Lizzy Ford: Cursed

Adrienne crossed her arms. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

The lean gang leader approached her, pausing less than a foot away. Adrienne tilted her head back to meet his blue-green gaze. There was an odd, predatory gleam in his eyes that made her wish Rene was there.

“You really wanna play this game with me?” he asked softly. “These are my streets, Adrienne. No one crosses me on my streets.”

“I’m not …” she drifted off then swallowed her anger.

Help Jax.

She began to doubt the latest piece of advice from her long-dead sister. Jax seemed completely in control, not the kind of man who needed help.

“I need to find a bokor ,” she answered him.

“Why?”

“Um, there’s a girl at school bothering me.” She dropped her gaze to his chest as she spoke, uncertain why her instincts didn’t like the idea of telling him it had to do with the curse.

Jax was silent, still, long enough for her to doubt he believed her. She didn’t look up, instead studying his lean frame. Her sister had fallen in love with this man. The gentlest person on earth, how had Therese managed to tame someone who seemed so … hard? Cold?

“That’s my sister,” she said, eyes lingering on one tattoo on his arm. “She was happy with you.”

His tension was scaring her.

Adrienne withdrew the picture Rene gave her.

Jax took it. The sight of Therese had an instant effect. He took a deep breath and shook out his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “We were happy together.”

Sensing his dangerous mood had passed, Adrienne stepped away until she was comfortable with the distance between them.

“You need a bokor ,” Jax repeated, eyes on the picture. “C’mon. I’ll take you.” He pocketed the picture and started away.

Adrienne watched him, wanting to run, but suspecting he could find her, wherever she went, as long as she was in his territory.

Now would be a good time to show up, Rene, she said silently, dwelling on the younger brother’s warning not to be around Jax.

Jax glanced back over his shoulder, his gait slowing.

Adrienne scrambled after him, afraid of him without understanding what it was about him that scared her.

He went into the nearest alley, where a motorcycle waited. Straddling it, he tossed her the single helmet.

“Hop on,” he told her.

“Um, are we going far?” she asked.

“No.”

Adrienne went.

Help Jax.

Maybe this is what her sister wanted her to do, to go with him. Therese had trusted him at one point, and she’d possessed some woman’s body long enough to deliver the message to Adrienne that Jax needed help.

Feeling a little more confident, Adrienne climbed on back of the motorcycle, situated her cross-body bag and wrapped her arms around him.

“Ready?” he shouted above the roar of the bike.

“Yes!”

The bike shot forward. Adrienne gasped and clung to him.

Jax tore through the streets, not stopping for traffic, weaving in and out of cars and bypassing red lights with sudden turns.

Adrienne clung to him, at first horrified by the speed and air rushing by her. Her fear was replaced by a thrill as she realized the extent of Jax’s deft skill. He drove with a sixth sense, as if he could predict what the cars and people around them were going to do before they did it. Her heart slammed into her chest as they passed within inches of trucks and cut off cars with a hair’s width of space to spare.

The ride became mesmerizing enough that she forgot to watch to see where they went. The compact blocks grew longer, the frequent stoplights spaced farther a part. Not once did Jax stop at a red light.

After her nightmarish few days, the release of adrenaline lifted her spirits.

The breathless twenty minute ride slowed and stopped. Jax propped one leg against the curb in front of a long row of townhouses with brick facades.

Adrienne climbed off, her legs wobbly and her body humming from exhilaration. She looked around. A small, grassy park was opposite the row houses, and older cars lined the curbs. It was a nicer section of town than where she lived, but not by much. There were bars over the windows of the houses lining the park.

“Where are we?” she asked curiously.

“Where you need to be.” Jax swung his leg off the motorcycle and pried the helmet off her. He draped it over the handlebars then strode forwards.

He took the stairs in front of one row house two at a time. True to his nature, he didn’t knock, but walked right in.

Adrienne followed him and paused in the narrow foyer beyond the front door. Somewhere in the house, a television was playing. The hallway before her had two open doorways – one on each side – and led to a set of stairs going up.

Jax appeared through one of the doorways.

“You got an iPad in there?” he asked, motioning to her bag.

“Yeah. School-issued,” she replied.

“Cell phone?” he asked. He reached forward and grabbed the strap, pulling it off.

“Um, no.”

He unzipped the bag and pulled out the iPad then handed the bag back. Without speaking, he started down the hallway. He tossed the device into one of the open doorways.

“C’mon,” he said.

Adrienne trailed, hesitating at the doorway where he’d tossed her iPad. It sat on a couch cushion in a tiny formal living room. Her excitement from the ride was beginning to fade, replaced by unease.

Jax had passed the stairs and was trotting up a second set of stairs leading to the top level of the row house.

Adrienne followed. The upper level consisted of a short hallway and three doors. One led to a small guest bedroom while the other had a laundry room. Jax had disappeared into the third doorway, and she went to it, pausing. A set of wooden stairs led upward to a dark attic she couldn’t see much of, aside from the beams holding up the roof. She glanced at the door, wondering why they needed one so thick that looked like it was made out of metal.

Don’t do this, Addy, she told herself. Her instincts were at a roar again. No matter what the woman who broke into her apartment told her, she was getting nothing but bad vibes about Jax’s intentions in bringing her here.

“Jax?” she called.

“Come on up,” he replied.

Adrienne stepped slowly into the spacious attic, allowing her eyes to adjust to the poor lighting. A single bulb was on in a corner, leaving most of the attic a maze of dark shapes.

She reached the top and glanced around, trying to make out what was in the attic. What looked like a stack of boxes was a few feet from the nearest wall, and there were shelves lining all four walls beneath a tall, A-frame roof supported by wooden beams.

“Jax?”

He didn’t answer this time, and she walked towards the lighted part of the attic.

The light came from candles at a shrine to Baron Samedi. A large, stone altar was a few feet from the shrine and its candles. This part of the attic smelled like bleach, but she caught the undercurrent of something sickly sweet she didn’t recognize that made her nose wrinkle.

Her eyes took in the strange scene. It certainly looked like some place where a bokor devised black magic spells. The altar was creepy, especially the streaks of what looked like blood that had dried down the sides and the drain two feet away that appeared to be clogged with hair.

Candace’s right. This is a mistake. Adrienne swallowed hard and backed away. Starting to feel freaked out by the place, Adrienne whirled and hurried towards the stairs. She smacked into someone solid and stifled a cry of surprised, not wanting to imagine what lurked in the scary storage space.

Jax steadied her and pushed her back towards the altar.