cover my eyes, cover my ears, and scream as loud as I can until someone comes to help, but what the hell do I say then?

  Sorry, I usually just talk to their spirits. Animated corpses aren’t in my wheelhouse.

  Judy bows her blistered head, and I remember the shoulder-length brown hair she had when she came to me. It covered the skin that now is splattered with dried blood and a tapestry of red and black flesh.

  “Stop him, Mila. We’re like you, but we’re not you. That’s the problem.”

  I scream again, this time out of a combination of frustration and fear. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

  “We need you. ”

  “Why?” I cry, becoming hysterical. “Why me? Why is this happening?”

  Her voice sounds choked. As if she’s losing strength. “Because you’re the one they’ve been waiting for.”

  Where have I heard that before?

  I close my eyes, digging into my memory with no avail. Those words are familiar. I’ve heard them before. It’s right there on the edge of my memory. Whatever it is, it’s important. Too important to ignore.

  “Fuck! I knew it!”

  My eyes pop open to see Odyn standing in front of the glass doors, anger pouring out of him as he stares at Judy. He’s out of breath as if he’d run all the way here after I left him.

  Impossible.

  “Odyn! How did you know . . .? Why are you here?”

  His gaze swings toward me, and I’m shocked to find disappointment buried in his fury. “Does it matter? Jesus, Mila! What the hell have you done?”

  “Me? I didn’t do this!”

  Whether he heard me or not, I have no idea. He rushes toward Judy, pulling that old, leathered book from his apartment out from under his arm. “This is why we need to train. You don’t know what you’re capable of.” I risk taking a few steps toward him, and he growls over his shoulder, “Stay back!”

  I freeze. “What are you doing?”

  He frantically flips through the pages of the book until he finds what he’s looking for. “I’m reversing what you did, unless you want someone seeing both of you like this. Jesus, Mila, why can’t you just listen to me for once?”

  As Odyn starts chanting an incantation, the gravity of what just happened crushes down on me like a boulder. If he’s right, and somehow I brought her back from the dead, then he’s sending her back.

  I can’t breathe.

  I don’t think.

  I run.

  I run until I can’t run anymore. I run until I collapse on a crowded sidewalk of a boisterous street in the middle of the French Quarter. Even then, I get back up and run more until the only thing that stops me is the sound of windchimes coming from my phone.

  As my sprint slows to a stumble, I fumble for my phone and pull it to my ear. My greeting is whispered, barely a breath of a word.

  But it’s enough.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Mila. It’s been a long time.”

  Chapter 11

  Odyn

  Fuck.

  Shoving the door wide open, I hear the squeak as the hinges protest my rough handling, but I don’t care. I can’t believe Mila did that. She should be training and learning how to hone her power. She’s far too strong and far too fucking ignorant.

  God, the woman is a pain in my ass.

  A hot one.

  But still a fucking pain.

  Leaning my head against the cool metal of the fridge door, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. I need to calm the hell down, or I’ll be the one doing something stupid like raising the dead.

  Unbuttoning my shirt, I make my way into the living room and throw my wallet and keys on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. I’ve wandered the city all night, and now the sun is streaming through my windows, warning me of a new day. I’m not ready to face it, so when the tingling starts in my spine, I close my eyes and focus my energy on the person coming through.

  “She’s feisty,” Mila’s mother’s voice comes from behind me. “I told you she’s strong. With her father’s strength and my power in her blood, there’s no telling what she’ll be able to do.”

  “I know. I really do. I just wish she’d listen to me.” Spinning on my heel, I meet those familiar eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiles. A soft, tinkling laugh falls from her lips. “It’s okay, Odyn.”

  Running my fingers through my hair, I tug the strands, hoping to all that’s holy she’ll finally listen to me now.

  “Don’t give up on her,” she pleads.

  I just want to be alone with my feelings. I need to wade through everything that's happened and figure out what the hell we’re going to do. But that’s not what’s bothering me.

  I want her. I shouldn’t, but I do.

  Seeing her in her element was more than enough to solidify my want of this woman who’s walked into my life, and now all I can think of is her.

  “Odyn,” Mila’s mother says once more, breaking through my thoughts loud and clear, and I focus on not thinking about having her daughter naked in my bed. Fuck. I’m in so much trouble.

  “Ms. Moroz,” I respond with a smile in the hope she hasn’t been able to gauge my reaction to her daughter.

  “Call me Mya,” she tells me, dismissing my formality. “I know I asked you to look after Mila, but I didn’t realize that included bending her over your dining room table.” I snap my gaze to hers. She’s a shimmering form against the window, as if there are lights projecting her against the glass.

  “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Ms. Moroz. . . I mean, Mya,” I tell her. I attempt to walk toward her, but the moment I do, she shimmers away, and I’m left with a view of the city.

  “I wasn’t angry,” she says from behind me, causing me to spin on my heel and find her at the head of the table staring down at the Book of Shadows. The sadness in her gaze as she regards the pages makes me wonder if she misses it.

  “What happened to you?”

  Her eyes meet mine. There’s no emotion in them. She’s dead. She’s nothing more than an apparition, but I feel a connection to her, like I would any living being. Like I do with Mila.

  “I believed this life would give me immortality. I paid the price for my daughter, so she could live.”

  “What?” I drop into the seat, intrigued by her explanation. She didn’t tell me this earlier, and I wonder if she withheld it for a reason.

  “This life wasn’t something I chose, and I know we’re all born with our gifts. As much as I wanted to walk away, to keep Mila safe, I couldn’t. She’s . . .” Her voice tapers into nothing, and I’m hanging on to every unsaid word. There’s something more she’s not admitting.

  “I need to know everything if I’m going to keep Mila safe.” Her gaze meets mine, her eyes the same color as her daughter’s.

  “You’re a good man, Odyn. I hope Mila gives you a chance. Long ago, I fell in love. I thought it was forever. I was happy. My baby girl came along, and that’s when I realized her father didn’t believe, well . . . Not only that, he wanted me dead and was set out to steal Mila from me.”

  My body is rigid as my mind tells me there’s something big coming. “He knew you were gifted,” I say. It’
s not a question, but she nods anyway. “He knew Mila was gifted.”

  “He did.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat because I need to voice my realization. I want her to deny it. I want her to tell me this isn’t some sick joke. But I know deep in my gut, she can’t do that. Because what I’ve just concluded is true.

  “He’s the one running the family of necromancers,” I murmur in shock.

  She turns away, but she doesn’t need to respond because the truth hangs in the air between us. Suddenly, a loud knock on my door startles us both.

  “I have to go,” she tells me quickly.

  “Wait,” I’m rising from my seat, hoping she’ll stay, but by the time I’m at the door, she’s gone. The cool air in the apartment turns hot, and I know I’ve just lost our connection. “Shit.”

  Pulling open the door without thinking, I’m met with the eyes of Detective Moroz. She doesn’t look happy.

  “What the fuck are you playing at?” she bites out, shoving by me and making her way into my apartment.

  Once the door is closed, I turn to her, wondering what the hell she’s going on about. She perches her ass on the edge of my dining room table and folds her arms across her chest, which makes her breasts even more noticeable.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Tell my mother she needs to get in here now. I want answers.” Her demands are loud enough to wake the dead, and I want to chuckle at my thoughts, but from the thunder in her expression, I think better of it.

  Shaking my head, I pull my glasses off and pinch the bridge of my nose as a migraine attempts to make itself known. “I don’t understand.”

  Her response is not one I was expecting, “My father just called me.”

  Chapter 12

  Mila

  The words leave my lips and hang in the air with an almost choking thickness. Although he flinches, Odyn doesn’t look surprised. Even though it’s exactly the response I expected, it doesn’t hurt any less.

  I refuse to cry, but I also don’t bother to hide the betrayal etched across my face. My arms tighten across my chest, sharp fingernails sinking into the skin on my arms. I don’t give a shit if I draw blood. I’m holding onto the last shred of control I have left while fighting back the tears that burn the back of my eyes.