Page 5 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

“You feign not to want them, but you do. We all do. We are made to consume.” The firelight cut harshly across her russet brown skin, making her fangs and eyes a startling hue.

“Food. Drink. Clothes. Jewels. Family. Love. Time. We are the thirsty lost in a desert, always seeking more, more, more. We take it all, whatever we can get our greedy hands on. You simply do not want to admit it.”

“Because it isn’t true,” I argued, cheeks and neck flushed from more than fear, a sense of shame that bubbled from somewhere deep. “I don’t need anything.”

“Ah.” She smiled, vicious and wicked. “Want, not need, my dear. You know what you need, I will give you that. There is no one better at determining what is or isn’t necessary, but want is unnecessary, and you are utterly poor at that, so…

” She stepped closer. We were near the hearth, where the fire licked my back.

“Here is my offer, Indy Moore. I will let you leave. My wolves will guard you to the edge of the fo rest, and you will live for five long years. I will retrieve you then, on the eve you are to pass.”

“The eve you plan to kill me.” My fingers clutched the hem of the dress, bundled in my hands like a safety blanket, or so Carline believed.

“You will die peacefully in your sleep, that I can promise, and your cousins will never know a day of hunger or strife. Your aunt will retire, young and healthy, to live a long life, and you shall have five wonderful years with them. Then, your soul is mine.” Carline held out her hand, the gold of her eyes so bright the hue engulfed her pupils.

“And you will be with me forever. Do we have a deal?”

My lungs ached for the breaths I deprived them of, enraptured by her promise. “You will grant them better lives in exchange for mine?”

“They will live as well as sovereigns,” she cooed like a mother sharing a lullaby. “As will you. All of you will have everything you could ever want. You will never have a dress of patches or pants with endless broken seams, and little Susannah can have a doll. A real one.”

I looked at Dolly crushed under my arm, her misshapen head and crooked arms.

Carline offered more than I could ever give.

My cousins deserved a life of comfort and plenty.

Aunt Agnes took me in after Mom died, then stayed strong after Uncle Fern passed.

She grew weary. I saw it every day when she sat in the kitchen, believing her family slept.

The sun hit her worn face, reflecting off the gray in her previously golden hair.

She sighed and rubbed her aching muscles that had only known hard labor.

Poor Charlotte yearned for a life of music, having only the worn violin I won off a traveling drunkard.

If we were lucky, she got two pieces of new sheet music a year.

Maude and Susannah learned from the local schoolhouse that wouldn’t teach them past fifteen, if they were lucky.

They would work the fields, too, marry another farmer, and live the same life every day.

They deserved better, and I could finally give them better. I could change the trajectory of their lives in exchange for shortening my own. Was I not selfish to deny them that ?

“Well?” Carline’s smile spread, inhuman, too wide and full of teeth.

I pictured the future, my family eating in a lavish dining room, surrounded by staff that made their lives infinitely better.

Charlotte had a new violin and a stack of music sheets she shifted through.

Aunt Agnes had laugh lines so deep, they spoke of a life full of endless joy.

Maude and Susannah bickered over sweets they had only ever dreamed of.

I wasn’t with them. I stood at the side, watching, wanting to join them.

Carline’s eyes glistened, eerily bright, hungry in a way I had seen before, the look of someone who deceived.

But in that future, I still saw Susannah clutching Dolly, the little monstrosity I sewed together for her. She never cried about not having a real doll. Instead, she sat by me and watched her toy come into being, smiling with pride.

“No deal.” I shoved the dress over Carline’s head.

Clenching the fabric tight, I caught her arms against her sides then shoved. Carline stumbled toward the hearth, where I kicked her chest, sending the demon into the flames. She caught fire faster than an oil lantern, burning brightly and howling alongside her beasts.

During the fiasco, I dropped Dolly and scooped her up before wrenching a fire poker from the hearth, then bolted out the front door.

The wolf was there, jaw open. The beast whimpered when the poker pierced its neck.

I couldn’t yank the poker free. Not what I wanted, but the attack stalled the wolf.

I ran faster than I believed possible, hoping all the while that the forest wouldn’t be my tomb.

“Indy,” Carline sang. “Where are you going, my dear?”

I didn’t know. I almost said yes. I would have given my family what they deserved and passed peacefully, knowing I made their lives infinitely better.

There was no future for me, not one worth clinging to.

I wasn’t any different than my worn clothes, patched and sewed at the seams, always moments away from unraveling.

But I ran still, desperate to escape and yearning for more.

Mist and snow curled around me, too thick to see through. I swatted at the underbrush, ripping through my clothes. Then my cloak caught on a bush. I couldn’t breathe or see or do anything other than tear at the cloak. My numb fingers frantically ripped the fabric from my throat.

“I don’t make deals. Did I mention that?” Carline laughed, sounding as if she had become winter itself. “You are mine because I want you to be. I love broken things, you see.”

Claws slashed across my neck. I shrieked, the pain hot and blood sticky, leaving a trail of red through pristine white. I had to keep moving, had to escape, to get anywhere far from her.

“You are mine, Indy Moore, and you will come home.” Her laughter pursued me through the forest. I didn’t know where I was going, following pure instinct to move, move, move .

The trees towered higher. Dirt and snow crunched beneath my feet, digging into my palms. I dropped Dolly, then snatched her up in my teeth. The underbrush clawed at my cheeks, tearing through hair, and I strayed out of thought, incapable of anything but moving.

Through the trees, a light, and more sprinkled the skyline. I broke past the edge of the forest into an open field, where the moon illuminated the silhouette of a castle in the sky and, in its shadow, a singular door hanging open. I ran through the door that slammed shut behind me.