Page 34 of Cursed

I couldn’t help her understand it—she had to figure that out on her own.

Just like we all had.

She flinched beneath my gaze, a tremor threading through her voice as she replied, “I—I don’t know anything about the grimoire—” Her attempt at composure faltered, revealing the cracks in her façade. “Can you— do you know how to open it?”

I sauntered back into the room and gestured vaguely at the door. It swung closed with athudthat echoed in the room and I felt a tiny thrill as Avril flinched.

“What if I do?” I asked. “How long have you been trying to figure it out?”

A glance at her disheveled hair, tangled and unkempt, confirmed my suspicions. Had she even bothered to eat or shower during this fruitless endeavor? A faint trace of guilt flickered within me, but it was quickly snuffed out by my curiosity.

Her gaze tore away from mine. “I— I don’t know—”

“Days spent deciphering its pages, and yet here you stand, empty-handed,” I taunted and relished the way her shoulders tensed under my scrutiny.

“Days—” She seemed confused, but then she shook her head. “No— I only— It’s only been a few hours—”

I watched as her eyes flickered toward the grimoire still lying on the floor.

It really had taken hold of her.

I snorted. “Have you looked at yourself? It looks like you’ve been rolling around in a fire pit. Don’t tell me you tried to burn it.”

Her vulnerability stirred something deep within me— desire mixed with a twisted sort of satisfaction. Avril was out of her depth, and it was devilishly entertaining to watch her squirm.

She rose to her feet and stumbled toward the vanity. She let out an audible gasp as she caught sight of her reflection and she rubbed at a smear of charcoal on her cheek. “Shit— I’m a mess…”

“Yeah, just a bit,” I chuckled. “You should take a shower.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

“And you’ll just— watch me?”

I didn’t reply. Of course I’d be watching.

She glared at me in the mirror and I shrugged. “That’s my price.”

Her lip curled, but I could see something else in her eyes, too.Lust.

She hadn’t forgotten what we’d shared.

Neither had I.

I couldn’t seem to escape it.

“In exchange for your help?”

I shrugged. “Seems fair.”

Avril grasped the edges of her ruined bathrobe and pulled them tight over her chest, as if that could shield her from the inevitable. “And if I refuse?”

I grinned at her. “Then you’re on your own with daddy’s book of tricks. How long do you think it’ll be before he asks you to show him what you’ve learned?” I waited as I allowed her to ponder that. “And what do you think he’ll do when you have nothing to show for it?”

Her flush deepened, and she stubbornly lifted her chin. “Fine,” she muttered as she turned away from me and stomped toward the bathroom.

I strolled after her, paying no mind to the clothes and dirty plates that littered the floor of her room.

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