Page 2 of Curses and Cures

We all are.

Nethertheless, we need to live up to our reputation, we need to be the Deana-dhe in this moment even if this man is not our enemy, even if we’ve come here for help.

“Grim doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Beast continues, flicking his gaze between us as he steps to one side and motions for us to enter the club. The guy’s so fucking huge there’s barely enough room to pass by him. “You appreciate that she hates tardiness, right?”

Despite the lightness to his tone, there’s an undercurrent of warning that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“And you appreciate that we’re not fucking kids who need to be reminded about our manners. There was traffic. We’re here now,” Carrick retorts, cutting him off.

Beast’s nostrils flare, but he lets Carrick’s comment go. He knows when to pick a fight, and now isn’t that time.

“Let’s get to it then,” he replies, motioning for us to follow him.

Stepping inside, we enter the antechamber, a locked wire cage enclosed by thick, black, floor to ceiling curtains that obscure our view into the warehouse. Used to disarm criminals of their weapons, the antechamber serves as a holding place to assess potential threats before anyone can enter the club. A camera is fixed in the corner of the room, a tiny red light flashing as our entrance is recorded.

“You know the deal. Weapons are left at the door,” Beast reminds us as he folds his arms across his chest, waiting.

“Then I guess I’d better stay here then,” Carrick smirks, the vicious scar on his face from the Skull Brotherhood’s attack distorting his features into an ugly mask. The wound still hasn't healed properly, the damaged skin around the clumsy stitches Lorcan sewed are puckered and reddened. Not that he cares, Carrick doesn’t give a fuck about his looks. Never has.

“Funny,” Beast says, raising a brow. “Now put your weapons on the desk. You’ll get them back on the way out.”

Carrick takes a threatening step towards Beast. “Look–”

“We didn’t bring any weapons,” I interrupt, sensing Carrick’s patience waning. He’s never had much of it to begin with, and now that the woman we love is in the hands of the Skull Brotherhood, he has very little left. “We don’t need them.”

Carrick grinds his teeth, and the look I give him is a warning not to fuck this up. We don’t need to start a war here today over Beast’s need to keep the woman he loves safe. I understand his insistence even if I don’t like it.

“Then you won’t mind me checking?” he asks, stepping towards me first.

“Go ahead.”

Widening my stance and lifting my arms up, I allow Beast to pat me down. When he’s satisfied that I'm not carrying any weapons, he does the same to Lorcan and then Carrick.

“I appreciate your patience. We have rules for a reason,” Beast says, as he casts his gaze to the camera fixed in the corner of the cage, giving one sharp nod.

Behind him, the door clicks open. Beast reaches for it, tugging it towards him, but before he allows us entry, he says, “Tensions are high, I get it, but remember we’re here to help. We’re not your enemies. So save your anger for the people who truly deserve it.”

“Yourself and Grim might not be our enemies, but The Masks…” Lorcan’s voice trails off as I give him a sharp look.

“Are here to help you get Cynthia back,” a sweet, female voice says, finishing his sentence.

My head snaps around as I stare at my cousin, the beautiful flame-haired woman who tamed The Masks and befriended Cyn during their stay at Ardelby Castle. The last time I saw her was six months ago in the courtyard of The Masks home when I thought she’d ended their lives.

But just like Cyn, she’d conspired against us to protect The Masks.

It was all a fucking ruse.

“Christy.”

“Arden,” she replies, a note of warning in her voice as she looks from me then to Lorcan and Carrick. “There will be no violence here today. Only the truth.”

“No violence, only the truth,” I repeat with a tight nod, internally battling the betrayal I feel despite admiring her strength and loyalty towards the people she loves. It takes courage to stand up against the Deana-dhe, to do what she did in the name of love. I respect that, but I sure fucking hope it was worth it. For all our sakes.

She lets out a controlled breath, then glances at Beast and gives him a gentle smile. “You can let the monsters out of the cage now,” she says, a playfulness to her tone that irks me.

“I thought that was your forte?” Lorcan quips, equally light in tone despite the tempered rage in his eyes.

To her credit, Christy doesn’t rise to the bait. She simply turns on her heel and walks deeper into the warehouse.

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