The Cursed Prince Teresa Roman (short novels in english .TXT) 📖

was right. I did have a decision to make. It was all I could think about for the rest of the day. I kept searching for some sort of sign that would make this whole thing easier for me, but none came. That night, I slept fitfully, waking up from one strange dream after another. By the time morning came, I’d made up my mind that I wouldn’t decide anything until after I saw Peter later.

I arrived at my office and right away took notice of a giant bouquet of flowers that sat on the receptionist’s desk, obscuring her face from view.

“Those are pretty,” I said, walking by Maggie.

“They’re for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Someone must think you’re pretty special.” She got up from her chair and handed them to me. I gave Maggie a grateful smile before taking them into my office, where I set the vase down on my desk and pulled out the card that came with the flowers.

Can’t wait to see you later –

Peter

I sighed. Peter was the smarter choice, so why was this so difficult? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about Nicolai’s kiss, and the way he’d made me feel as he inched closer and closer before pressing his lips on mine. Nicolai’s words rang in my head—I was the one he was meant to be with. He seemed so certain, but after being isolated from the world for the past two years, how could he really know?

My thoughts strayed from Nicolai to Peter. He didn’t fill me with the same fire that Nicolai did. Except when we kissed or touched. Those were the moments I forgot myself, the moments when the whole world filtered away and there was only me and him. Maria’s voice slithered into my head. Think about the way you feel when you spend time with him. I sank into my chair. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I’d always chalked my fatigue up to the late hour or poor sleep the night before. What if it was more than that?

I went to my car and retrieved the encyclopedia of all things supernatural Maria had been so insistent on me reading. When I returned to my office I opened it to the page on incubi and read it once more. They were powerful creatures with superhuman speed and strength who could shapeshift and take on different appearances. But only if they had a host to feed on. Incubi usually fed on women, sucking their souls the way vampires sucked blood, while a succubus usually chose male victims. Like Maria had explained, they needed physical contact with their victims.

I shook my head. This was madness. There had to be some other explanation. I closed the book, powered on my PC, and dove straight into work. I was so laser focused on preparing for an upcoming audit that I didn’t even notice when Peter arrived.

I lifted my head at the sound of my name. “Peter? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot our lunch plans?”

“No, of course not. What time is it?”

“Half past noon.”

“Already?” I stood and dropped the pencil I had tucked behind my ear on my desk. “Where do you want to go for lunch?”

Peter lifted a large brown paper bag that he’d brought with him and placed it on my desk beside the flowers. “I brought food. I thought a private picnic here in your office would be more fun than going to a restaurant. And this way, I get you all to myself.”

“That sounds nice.” I managed a smile despite the thought that popped in my head. Why was Peter always trying to get me alone? I was being paranoid. What man didn’t want private time with his girlfriend?

Peter reached into the bag and brought out two Styrofoam take-out containers along with drinks. “I hope Italian is okay.”

I nodded and reached for my food. Normally I loved pasta, but I could barely eat. I kept glancing at Peter out of the corner of my eye and thinking about the passage I’d read earlier. If Peter really was an incubus, then what he looked like now was just a glamour. The thought of his true appearance—beast-like with horns and long, sharp talons—made me shudder.

“Is something the matter?” Peter asked. “You’re awfully quiet, and you’ve barely touched your food.”

“I guess I’m still thinking about my dad.”

“Did he have some sort of relapse?”

I shook my head. “No. He’s made an amazing recovery. I’d almost call it magic if I didn’t know better,” I said, hoping for some sort of reaction out of him that would help answer all my questions.

“Magic? What makes you say that?”

“You know what everyone says about Beaver Falls. What if it’s really true?” I said. “Right after my dad had his stroke, his speech was slurred, he could barely squeeze my hand, but the next day he was totally fine. Even his doctor said he’d never seen anyone recover like that. I know it sounds crazy, but what if one of the nurses who took care of my father was a witch who used magic to heal him?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Do you really think that’s what happened?”

The hungry look in his eyes spooked me. “I … no. I guess not,” I stuttered. “I’m just saying that it’s a miracle that he recovered so quickly. But miracles have been known to happen from time to time. And my dad’s always been really healthy. That’s probably why he bounced back the way he did.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is,” Peter replied, a far-off look in his eyes.

I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s stupid. I’m just letting my imagination run wild.” I put the top back on my take-out container and stood from my chair. “I’m sorry, Peter, but I’ve got a lot of work to do today. Is it all right if I cut our lunch a little short?”

“But I’ve only just got here.”

“I know, but I’ve got this audit