Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

I rest the back of my head against the pillow. “I’ve killed myself once before. About a month after I was cursed, around two in the morning, I jumped off a cliff. I admit, I was very drunk on fae wine — which, by the way, is about a thousand times stronger than anything on this plane — but I also wanted to see what would happen. Not just out of morbid curiosity. Only thirty days or so in, and I was already so tired of the cycle. I didn’t even think about the possibility that I might have a limited number of times this could work. That I might be cursed to never enter the phoenix rebirth cycle...”

My eyes burn. I glare up at the ceiling to fight tears. As a child I’d never concerned myself with my reincarnation. A new life built on gathered lessons felt far off, unimportant. Now that Max has put the thought in my mind though, I can’t get rid of it, can’t shake the sense of potential loss.

“What happened?” Max asks. “When you jumped off the cliff?”

Covering my mouth with a fist, I cough again, once more tasting blood. “Well, it definitely didn’t feel like flying, I can tell you that. The crunch when I hit rock will stick with me forever. And the pain of coming back...” My face wrinkles and pinches. “It’s much worse the second time. Way more painful.”

Max swears. “That’s an awful curse to put on anybody. I’m sure you’ve looked for a cure. Have you found anything?”

Chuckling with absolutely zero humor, I eat another mouthful of orange chicken, and roll my eyes. “Nothing yet. Hank either. And when I tracked down the witch who did it to me, she was surprisingly uncooperative.”

“Shocking.”

“I know, right?” I sigh. “Maybe she would have told me something eventually, but I sort of lost my temper.”

Max turns his noodles over with his chopsticks. “What’d you do?”

“Oh, nothing irreversible or anything stupid like that. Just shot her in the head.” I grimace, gaze dropping to the blankets wrapped around me.

“Ouch.”

“Not my proudest moment.” In spite of my best efforts, this pronouncement comes out in a mumble.

That witch was the first living being I ever killed apart from swamp pixie. Even if her death didn’t free me, I expected pain, shock, relief, something. But after the gun went off, I felt nothing. I just stood there splattered with her blood. Totally numb. That scared me almost more than the curse. It made me wonder if my family was right. Maybe I was born wrong.

“And it didn’t break the curse.” Max shakes his head.

I look up at the ceiling, willing tears not to fall. “It was more than a little frustrating. And of course, now she’ll never be able to reverse it because I lost my temper. Now I’m not even sure what to do now.”

Except maybe find a powerful magic user who might be able to help me. Like the one who put the bounty out on Max. This, like everything else so far, might be a dead end. But I have to try something. Anything. Even more so now with Max’s suggestion that I might be running out of time.

Back in charge of my stupid tears, I drop my gaze fully to Max. He studies the sheets under me. His eyes flick back and forth across the burgundy threads as he opens his mouth, then shuts it again. With a sigh, he scoops out some more noodles and beef with his chopsticks, chewing slowly. When he swallows, he looks back up at me.

“Fee—”

My cell buzzes with a standard, generic ringtone, and I cringe. The number flashing across the screen isn’t familiar, but I answer anyway. “Guidry’s Family Morgue, how can I help you?”

“Fee, it’s Yaritza.”

Prickles dance across my skin. “Hey. We’re about half-way to the checkpoint. Had to stop at a motel because we got attacked on the way. Have you shaken your Amazon tails yet?”

“You were attacked? Details, Fee.”

As I tell her about the woman who jumped me on the bus — leaving out the part where she beat me senseless because I have my pride — I watch Max out of the corner of my eye. Muscles taut, he continues to play with his food, but doesn’t eat a single bite. Curiosity about what he planned to say bubbles at the back of my mind. It takes concerted effort to focus on my phone call, even more so than it’s been to focus on anything else.

“That doesn’t sound like Amazon work,” Yaritza says, when I’ve finished. “Which makes sense because they’re still on my tail. I could confront them head on, but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take against their numbers. I’m not sure I’m going to make it to the drop.”

Not wanting to sound too eager, I push out a slow breath before I respond. “I can take him the rest of the way. Or at least head that direction until you can shake the Amazons. I don’t expect the take. Consider me an avatar.”

Silence drags like a dead body across the ground. My pulse pounds, throbbing my every bruise and broken bone. I hold my breath. If Yaritza takes offense, I’m as good as out of the guild. Her devotion to the contract makes her very protective of her marks. That she let me take Max in the first place shows just how dire the situation is.

But if she thinks I’m trying to horn in...

“I don’t like it,” Yaritza says.

The hair on my arms stands on end.

“But I do think it’s the best option,” she continues. “I’ll text you the details. And Fee. Do not screw this up.”

I swallow. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the mark to the buyer. You can count on me.”

7.

A LOADED QUIET BOOKENDS our night.

Max and I do watch a movie on the tiny screen of my phone, but I doubt either of us absorb the gloriously trope-stuffed story. After all