Page 93 of Cursed

The steam from the bathtub curled and coiled through the air, but it felt more like ice than warmth as it crept along my skin like a lover’s caress turned cruel. I shivered, not just from the chill but from the sensation of something awakening, something ancient stirring beneath the surface of reality.

Voices, soft and insidious, slithered through the air around me, words I couldn’t quite grasp, but that made my heart race with terror.

“Julia Velez,” I breathed, “come forth.” My newfound power straightened my spine and gave me strength, and I reached out with it to draw my mother’s shade forward.

A strange groan filled the air, wretched and haunting, and I fought the urge to run.

The symbols I had drawn, crimson and raw, pulsed with energy—a heartbeat that wasn’t mine.

It was hers.

The rhythm was slow at first. Erratic. Unsteady.

But its strength grew… Slowly. Until the sigils throbbed with a steady pace.

“Mom—”

The water in the tub was still, but as I peered over the edge, I noticed something in the water—

The steam swirled over the tub and it thickened and shimmered as a shape materialized.

A sudden rumble made me bite down on my cheek in surprise and I tasted blood on my tongue.

A splash.

Blood-red water sloshed out of the tub and spilled onto the tiles. The edges of the bloody circle blurred, but my magic held it in place and the shape held. No breaks. No escape.

Good.

I let out a thin scream and then clapped my hand over my mouth as an arm burst through the surface of the water. I recoiled as ice-cold droplets flicked onto my cheek as a pale, water-logged hand with long, sharp red nails gripped the edge.

A second arm shot out and gripped the edge, and the nails scraped against the white porcelain.

Their grip tightened and flexed and a dark shape rose out of the water.

My mother.

Her long black hair clung to her body as she emerged from the bloodied water, and it streamed over her naked flesh in endless rivulets. The sound of dripping water filled my ears and echoed through the room.

Caught between realms, her skin shimmered like glass, and tendrils of steam caressed her wet flesh and wreathed her form. She was beautiful—and terrifying—and I struggled to draw in a full breath as she turned toward me. Scarlet water lapped at her ankles and streamed from her body, and I was mesmerized by this horrific vision.

I’d done it.

She was here.

“Mom—” I croaked.

But it was her eyes that struck me—black and full of rage and bitterness that burned hotter than any flame.

“Romano.”

Her voice was a chilling whisper that sent a jolt of alarm through me.

I stood frozen in place, ensnared in the intensity of her gaze.

This was not what I had expected—this was my nightmare made real—

My stepbrothers’ magic flowed through me, but despite being empowered by this forbidden addition to my own power, I felt my courage weaken under her black-eyed glare.

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