Page 20

Her expression was tense and mirrored my own... Guilt, like a child who was caught doing something they knew was wrong. Then I noticed that Polly was hunched over an open kitchen drawer, her hands frozen in their busy work.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Nothing!" But Polly averted her eyes and moved her hands behind her back. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to talk with Luc."

"I..." The movement of his lips flashed through my mind, but he wasn't forming words. "I-I did."

"Well, that didn't take long," Polly muttered, and her brow began to knot up as she inspected my face.

Can she tell?

whispered a paranoid voice in my head.

Again, the memory of only a moment ago flashed up.

.

.

The heat of his arms wrapped around me, my hands tangled in his hair.

.

.

Even though I knew she was just trying to distract from what she had been caught doing, it worked anyway.

My cheeks burned, and my brain seemed to short out.

"I , uh... I... I wanted to come... and tell... tell you right away," I lied pathetically.

Polly began to approach me slowly, eyeing me with suspicion. "You okay? You seem... worked up. He didn't try anything, did he? If he hurt you, I swear—"

Still unable to form the necessary words, I just shook my head.

Polly didn't look convinced. "Then what is wrong?"

"He... Luc... L-Luc told me why the Beast..." As I thought of it, I could hear the sound of its claws clicking on the floor as it followed me on the other side of the wall. "He told me why it's after me."

"Really?" The lines in Polly's forehead suddenly eased away as she quickly crossed the distance between us. "Holy shit! What'd he say?"

"He t-told me that it's actually his curse that got passed onto me."

A flame lit behind Polly's eyes, and her face turned so red that it made her hair look pale. I knew immediately I hadn't worded that right.

"No, wait—"

"He admitted it?" she hissed. "That he cursed you?"

"No! I meant, it's his curse, but he passed it on to me... B-But! But he didn't mean to! It wasn't... It wasn't something he could control."

Polly narrowed her eyes. "What does that change?"

"You're not listening! It was his curse, not him."

"No, you're not listening to the words coming out of your own damn mouth! It's his curse. Even if he didn't 'mean' it, it's still his fault."

My words hitched in my throat, and I was forced to pause. When it was phrased like that it sounded damning, but I knew that wasn't true. It couldn't be.

"No... no, you're wrong. He tried to stop it." There was an achy pang in my chest as the truth set in. Luc had lied to try to change my future, lead the Beast away... "He tried to protect me."

She looked at me for a long moment. "You've got to be kidding."

"He did."

"Right," Polly said, rolling her eyes. "And just why did this curse befall you? Did he have some slick explanation for that?"

I felt my own brow fold in as I nodded.

"When he read my fortune the day I moved in... it wasn't true. He was lying. He told me that I was destined to be alone because he didn't want to tell me the truth... that... t-that..." It was a struggle to find a way to phrase the awkward truth.

I didn't want to say the words—well, just that one word, really—aloud. Even thinking about it made the heat in my face intensify.

"That what?" Polly snapped impatiently.

"That the cards said he was going to fall in l-love with me."

Whatever Polly had been expecting, it wasn't that. Her sneer fell away, leaving only a blank shock. "Excuse me?"

"The cards said he was going to fall in love with me," I repeated, even though I knew she had heard my words. "That's why it came after me. Because curse targets anyone he might love, and then... kills them."

Polly just stood blinking for a bit, before her breathing began to come in deep, shuddering gasps.

"Polly?" I reached out to touch her arm.

Swatting my arm away, she swivelled around and headed back into the kitchen. She returned to the open drawer and began to rifle around inside.

I tried again. "Polly?"

She ignored me; she was too busy digging around, searching for something. When that drawer didn't seem to have what she was looking for, she closed it and opened another.

"Polly," I repeated sternly. "What the hell are you doing?"

She stayed silent, pulling open yet another drawer, but this one seemed to be a success. "A-ha!" she shouted, triumphant. She snatched something from inside and slammed it shut, spinning to face me.

My eyes widened as I saw the huge kitchen knife in her hand. Our gazes locked again, and something twisted in my stomach. "Why do you have a knife?" I asked, trying to remain calm, but my voice betrayed my unease.

"Because I'm going to end this," Polly muttered, and stepped forward... heading straight for Luc's room.

"No. No. No no no no." I hopped in front of her, trying to block her way. "Are you insane? You can't!"

She tried to push me aside, but I leapt back instead, my shoulder slamming into Luc's closed bedroom door. Not knowing what else to do, I pressed my back into it, grabbed onto the frame, and made myself into a barricade.

"Rachel," Polly hissed, her knuckles whitening around the knife's handle. "Get the hell out of my way!"

"No!" My voice was shrill. "This is crazy! You need to stop and think for a minute!"

"I have. I have thought about this for years. Ever since Lillian's death, I've thought and pondered and wondered about how everything could have gone so wrong. Now I know how. Now I know why. It's. Luc's. Fault."

"You're wrong. Please, just put the knife down. We can talk about this..." Releasing my grip on the doorframe, I reached for the knife but Polly yanked it back.

"You said it yourself," she snarled. "His curse targets anyone he loves. He loved Lillian, and now she's dead. It's his fault. It's his curse, it's his fault. Case closed."

"You know it's not like that... "

"Goddammit, Rachel! How do you not see this? It's his fucking fault, alright?" Polly screamed, shaking out her wild red hair. "If he hadn't come into her life—or your life for that matter—none of this would've happened. He's the one who brought all this supernatural shit with him! If it weren't for him, she'd still be alive..."

I was about to retort when the door gave away behind me, causing me to stumble back. Trying to stop myself, I dug my nails into the wood of the doorframe, but thankfully something broad and... warm... blocked my fall.

"That's not true," came a gravelly voice from above me.

My head snapped up. Luc was towering over me. I was leaning against him. The heat of his chest forced the memory of our illicit encounter into my mind, and in a moment of panic, I leapt away.

"Don't!" Polly shrieked.

My eyes snapped forwards, catching the horror on her face and the shine of the blade that was now in my path. Shit. No. There was no time to turn...

Something grabbed my waist and twisted me away, just in time.

"Watch it!" Luc snapped, holding me to his side. He glanced back at Polly, then down at the knife in her hand. "What the hell are you doing with a knife? Is that my paring knife?"

Polly, once again, looked like an animal caught in the headlights.

.

.

But only for a moment, before her eyes narrowed with renewed determination and she lunged for him.

Luc barely dodged out of the way, pushing me aside, but Polly quickly caught herself and rounded on him again, knife raised.

He managed to catch her hand and hold it away; Polly jerked and twisted her arm, trying to free herself.

"Stop!" I screamed, throwing myself between them. Wrenching Polly's hand free from Luc's, I shoved her back. She stumbled slightly but quickly regained her balance.

Fire burned in Polly's eyes, and I was worried that she might just consider me collateral damage and continue her assault... But, thankfully, she lowered her arm, though her glare still smouldered.

There was a rush of hot breath by my ear, and I realized Luc had crouched behind me, shielding himself from Polly. "Tell her to drop the knife."

"Tell that bastard to get away from you," Polly countered. "And then I'll—"

"I'll get away from him when you drop the knife," I shouted over her. "Better yet, how about you just give it to me?"

Her eyes darted between me and Luc for a second, but finally, Polly offered the knife to me, twisting it so I could take it by the handle.

"Thank you," I said, tucking it carefully behind my back, in case she tried to grab for it again.

"What were you even trying to do?" Luc said, stepping back from me now that it was safe, raising himself to his full height.

Polly just cocked an eyebrow.

He looked at her, eyes wide. "Were you seriously trying to kill me?"

"Stop," I muttered, shooting him a look over my shoulder. I felt my cheeks burn again as our eyes met, but I tried to push the tangle of feelings aside. "Let me talk to her."

His eyes flickered with some hidden emotion for a second before he just nodded.

I turned back to Polly; she was glaring at me like I had betrayed her. "Polly, this has to stop. You know he didn't mean to curse me, and killing him won't solve anything."

"How do you know?" she shot back, her glare deepening. "If it's his curse, who says that it won't just end if we kill him?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but... actually, I couldn't refute that theory. What if that was all it took? But thinking about it—even if it was just a split second—made me feel sick. Polly seemed smug at the confusion that was surely written all over my face.

"It wouldn't work," Luc said, finally, when I couldn't think of a retort. We both looked at him. His head was hanging against his chest, his long black hair falling across his green eyes that were fixed on the floor. "I've tried that already."

There was an aching in his voice that sent a deep pain rippling through my chest. The smug look on Polly's face was quickly wiped away.

"Luc..." I started, speaking softly.

"I don't want to get into that right now," he said, his head snapping up. "I just came out here to tell you, Polly, that you're wrong. I wasn't the only supernatural element in your sister's life. Lillian was a Lanceur. Like me."

"What did you say?" Polly hissed, bristling like he had accused her sister of being something insulting.

But what was a Lanceur? This was the first time Luc had brought it up, and the first time I had ever heard that term. It sounded... French, from what I could guess.

"Is that like a witch or something?" I asked.

"Something like that," Luc said, a sad smile crossing his face.

I could almost see him picturing himself on a broomstick with a pointed hat.

"We used to be called that, but we have many more names now. Back home, in Montreal, we called ourselves Lanceurs. Some people use Caster, some use Witch or Warlock or just Psychic. It varies."

"You made my sister into a witch?" Polly said, aghast.

Luc furrowed his brow, his almost infinite patience waning. "I didn't make her into anything. She was one when I met her. That's how we met."

Polly didn't have a smart response for that.

"Anyway," Luc said, watching Polly to see if she was going to make any more interruptions. "She already had plenty of supernatural influence in her life. In fact, that was kind of the reason we broke up."

"If you're a Lanceur, too, why would you break up with her for that?" I asked.

"Because she... she lost control."

"What?" I breathed; I peeked at Polly to make sure she wasn't about to leap into action, but she seemed too interested to be violent now. She leaned in but said nothing; her eyes were tapered in a glare threatening him not to stop.

He didn't. "Like everything in this world, there's a darker side. When I met Lillian she was just like me, doing readings, healing people... that sort of everyday, helpful stuff. Nothing questionable. But she had this desire to just know everything. She read every book she could get her hands on, studied and memorized it all.

"At first, I admired her drive, but after a while, I realized something had changed. It... it seemed to consume her. It was all she did, all she talked about, all she cared about. She pushed away her friends, became even more secretive and paranoid. It was eating away what I loved about her, and she was changing into someone I didn't know. And then... I found out she had begun experimenting with the darker stuff. That's when I freaked out." He squeezed his eyes shut like he was retracing the memory of it in his head.

"That stuff... it's unbelievably dangerous. It's not just yourself you put at risk, you're endangering everyone you've ever known. Her selfishness horrified me. I couldn't put up with it anymore, so I had to break up with her. After that... well, I only have a slight idea of what happened to her." He looked at Polly.

Polly diverted her eyes again—they shimmered momentarily in the light. "So, not only was my sister a witch, she was studying dark magic?"

Luc nodded, his face solemn.

Polly looked like she had been struck dumb. Swallowing hard, she staggered away from us, over to the futon and flopped down on it.

With Polly no longer on the attack, I could finally step away from Luc, much to my relief; being so close to him made my heart beat like wild.

I tried to turn and look at him, but the minute our eyes met, I felt my face go hot once again.

Red burned in his own cheeks, and we both looked away from each other.

Thankfully Polly was distracted; she hadn't caught my shame. I didn't want to think about her reaction if she found out about our kiss.

Not wanting to risk any more blushing, I stared at my feet as I asked him a question. "Do... do you think that Lillian was the one who cursed you?"

That question seemed to snap Polly of her daze; her brow folded in, looking incensed I had even suggested such a thing. "Are you kidding? She would never hurt someone. And, of course, there's the fact that she's dead. How could she be responsible?"

"I-I mean," I stuttered as I shrank under her furious glare. "Before she died, maybe she tried to curse him and it backfired, or something?"

"I... I don't think so," Luc said softly.

I didn't dare look at him, so I kept my eyes down, listening intently.

"Though Lillian's insatiable curiosity was her biggest fault," he continued, "I can't imagine she'd actually try and kill anyone. She... she wouldn't do that."

"Are you sure? You said it started after her death—"

"It might have. I mean, I don't actually know. But it might not have started with her... she's just the earliest victim of the curse I know about. It might be changing its patterns because it's getting stronger, or something happened; curses have the tendency to change and evolve over time."

"But—"

"Drop it, Rachel," Polly said brusquely.

It was my turn to glare at her. "But what about the lock of hair we found?"

Polly rolled her eyes. "That was just a memento thing. My parents exchanged locks of hair before—"

"What lock of hair?" Luc interrupted.

I snuck a quick look at Luc. Fortunately, he was looking at Polly, not me, so my face didn't burst into flame. "We found a lock of your hair in Lillian's things, in a little velvet pouch with a bunch of other strange stuff. What if that stuff were the components for some sort of curse?"

His emerald eyes turned to me, and once again I had to look away.

"What else was in it?" he asked. "And where did you find it?"

"Uh..." I struggled to remember, my mind dominated by Luc's eyes. "It was in a secret drawer under the bed. And there was a little scroll of paper, some rocks, leaves... and a vial of something."

There was a moment of quiet, and I wondered what Luc was thinking... but I couldn't bring myself to look up and check his face.

Finally, after several dragging seconds, he spoke: "That definitely sounds like a spell but not a curse. It sounds like a protection spell, actually... and a powerful one at that. What did the contents of the vial look like?"

I closed my eyes, trying to remember the details. "It was dark, almost black, and it looked like it had once been a liquid but dried up."

Luc sighed. "That was probably her blood. Yeah, that's definitely a protection spell."

A shudder rippled through me as I remember the fact that I had held the vial in my hand... a vial of Lillian's dried up blood. A gag rose in my throat, but I choked it back.

"See?" Polly said, sounding pleased with herself despite the grim description. "Lillian wouldn't hurt anyone."

I just shot her a scowl, but Luc wasn't even paying attention.

He muttered to himself, his eyes—once again—fixed on something distant. "...but why would she cast such a powerful protection spell on me...?"

Even though he wasn't talking to me, I answered him. "Well, you two were in a..." the word caught in my throat, "...r-relationship." Somehow, even though it was well known at this point, saying it aloud was hard. "She cared about you."

"Yeah, but..." Luc still looked confused. "It's a very powerful spell. It just seems, well, excessive."

I felt a chill run over my arms, goosebumps erupting in its wake. "Maybe she knew you had been cursed."

Luc didn't say anything. He just kept staring at the floor.

Another chill, sharper than the first, cut through me. "Maybe she knew who cursed you! Like a jealous boyfriend, she dated after you, who went nuts after he realized she wasn't over you or something!"

"It's possible," Luc said, but he sounded like he didn't think it was.

"If she had a boyfriend, I didn't know about it," Polly piped in.

"You didn't know I even existed until Lillian and I had been dating for six months," Luc reminded her.

"Yeah, but she was staying with me at the time. She was never out of my sight."

"What about your earlier girlfriends?" I suggested to Luc, trying to gloss over Polly's negative attitude. "Could it have been one of them? A jealous ex or something?"

"I've thought of that, but the attacks on Lillian didn't start until after I had broken up with her. If it was a jealous ex, wouldn't they have gone after her right away, not when she was out of the picture?" he offered, but then his face crumpled up. "And anyway, I haven't been able to contact any of them." His voice wavered, uneasy, like he feared that the reason they couldn't be contacted was because they had suffered similar fates.

My shoulders hunched in defeat; another theory dashed.

"Anyway, it's pointless to guess," he continued with a sigh. "There's no way we'll ever find out what Lillian was thinking."

I was about to agree, but her diaries suddenly sprung to mind.

Those would have answers.

But as I opened my mouth, to tell him about them, I felt a sudden pang of doubt.

They had been left in my bag, which wasn't here. It had to still be next door, and the bag—and the diaries—were probably torn to shreds by now. Damn.

I pressed my hand to my forehead.

It felt slightly warm.

I wasn't sure if that was residual heat from my blush or if my brain was about to overheat. There were so many tangled threads, I wasn't sure what was even going on anymore.

"So we still don't know who is doing this. We don't even know where to start looking."

"Pretty much. And since we can't leave the apartment, we can't exactly do any investigating." Luc sighed.

He brushed past me and headed into the kitchen.

He reached into the cupboard to retrieve a glass, then turned towards the fridge.

"And since I don't have my powers, we are pretty much shit out of—"

He made the smallest of movements towards the fridge, and the door swung open like someone had jerked on the handle. Polly leapt off the couch, and I went stiff where I stood. A scream died in my throat, coming out as a whine. We all stared at the open fridge in shock.

Polly and I were frozen, listening intently and trying to get a feel for the air, expecting the electric buzz that warned of the Beast's imminent arrival. We shot careful glances at each other, waiting for the first blow to land.

As we were about to collapse under the terror, a crazed smile spread across Luc's face. I stared at him, my mind racing with horror. It leapt into terrible fantasies, fuelled by fear, of me being completely wrong about Luc all along...

"Oh my God—" he breathed, still smiling maniacally. "Oh my God! Yes!"

He slammed the glass onto the counter and ran into his bedroom, leaving the door to the fridge wide open. Polly and I didn't move an inch, stopped dead in place, still waiting for something horrible to happen.

Luc re-emerged a second later with one of his many books in his hand, already open deep in the middle of it. He didn't even notice we were still gripped by panic with his face buried in it. As he walked towards us, his eyes scanned the lines, his finger running over the page.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he cheered, his voice full of glee.

"What is it?!" I said, not sure whether to be pleased or horrified.

"My powers! I know how to get my powers back!" He beamed at us with his eyes shining. His expression faltered slightly as he took in our strained expressions.

It took a moment for the information to set in. We both gaped at him before our bodies fell back under our own command and the realization truly hit us. I shrieked and did a little dance. Even Polly squeaked happily before quickly clapping her hand over her mouth to restrain herself.

"How? How?!" I chirped, happier than I had been in months.

Luc glanced hopefully between us, his eyes glittering. "I just need to regain your trust!"

The expression of quiet thrill fell off Polly's face, transforming into a distasteful sneer. Confusion wiped my own smile away.

"How?" Polly echoed again, scathing disbelief tinting her voice.

"I need you to trust me again," he said, still smiling like we'd suddenly understand and re-join him in enjoying his triumph. "I must've regained some of Rachel's trust—" mid-sentence, his face flushed red "—after we... talked."

Our eyes locked for a moment, and I swear I could see the scene replaying in our eyes. We quickly glanced away.

"S-so..." I said, trying to play off our awkwardness. "If I come to trust you again, then it will undo the binding spell?"

"Well, I think both of you need to trust me. The two of you did the spell together, right?" Luc said, carefully glancing at Polly. "You need to trust me, too."

I also looked at her. As soon as Polly realized she was the centre of attention, she scowled at us both. "Easier said than done," she muttered, and sat back down on the far edge of the futon, purposely turning her back to us.

"Polly!" I gasped, stunned that she was more willing to hold onto her grudge than work towards a solution. I was about to storm over and give her a piece of my mind when I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

"Don't," Luc said, giving me a reassuring smile, pink tinting his cheeks as he quickly withdrew his hand. "The more you push her, the more she's going to resist. She just needs some time. Which is something we have plenty of..." he added, with a hint of sadness, motioning to the apartment that had become our safe-house.

.

.

and our prison cell.

I gave a solemn nod, peering at him out of the corner of my eye; it was like there was a single smouldering coal deep inside that inflamed as soon as I looked at him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He smiled weakly. "Just trust me."

??

So whatever is after Rachel was after Lillian, too...

But why?