Page 6 of The Immortal’s Curse (Bound to the Immortals #2)

DARCIE

Maine

“You’re cutting out again, Dad!” I drop onto Jameson's lumpy couch, phone clutched to my ear as static hisses back at me like an angry cat. “Did you say something about a museum?”

A pause—then his voice breaks through, clearer this time. “Yes! The team in the South Pacific uncovered pottery shards from the first millennium. Absolutely stunning work.”

“Sounds like a blast.” I chuckle. Dad’s the only person I know who could get hyped over broken pottery.

“I wish you were here,” he admits. “It’s strange not having you around.”

“Yeah.” My eyes drift to the photo hanging on the Jamesons’ family wall. “It’s strange for me, too.”

Like Kayla, Dad hadn’t questioned my abrupt return to Maine, but it stung when he didn’t change his post-Christmas plans to visit his colleague in Italy despite my return. I’d hoped we might reconnect, settle back into a routine .

He asked me to tag along on the trip, but I declined. I worked too hard to return to Maine; I’m not interested in leaving again.

"So, how's your Saturday going?" Dad asks.

I shake away my sad thoughts and answer, “Good.”

I’m glad Dad’s enjoying himself and travelling. Especially after his last doctor’s appointment confirmed his cancer is gone. While I regret many things about meeting the Immortals, making the deal with Lome to cure Dad is not one of them.

“Do you have any fun plans for the night?”

I glance toward the kitchen. "Just dinner at Kayla’s.”

Kevin glances up from the cutting board, brow arching slightly at the sound of his sister's name. I flash him a small smile, then look away.

"Are you cooking?" Dad asks.

“Yup. Pot Roast.”

“Oh, man.” He groans. “I miss your cooking.”

I laugh. “You’re in Italy , surrounded by world-class restaurants.”

"I’m a simple eater. Give me your cooking over truffle risotto any day."

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. "Well, you’ll be back soon. I’ll cook something when you get in."

"I can’t wait."

The conversation lulls. I open my mouth to say something to keep the conversation going, but my mind goes blank. Dad and I have never been great at talking for long stretches on the phone. Neither of us is what you’d call chatty.

"Alright, sweetheart, I’ve gotta run," he says as the background buzz of voices grows louder. "Say hi to Kayla and her family for me."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too, Darcie."

The call ends. I toss the phone onto the end table, push off the couch, and wander into the kitchen .

"My dad says hi," I say, leaning my back against the counter.

"Mhm," Kevin mutters, focused on cutting the potatoes.

Tonight’s dinner is our third official date, and I have to admit, things still feel a little… awkward between us.

It’s not bad. Just different. Like my brain hasn’t quite accepted the shift from Kevin, my childhood friend, to Kevin, my boyfriend . Whenever he holds my hand or kisses me, something feels... off. Like I’m playing a part I haven’t rehearsed.

I think I’ve done a decent job hiding it. But the way he won’t look at me right now makes me wonder…

I force a cheerful tone, “Dad will be home in a couple of weeks. It’ll be nice to have him back.”

"Kayla will be bummed," Kevin replies, tone flat. "She likes crashing at your place."

I shrug. "She can still stay over anytime. Dad won’t mind."

"Will he care that we’re dating?"

I blink. "What?"

Kevin sets the knife down with a quiet clink and finally meets my eyes. "Why didn’t you mention me to your dad?"

I blink, caught off guard by his tense expression. "I did. Sort of. I said I was at Kayla’s and that I’d be here for dinner."

"Exactly. You left me out."

I frown. "Is that a problem?"

He lets out a short, humorless laugh. "Well, it isn’t great."

His gaze pierces mine.

My stomach knots. "You’re mad."

"I’m upset," he corrects.

"Why?"

He takes another deep breath, as if bracing himself for a blow. “Does your dad know we’re dating?”

I stiffen. At the same time, my stomach drops as it all clicks.

“No,” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t told him yet.”

His eyes flash with disappointment. “Any reason why? ”

“Honestly? He’s not here and….” I shrug. “I guess I planned to tell him in person.”

I chew my bottom lip. It’s a lame excuse, but I don’t have a better one.

Kevin nods slowly, disappointment in every line of his face. “I told my parents about us right away. Mom was thrilled. She told me she’s been hoping for us to get together since high school.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I just figured you’d… I don’t know.” He picks up a rinsed carrot and shrugs. “I know you and your dad are close.”

“We are. I just… I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Kevin slices the carrot, avoiding my gaze. “It’s not. I just thought you’d tell him.”

Guilt hits like a sucker punch.

Kevin’s been great… sweet, thoughtful, and all in on our relationship since our first date, after which he asked me to be his girlfriend.

So why haven’t I told Dad?

“I’ll tell him next time he calls.”

“No.” Kevin looks up and shakes his head. “Forget I mentioned it. Tell him when you’re ready.”

I search his eyes and can tell he means it. My heart squeezes, and I smile softly. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” He sets the knife down and walks over to me. His lips lift into a half-smile. “I’m sure.”

Kevin holds out his arms. I hesitate for a millisecond before I step into his embrace.

His arms wrap around my back, and mine circle his waist. I rest the side of my face on his chest, listen to his heartbeat, and tell myself that I’m lucky.

Kevin’s been nothing but attentive since we started dating. He’s shown up at the coffee shop to see me when I work. He texts me first thing in the morning to say hi. He’s planned all three of our dates.

Kevin has made it clear that he’s into me and wants to maximize our time together before he returns to college for the spring semester. I’m grateful his winter break is three weeks longer than St. Phillip’s, giving us more time together.

I need to make sure he knows how much I care about him before he leaves. We haven’t talked about the logistics of what will happen when he goes back to school, but I’m sure it will be fine. In five months, it will be summer, and he will be back.

And I’ll have a better idea of what my next step in life will be. I smile and tighten my arms around his waist.

“Darcie Abernathy,” he murmurs above my head, “you have no idea what you do to me.”

I chuckle. “What do you mean?”

“I’m crazy about you,” he says, his voice soft and serious. “And it’s making me act... well… crazy.”

My cheeks flush. “You aren’t acting crazy.”

His chin brushes my hair as he shakes his head. “Crazier than I’ve ever been over any girl.”

My smile falters. “I thought things were going well between us.”

“They are.” He leans back and lifts a hand to my chin, tilting my head back so I meet his gaze. “I just can’t believe I actually got the girl.”

My eyes flutter closed as he captures my lips with his.

The kiss starts off soft, gentle. Kevin’s lips move against mine with a tentative affection.

This is how all of our kisses have been.

Our relationship is new. We’re feeling each other out.

Neither of us wants to move too fast and risk damaging what’s happening between us.

We’ve been friends for years. There’s plenty of time to learn how to pursue more.

But then, something changes.

One moment, Kevin’s lips move against mine with sweet caresses. Then, the hand resting against my back presses me closer, and his head tilts. The kiss deepens, and my stomach flips.

I slide my arms up and rest my hands on his shoulders. My heart races as his tongue slips past my lips. Sparks light up my mind. Desire flows in my veins.

A woodsy evergreen scent fills my nostrils.

Strong muscular arms wrap around me, holding me in a lap as a perfect mouth devours me with unbridled lust.

Des’s groans of want echo in my ears as his mouth devours me.

My eyes snap open. Guilt slams into my chest right as a throat clears.

“Ah hem.”

Kevin jerks away, pulling his arms back.

I exhale a tiny sigh of relief and turn around.

Kayla stands in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the garage, grinning with wicked amusement.

“Oh, no. Don’t mind me.” She waves her hand over us with a twirl. “Carry on with the very entertaining show. I’m sure Mom and Dad would love to see it.”

On cue, Mr. and Mrs. Jameson walk in behind her, their arms full of grocery bags.

“Darcie!” Mrs. Jameson beams, readjusting a stuffed brown paper bag against her curvy hip. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

My face burns. “Hi, Mrs. Jameson. Mr. Jameson.”

"Good to see you, Darcie!" Mr. Jameson sets his bags on the kitchen table, then straightens and adjusts his glasses when he turns back to me. "Are you staying for dinner?"

“I already told you,” Kevin huffs. “Darcie and I are making dinner tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right. We completely forgot.” Mrs. Jameson flashes me a smile. “Silly us. ”

“We’ll put the groceries away and then get out of your hair,” Mr. Jameson says, nudging his wife with his elbow.

“We’ll do it,” Kevin says, reaching for the bags.

His parents share an amused glance. His mom asks, “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” He grits out. “I’m sure.”

“Okay, thank you.” She shoots me a wink before handing over her bags. “Have fun cooking, you too.”

“But not too much fun,” Mr. Jameson adds.

My cheeks burn hotter.

“ Dad ,” Kevin groans.

His parents chuckle, but head upstairs without any more teasing remarks.

Kayla moves and sits at the kitchen table, facing us with a grin still plastered across her face.

Kevin scowls. “Go away, Kayla.”

“Excuse me? This is my house, too. And she —” she points at me “—is my best friend.”

“And we’re on a date,” he snaps. “Which you’re ruining.”

“Whoa. Rude much?”

He groans. “Kayla…”

“Ugh, fine. I can take a hint.” She stands with a dramatic eye roll. “Lucky for you, Josh is expecting a call, so I’ll leave you two alone. Talk to you later, Darcie.”

She flings her braid over her shoulder and leaves the kitchen, stomping up the wooden stairs toward her bedroom.

I watch her go with a frown. Kayla broke up with Josh not too long ago after realizing she didn’t want to be in a serious relationship, but the two of them reconnected when they ran into each other on campus earlier this week.

I haven’t had the chance to ask her for details, but it seems like they’re trying to work things out. I hope they do. Josh is a nice guy. I think he could be good for Kayla .

“God, she’s annoying,” Kevin mutters, transferring the sliced carrots into a roasting pan on the stove.

I chuckle and grab the plate of diced potatoes. “Hey, that’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“I feel sorry for you.”

I walk over to the pot and nudge his shoulder.

He catches my free hand and laces our fingers. “Still want to stay for dinner even though my family is determined to cramp my style?”

I smile. “Of course.”

The Jamesons were like second parents to me growing up. I love spending time with them.

“Good.” He kisses my fingers before releasing my hand. “I’ll put the groceries away. Can you work on the salad?”

“Sure.” I open the fridge and reach for the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers.

Kevin’s fingers graze my lower back as he leans next to me, putting away a carton of eggs. My skin tingles. The sensation remains as I grab a new cutting board from the counter and start to assemble the salad.

We fall into a comfortable silence. I chop, scrape, and toss the ingredients in Mrs. Jameson’s bamboo salad bowl. Kevin empties all the grocery bags his parents left behind, then puts the roast and vegetables in the oven.

He sets a timer on the microwave. Then, he crosses his arms and leans against the counter, watching me.

“So… I’ve been wondering something…” he trails off.

Nerves flutter in my stomach. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Did…um… Did Kayla tell you where she wants the family to go for my graduation trip?”

I blink and turn my neck to look at him. “No. Where does she want to go?”

“Iceland.” He snorts. “Reykjavik, specifically.”

I laugh, thinking he’s joking. His frown says otherwise .

“Wait.” I straighten, lowering the knife in my hands. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” He shakes his head. “Apparently, they have great spas.”

Laughter bursts from my throat.

The idea of the Jameson family in Iceland during the summer is hilarious. There’s a very short window in Maine where the weather outside is more than tolerable. I doubt Kayla has thought through her suggestion. She hates the cold.

I turn back and grab another cucumber, still chuckling. “I’m sure you’ll have fun. Be sure to take a picture with an iceberg.”

“Ha ha.”

I can’t stop hilarious images from forming in my mind. I’m about to share one when a sharp pain shoots through my hand.

I glance down and gasp. I drop the knife and cradle my sliced hand to my chest.

Kevin rushes to my side. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I pant. “It’s just a cut.”

“Let me see.” He takes my hand gently, turning it over. He frowns. “It’s deep. We should go to the hospital.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve had worse.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

Sensing he wants to insist, I hold his gaze, trying to hide my discomfort from my face. “Seriously, Kevin. I’m good. It just needs a bandage.”

Seconds pass. Eventually, he sighs. “Fine. Hang tight. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

I exhale. “Thank you.”

He nods and rushes out of the kitchen. The moment he turns the corner, I wince and look down at my injured palm, cursing myself for being so clumsy.

What is wrong with me?

Cutting my hand just now was an accident, but it’s one of many that’ve been happening lately .

First, I fell down the stairs and twisted my ankle on my second day back in town. Then, I burned my forearm by reaching across the stove and brushing against a pot of boiling water.

I slammed my finger in a drawer while putting away dishes. And I’ve stubbed my toe on the same damn dresser three times in one week. Same foot. Same toe.

As much as I want to deny it, I’ve been on edge since I returned to Maine.

Every day, I remind myself that I’m safe. It’s been weeks since I left Greece, and there’s been no sign of Immortal rebels skulking around town.

I got what I wanted since Des carried me across the threshold of that Grecian mansion. I’m back to living a normal life—a safe life.

With each day, I am farther and farther removed from the Original Immortals and the twisted politics that endangered my life.

And yet… part of me can’t shake the feeling that this reprieve is temporary—that the world I left behind isn’t done with me.

But maybe I’m just being paranoid.

Maybe the constant prickling awareness that hovers over me day and night like an ominous cloud is just a side effect of the trauma I was tossed into against my will.

Or maybe... something’s about to drag me back into the Immortals’ world, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.