Page 20 of Wolf's Forbidden Curse

“Vamos a la casa de mi abuela,” he said. “Ella necesita ayuda.”

“¿Ella está bien?”

“Sí. Todo está bien.”

But something about how his knuckles turned white from his tight grip on the steering wheel told me all was not well. I tried not to panic, reminding myself that Santos was a sweet kid who wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, and we drove on. When we came to a house in the clearing of some trees, he put the car in park and told me to stay there. The house had strange symbols painted on the brick and there were metal sculptures arranged in a circular pattern on the front lawn. I stifled a laugh.

“¿De verdad? ¿Tu abuela es una bruja, sí?” I asked him if his grandmother was a witch.

Santos eyed me suspiciously and said nothing as he got out of the car.

“Espera aquí por favor,” he asked me to wait, and I nodded in response.

As he walked away, I recalled some of the rumors I’d heard around town about Santos’s family. He wasn’t very popular at school, partially because some of the families in the area believed he and his kin were cursed. Apparently, Santos’s ancestors used to be incredibly wealthy farmers who had better luck than many thought possible. Then, one day, all their fields were burnt, and they lost everything. Ever since then, there had been an air of suspicion surrounding them, which even poor, young Santos couldn’t escape. The most popular rumor was that Santos’s abuela was a witch who would cast a nasty spell on you if you crossed her.

Not that I believed in any of it. Curses weren’t real, neither were witches, and luck didn’t come and go like some fickle lover. Now that I was sitting in front of Santos’s abuela’s house, however, I was starting to wonder whether or not she was playing into the rumors a little with her decor. Maybe it was her way of keeping people off her lawn—which I could respect.

An hour passed, during which time I heard a lot of strange noises coming from inside the house. I’d thought about going to investigate multiple times, but Santos’s plea echoed in my mind, so I stayed put. When I heard what sounded like a scream, however, I knew I had to go check on my old student. I took my pocket knife off my key ring and got out of the car. My weapon of choice wasn’t much, but it made me feel marginally safer. As I approached the house, I heard another scream. This one was louder and more desperate. I started running and burst through the door just in time to see a flash of light that nearly blinded me.

I put my hand up to block the brightness and ended up stumbling backward down the patio steps. I barely managed to keep my footing when something hit me in the chest. It felt as powerful as a brick but also as narrow as a dart. The air left my lungs all at once, and I collapsed to my knees. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and now a warmth was spreading across my ribs. I clawed at my shirt, worried I’d been shot, but felt no blood.

Bracing myself with my hands, I was finally able to fill my lungs. My stomach muscles clenched and I knew I was going to throw up, but I didn’t want to get caught snooping around the house. I had this sickening feeling that whatever I’d just interrupted was not meant to be seen by anyone besides those involved. I knew Santos would never hurt me, but I’d never met his abuela before. If she was as scary as everyone said—if she could really put a spell on me…

I crawled to the nearest tree and retched behind it, then sat back on my heels and took a few labored breaths. Once I was feeling better, I wiped my mouth off with the back of my sleeve and used the tree to help me up to my feet. A cool breeze rushed past and brought with it even more sensations of relief. Eventually, I was able to walk back to the truck, sliding inside right before Santos appeared once more in the doorway. He ran to it and got inside without a word.

“¿Estás lista?” he asked.

“Sí,” I croaked. I was ready. “Estoy lista.”

He put the car in drive and took me to the bus station. Because I still had no idea what had happened inside the house, I had no way of asking Santos for any information. Plus, I feared I might get him in trouble if it was discovered I had seen something I shouldn’t have. Instead, when he dropped me off, I simply thanked him and told him to take care of himself.

He looked sad as he drove away, but I felt nothing but relief. The pain in my chest was gone, and I felt a newfound vigor.

Whatever happened at that creepy house that night was over, and now I was on my way back home to the States. The hard part—getting away from my family—was accomplished.

Everything was going to be smooth sailing from here on.

CHAPTER 9

RORY

Saturday afternoon stretched on and on. I wasn’t even supposed to be working that day, which made the shift feel even longer. I’d taken my manager's offer to come in that weekend for overtime because being at the house was starting to depress me. Nic had been griping at me for days now, and Cornelius hadn’t stopped sulking about a job interview that went poorly. The only one I could even tolerate being around these days was Matt, but he was so busy getting ready for summer school classes that I knew I wouldn’t see much of him this weekend.

Throwing myself into work was the only distraction I could think of, but after another long day on the docks, I was ready to get the fuck out of there. I clocked out the second I could and changed out of my fishy clothes.

In the parking lot, I ran into Jackson, who was eagerly hurrying to his car.

“Hey, Rory!” he said. “Just the man I wanted to see. I’m meeting Jen at Smart Choice! You want to join us?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you said you were going to give Jen another chance to chat up the bartender.” I laughed. “That does sound like a tempting offer…”

“Then give in,” he said, waving me over to his car. “I’ll even offer to drive us over there. You can leave your car here and catch a rideshare home or something.”

I hesitated for a second but then thought about the alternative. If I didn’t go with Jackson to the bar, I would simply end up going back to the house and sitting on the couch drinking beer, hoping Nic wasn’t going to come pick a fight with me for no reason. No, thank you.

“Yeah, alright,” I said. “That actually does sound kind of fun. And who can pass up an offer for a ride to the bar?”

“Great! Let’s do it!” He grinned, and I got into his car. He turned the country music up loud, and despite my general disdain for contemporary country, I actually got into it. It was another beautiful evening at Solara Bay and I had three days off in a row coming up. It was like a mini-vacation, and I was determined to enjoy every minute of it. My only regret was that I hadn’t been able to shower before heading to the bar. I tucked my nose into my shirt as we came to a stop in front of Smart Choice and breathed in with a grimace.

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