Cursed (Book # 3 of Hunted)

Disproportionately So

I ascended the wide spiral staircase. My footsteps, though soft, seemed incredibly loud in the large empty house. I reached the single door on the top floor and paused for a moment trying to hear what was happening within. I heard nothing. No sigh of breath. No pages turning. No bedsprings creaking.

I opened the door and at first, I though the room was empty, but then I saw him. The chains binding his wrists were stretched to their farthest extent as he stood before a large circular window that I hadn't noticed the night before because it had been covered by thick curtains the same off-white as the walls. He stared out the window at the bright summer day, his shackled wrists limps at his sides.

"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked tentatively hovering just inside the doorway. He was quiet for a moment before replying, "UV treated tempered glass." The silence dragged on long enough to become awkward. This felt wrong. I stepped farther into the room. I wanted to hug him, but more than that...I wanted him to look at me.

"I'd unchain you, but I think Keegan has the keys," I said stopping just outside his reach.

"That's probably best," he said reaching up to close the curtains with a faint clinking of chains. He finally turned to look at me and I had to fight the urge step back. His eyes were entirely black, his skin pale except for the bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes.

"They've been like this the last couple of hours," he said gesturing at his eyes, "I can't make them go back to normal." It was weird to see his gaze so black...so inhuman and full of recognition. It was one thing to stare into the abyss. Quite another for it to stare back.

"Keegan hasn't fed you yet." It wasn't a question. It was obvious. He shook his head and drifted over to the small table on the left side of the twin bed. I bit the inside of my cheek and watched him. He seemed in full control of his actions. It had been over ten hours since he bit Keegan's witch. If Anton were still in control, he would have been nonverbal with hunger by now.

"No, he just shoved this note under my door at around ten this morning," he said holding the note out to me. I cautiously stepped forward and took the note. He may have been Zane, but he was still a vampire who had missed breakfast.

I looked at the note and saw that it said basically the same thing that mine had said. Except for the part about not touching anything. I handed the note back to him saying, "I got one too." I shuffled backwards after he had taken the note and crossed my arms over my chest fighting a shiver. I wondered if I should tell him about the strange dream I had. If it was a dream. Maybe it was more. It grew fuzzier the longer I was awake. I knew it had something to do with Clay and the Hunter Academy.

I felt his eyes on me. Hot spots of darkness. I glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow at the curious expression on his face.

"What?" I asked and he blinked as if he just realized he was staring.

"Nothing..." he trailed off uncertainly and I waited. His eyes narrowed. It was an odd thing seeing so much expression in eyes that previously had only screamed hunger, rage and pain.

"I don't mean to read your thoughts," he said, "But you make it kind of hard when you think things like that." For a moment I didn't understand. He moved towards me, chains pulling tight. "Alberich. The Academy," he murmured, "Did you see something in your sleep?" There was a foot of space between us.

"Just a dream," I mumbled shaking my head.

"Are you sure?"

"No."

"What do you remember?"

I remembered being at peace. Feeling safe and warm. I remember a voice. It was Clay. I told him...He wanted...What did he want? I couldn't remember. The Academy. I reached up to rub my eyes.

"I told him I would go to the Academy and he said that I should come as soon as possible," I said before looking up at him. His gaze was intense. Concern and anger fighting for dominance.

"I really wish he would stop sending you messages in your sleep," he said.

"It wasn't so bad," I replied. A lot nicer than seeing Anton murder people. His brow creased and he turned away from me. I wondered how much he could see. How much he heard. If he knew Clay's—

"Presence was so comforting!" he snapped moving back towards the window and jerking the curtains back. "I'm not so starved that my telepathy has been affected." He clasped his hands behind his back and glared out the window, eyes narrowing against the light.

"You're upset," I said.

"Apparently," he said sharply, "Disproportionately so, I think." I tilted my head to the side. He shook his head unclasped his hands to rub his face.

"I don't like that he makes you feel at ease. Have you forgotten what he did to me?" he said.

"It's not his fault his coven cursed you. He was only a child."

"Not that! He tortured me to within an inch of my life. He spent the last two months trying to take you away from me and he's trying again now!" There was a subtle edge of hysteria in his voice. I stepped forward, heedless of danger and took his face in my hands. His eyes were wide with something like panic. It wasn't an expression I had seen on his face before. It was so...human.

"I'm not going to leave you, Zane," I whispered. He stared into my eyes for a moment before casting his gaze to the side.

"But what if...what if you go to the Academy and decide you like it there?" His eyes came back to mine. "What if you decide that you agree with their ideology?" He reached up and covered my hands with his. "What if being there makes you realize that you're better off without me?" he asked. I smiled at him and reached up on my tiptoes so that we were nose to nose.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," I murmured feeling the cool, smooth skin of his face beneath my fingers. His brow creased. My smile widened and I said, "I realized that a long time ago and I'm still here." His expression lightened and he let out a scoff that almost sounded like a laugh.

"I love you," he said pulling my hands away from his face and leaning forward.

"I love you too," I replied closing the space between us. Our lips met and my heart leaped in my chest. It had been so long the sensation felt brand new. The tip of his tongue skimmed my bottom lip and I shivered. My hands moved to his chest and I grasped handfuls of his shirt. He pulled me closer. His right hand pressed against my lower back and his left closed around my throat.