Page 6 of The Curse

Her crazy badge, like her contacts, just flipped over to bitch badge. I had a strong feeling that Morgan and I weren’t going to get along. I leaned against the wall and answered her as casually as I could, “Well, I came for the job, but it looks like I’m going to get so muchmore.” Lazily I glanced down at the files Annabella had stacked neatly but still rested on the floor. The top file was labeled “NB May 15th”. Well, well, well. I came to Salem looking for answers—maybe I’d just stumbled upon one. “Why doyouthink I’m here, Morgan Goodheart?” I studied her body language, looking for anything that would give me a fucking clue about what was going on, but I didn’t pick up on much. She wasn’t afraid or intimidated by my presence…just surprised and annoyed. The electric currents that had been sizzling through my blood suddenly fizzled away, leaving me feeling strangely weak and vulnerable.

When I looked at her eyes, they were once again purple.

“I think you’re here looking for answers, aren’t you, silly boy? I think you’ve traced your pathetic ancestors back to Salem and you’ve come all this way in a desperate attempt to understand why your family’s cursed.” She took a step in my direction. Her lips were twisted in an evil smirk. “You’ve wasted your time, sweet Nico. You’ll find no answers to your questions here.” She laughed and added, “Nor will you amuse yourself with a job with me. You’re fired. Go away, love. I’ll see you again in a few days. It isn’t our time. Not just yet.”

Panic exploded in my body. I somehow knew that all the answers I’d been seeking were right in front of me, but she, the carrier of answers, was about to walk out of my life. I’d been fired. Desperately, I asked, “What do you know about my family? About the curse?”

Those eyes glittered with amusement. “Ah, Nico,” she purred. “You look so much like the original, so much like Nicodemus, only even more handsome, perhaps. He was such a thorn in…my relatives’ sides. I’m glad it didn’t end with the death of the sweet, but oh so stupid, Nicodemus. The little bastard only did one thing right in his life, and that was getting a child started in the belly of one of my…associates. I thought it was a nice touch—so nice to be able to get rid of Nico over and over again, don’t you think?”

She stepped closer and ran the tip of her fingernail down my cheek. I forced myself to remain perfectly still, which was quite an accomplishment considering every fiber of my being was screaming for me to run for my life.

“Awoman, Nico,” she said again, like the idea of my many times great grandfather impregnating a woman was totally out of the question, borderline ludicrous. “What was Nicodemus thinking? Betraying Corbin like that?” Her grin widened. “It destroyed him, you know. Broke his heart to the point that he became weak, unable to protect himself, and I was able to fill that void. The poor bastard preferred death to living in a world without his Nicodemus in it.”

Her laughter echoed off the walls of the long hallway.

Corbin again. I felt like I should know him by now, but I ignored her taunts, knowing she was only trying to distract me.

“The curse, Morgan Goodheart. What do you know about the curse?” I demanded. It was easy to see my time with her was coming to an end, and it was ending without one goddamned answer to any of my questions.

Her eyes narrowed to slits, and her laughter evaporated. “What do I know of the curse? I know you have less than two weeks left to live, Nico. Tell me, love, do you have a bastard child that will need to be dealt with, as well?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Two weeks, Nico. Enjoy them…but don’t enjoy them here. If I catch you in my territory again, you won’t live long enough to see the curse fulfilled.”

I stepped in front of her to block her from walking away. “So… the curse is real? You really think I’m going to die? This is something you’ve heard about? Part of Salem’s history?”

Her singsong laughter filled the hallway again. “I’m not answering any of your silly questions, Nico. You came to Salem for answers, so let’s watch you work for them. According to Annabella, you’re a historian; let’s see what you learned while you were tucked away in those Tennessee mountains. You have time to learn the facts and see if there’s anything that can be done to reverse the curse. And here’s a hint—there’s nothing you can do about it. Tick tock, Nico.” She turned and walked in the opposite direction, hips sashaying like she was on a stage and ready for a pole dancing routine. “Leave Salem, Nico. Do your research in Marblehead, where you belong.”

I watched her leave, knowing there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it nor would I be able to get any answers from her. So, I’d lost my job on my first day, but I didn’t call it a total loss. I’d learned some new information. On a bright note, it looked like Salem did hold the answers to my past and the family curse. On a not-so-bright-note, it sounded like the curse was real…if one believed in that kind of shit.

After today’s encounter, I was beginning to believe in that kind of shit.

I left the museum without saying goodbye to Bella. She’d pulled a disappearing act after my confrontation with Morgan and hadn’t reappeared—wasn’t even hiding out in her office when I returned to retrieve my backpack. As a matter of fact, the entire museum was eerily quiet, not a sound to be heard other than the echo of my footsteps as they clip-clopped against the expensive hardwood floors.

Fuck it. I hadn’t really wanted the job, had only used it as an excuse to move to Salem and gather what information I could find on my family. So why was I feeling so disappointed? Sure, if I managed to live past my twenty-fifth birthday, I would have to find a job, but I had a feeling that looking for one didn’t need to be at the top of my priority list. Maybe picking out a casket, but not looking for work.

As soon as I stepped out of the museum, I felt my energy level and strength start to return. Hell, I hadn’t even noticed how weak I’d felt until I stepped outside. What the fuck was that about? Did they have some sort of protective spell on the place that left everyone else feeling weak as a kitten? Yeah, I was well past the point of wondering if witchcraft was real. Morgan had cemented my belief in the supernatural, paranormal, or whatever the fuck it was.

Outside, the sun was bright, and it was early May, so the weather was still quite pleasant. Back in Tennessee, the month of May was nice too, but beginning to get a little hot in the afternoons. I looked around, noting the tourists who were already beginning to walk the streets, some wearing witch hats and some carrying brooms. If I wasn’t staring down death’s door, I could have enjoyed the festive and beautiful scenery. As it was, like Morgan said, ‘tick tock.’ I didn’t have time to waste on such silly things as enjoying life with friends.

No, I needed to worry about things like finding a vehicle of some sort to help me get from one research destination to the next, researching my ass off to find out every detail I could dig up about Nicodemus Bailey, and, most importantly, finding a way to end the family curse which would claim my life in a short while, if the curse was to be believed. Nope, no time for life. I needed to prepare for death.

With a shrug that clearly meant I didn’t have a fucking clue what I needed to do next, I turned right at the foot of the museum steps and started walking down the sidewalk. I pulled out my cell and hit the number for the local taxi service. I remembered seeing a motorcycle dealership on my trip from the airport. I didn’t have a clue where it was, but knew it existed. Surely the taxi service would help me out.

“Brooms-R-Us Taxi Service. How can I help you?” The chipper voice on the other end of the line answered.

I bit back a laugh. That shit was as funny now as it had been earlier when I’d called for my morning pickup. “Yeah, could I get a pick up at,” I paused, looked down the road and said, “the Salem Witch House?” I didn’t feel comfortable hanging out in front of the museum a minute longer than was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t like I was afraid of Morgan, but she definitely wasn’t the type of person I would want to antagonize. Alastair’s warning floated around in my head.

“Flying in your direction now, sir! ETA is seven minutes. Thanks for your business and enjoy your stay in Salem!”

Ha! Flying in my direction. These people were hilarious. I could have enjoyed it if I hadn’t been so freaked out.

I turned back to look at the museum one last time before heading in the direction of the Salem Witch House. From a first-floor window, I saw Bella looking at me, a sad expression on her face. I offered a wave, but she stepped away and closed the curtains. Looking up, my eyes landed on Morgan as she looked down at me from a window on the third floor. A wave didn’t seem appropriate, so I flipped her my middle finger. Hell, yeah, it was childish and immature, but she’d fired me on my first fucking day for absolutely no reason whatsoever and then seemed to relish the fact that she believed I would die in fourteen days. So, I let the bird fly.

In response, she raised her middle finger, did a stylish little twirl with it, and I collapsed onto the concrete sidewalk as pain ripped through my head. It literally felt like my head was trapped in a vice and someone, aka Morgan, was tightening it with the turn of an invisible crank. I tried to scream from the pain, but no sound escaped my throat. My vision started dimming and narrowing, except for the silver sparky things that were exploding behind my eyelids. It reminded me of sparklers I’d played with as a child. I struggled to drag in a breath of air and failed. Surely I’d pass out or die before long? One couldn’t handle pain this intense for long.

Even with my tunnel vision, outlined with sparks, I noticed a small child wandering down the center of the road. No one else seemed to notice she was unattended. I tried to stand, to motion for someone to go to the child before a car appeared on the road, but the pain left me unable to do anything other than watch the terror unfold around me. Within seconds, I saw a car slowly rolling in the child’s direction. There wasn’t anyone behind the wheel, and it looked to be an unattended vehicle innocently rolling down the road…toward the helpless child.

How could no one see what was happening? People were laughing and strolling around like they didn’t have a worry in the world, like a child wasn’t about to be run over by a couple thousand pounds of steel. With what I thought was my last bit of strength, I turned back toward the museum, hoping that Morgan would reverse whatever she’d done to me. Instead of seeing Morgan, though, my eyes focused on the downstairs window. Bella was back at the window, banging fiercely on the window pane. I could see her mouth opening and closing as she screamed over and over again. But like with the child, no one noticed or seemed to hear the banging. I focused on Bella and I could hear her, though I was logically speaking, too far away to actually hear, but I knew she was screaming “Please, no! Not my grandbaby.”

I felt new energy suddenly flowing through me, alleviating the pain that was consuming every corner of my brain. Ignoring the remaining pain which was still crippling, I stood up and started running in the direction of the child. There was no way I would get to her in time to scoop her up and get her to safety. There just wasn’t enough time, not enough space between the child and the car that had picked up speed.

---