The Family Curse (Cursed Wanderers Series: Book 1)

Chapter 16 - The Value of Assistance

Chapter 16

The Value of Assistance

I BLINKED A FEW TIMES as I woke up, trying to find my bearings. I was back in my room, and Kostya was lying beside me on the bed. Talk about déjà vu. “Is this a dream again?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“Do you want it to be a dream?” he said, his voice seductive.

“Kostyantyn,” I sighed, annoyed.

“Ooooh, yes, say my name again, but sloooowly this time.” he purred and I pushed him off the bed for it. “OW!” I laughed while he glared at me, and came to sit by me on the bed again. “No, this isn’t a dream. It’s real.”

“Then, what are you doing in my bed? In my room? Does Matvei know?” I was sure my father would gladly kick his ass over it. Maybe Kara-Freaky-Granma would also join in the ass kicking because of how crazy against she was me and Kostya ever spending time together.

“Yes he does,” he nodded, “but in a few hours he’ll realize how completely against it he is. For now he thinks it’s a good idea.” Kostya grinned at that. “He thinks everything I do is amazing and I deserve a solid gold statue for all of my good deeds.”

“And how did you manage that exactly?” I asked but Kostya ignored me.

“You father said you don’t sleep often, so I’m really feeling proud right now.”

I frowned, staring at the blue sky. Sure, it wasn’t night anymore, so that meant I had actually done some sleeping, but it had been pretty late—or early—when I had gone to sleep. “What time is it?”

“Nine in the morning,” he informed me and I was about to say making me sleep, like about five hours wasn’t that impressive. “But as in Saturday’s 9AM. You slept all day yesterday.”

Whoa, okay, that was slightly unexpected. Eight hours in line was my maximum. I remember once, it was winter and I had gotten late to my foster home because I had detention at school. When I got to the house, my foster parents were gone and there was no way for me to sneak in the house—they were crazy about locking all the windows and breaking any of them to get in could have gotten me in serious trouble. I had ended up spending part of the night in the laundromat and the rest in some shaddy alley, never sleeping. Next day I had went to school, and when I had gotten home after it, my foster parents had acted like nothing had happened. And still that night I had slept less than four hours.

The eight hours in row time was induced by medication after getting beat up by one of my foster dad.

So it was really hard for me to believe I could have slept over twenty four hours in a row. And I had just gotten out of a weird dream with that guy. “Is this a dream?”

“Nope, this is reaaaally real,” he drawled, lifting his hands up in the air.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you drunk?” I asked in disbelief.

“Maybe a little…” he made a little gap with his thumb and forefinger and then giggled throwing his head back. “Okay yeah, I’m totally drunk.”

“Because you slept in the wine cellar?”

“Yup!” he agreed, cheerfully.

Maybe a drunk Kostyantyn would be a cooperative Kostyantyn, the kind that would answer my goddamn questions. “Why exactly did you sleep in the wine cellar? And how are you messing with Matvei’s thought and what are you?”