Cursed

Published by Evernight Teen at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2013 Trakena Prevost

ISBN: 978-1-77130-675-1

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JC Chute

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This labor of love has definitely been a long time coming. And I never would have made it without all of the wonderful people in my life. A big thanks goes out to my editor, Jane Chute, my publisher, Stacey Adderley, and all of the Evernight Teen family. You definitely helped me to make my humbled dream into a very real reality.

To my mom and dad, who always encouraged and guided me. Even though you knew I was a bit of my own unique person you didn’t give me a hard time about my differing interest. I’d like to think that my success is very much owed to your continued support and cheerleading of all things Trakena.

To my sister, Shauntelle, and my beautiful nieces, Morghan and McKenzie. You all provide me with the best gift any writer can have—loads of inspiration and lots of laughs.

To my wonderful boyfriend Brandon—AKA the BF—you’ve somehow found the perfect blend of inspiration and drill sergeant when it comes to encouraging me. Thanks for being you and for loving me exactly the way that I am.

To my critique group: Barbara, Erin, Nia, Sarah, and Jennifer! You ladies are my cheerleaders, my writing comrades toughing it out in the trenches of this publishing war, and my friends. I don’t know what I would do without your constant support and love.

To all of my friends who’ve read, re-read, and given me encouragement in this process (You know who you are). Thanks for everything!

CURSED

The Guardian Chronicles, 1

Trakena Prevost

Copyright © 2013

Chapter One

The shriek of a Banshee echoed through the alley. It sent a jolt through my system, and I charged forward in full-on hunting mode. It was fitting that my team used the she-devil’s call as a signal to storm the Chicago warehouse, since it was a Banshee’s job to predict death. And the fact that humans couldn’t hear it didn’t hurt the situation, either.

I kicked the front door and it splintered. I ran down a dark hallway and stopped at a staircase near the back of the building. From where I stood, the stairs ascended up to the rooftop access to my right and descended towards the basement to my left. I jumped over the railing and dropped into darkness. The air whooshed by me until I hit the ground in a crouch—right in front of the basement door.

Even through the folds of my mask, I could smell the stench of unwashed human bodies mixed in with a sweet, sticky scent. The force of it knocked into me—must be a big group tonight.

Looks like someone won’t be making it to first period algebra tomorrow, I thought. I stood and curved my back in a long stretch. All right, time to work.

I heard my dad’s voice in my thoughts, instructing me, reminding me to wait, to hunt my prey with precision. I considered his words and pushed them from me. There were too many lives at risk, and we were late getting in here thanks to my lookout’s overly cautious BS. And, after countless busts that led to a slew of interrogations, I knew in my gut that this coven leader would guide me straight to the one I’d been looking for. This bigwig would be the key to tracking down the idiot who’d been stupid enough to hurt my mom.

Six months ago, she’d been kidnapped and tortured by filthy vermin for three weeks. Dad and an extraction team had been able to get her out, but not soon enough. The hospital room where my mom was treated had had to be dimmed. The sunken shadows that surrounded her eyes gave her features an eerie hollowness. Her gaze was glassy and unfocused. I’d thought she’d never stop shaking. And the screams … She still couldn’t sleep most nights, without the nightmares.

Before I could be overwhelmed by my emotions, I redirected the energy into something I could use against my enemies. My jaw locked as my teeth ground together. My fingers dug into my palms. Ignoring my dad’s warnings blaring in my thoughts, I burst through the basement door.

The darkness of the night behind me bled into the dimly lit room. The stench of decay pulled at my sensitive nose. Empty and half-empty cartons of shrimp fried rice and chow mein were scattered everywhere. Even with the shadows cloaking the room, I could see that the boxes crawled with maggots and bugs. A rat or two scurried across the floor, past puddles of muck I assumed to be human waste—the waste of the frail bodies situated on the twenty or so mats positioned around the room.

The place was a typical drug den. What made it stand out as odd was the fact that a person sat next to darn near every junkie.

An optimist would look at the scene, brush aside any red flags of warning, and feel hopeful. Maybe they were family members coming to save their loved ones, or friends, offering hope and a way out?

I knew better than to fall for any of that.

The part of me that wasn’t human could see the truth—the truth that regular, non-magic folk couldn’t. I could see the thin, bluish-white light that flowed from the mouths of the half-dead to their visitors, and I knew what it meant.

Sometime in the early 1500’s my people, the Dorgai, stumbled upon certain plants that, if brewed right, opened up the minds of humans for the taking. Unfortunately, a group of us went totally rotten and decided to use these substances to make feeding on human souls into child’s play. By the time the U.S. government started fighting what they called the War on Drugs, we’d been taking out the vermin we called Suecai for more years than most folks would think possible—a fight that was still going strong to this day.

My hands clenched my blade as a liquid fire of anger flowed within me. These people didn’t ask for this. Sure, everyone knew the risk of messing with drugs. Kids were told horror stories about how drugs would take over their lives, enslaving them. But most couldn’t comprehend what these drug-infested houses were really about. The whole situation was completely messed up.

The call of their feeding was so strong that the Suecai coven hadn’t noticed me yet—a typical and dangerous side effect of having no control. Well, dangerous for them, anyway. If I wanted, I could stroll in and take out a few before my team caught up—without starting the fighting frenzy. Khan wouldn’t like it, but as my second he wasn’t the boss of me—literally. And I could handle anything this lot brought.

I took a step into the room, my muscles tense. Before I could rush forward, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

You’re not planning on jumping in without us … Right, Jazz? Khan whispered.

I let my disappointed scowl linger for a moment on my lips. Then I fixed my face and turned towards him and the other four members of my team.

Khan’s black sneak suit fit closely to his toned body, though, in boy fashion, he didn’t wear it nearly as tight as we girls did. Khan wasn’t bulky like some of the guys, but lean and hard, preferring to rely on a versatile fighting strategy rather than the massive, bowl-you-over strength that most linebacker types preferred. His black hair hit right at the nape of his neck. The black of the suit bounced off his fair skin, emphasizing the rich brown of his almond-shaped eyes. He was the epitome of a young and hot Bruce Lee.

As two of the few minority kids in our quarter, we’d practically been attached at the hip growing up. Not to mention that we were both halfers, the result of a Dorgai getting a little too close and personal with one of the humans we’re tasked to protect. But even as close as we were, I still hated it when he got on me like a big brother would. We were both seventeen, after all.

I gave Khan a tense smile, willing the motion to go to my eyes where he could see it around my mask. If you hadn’t been so slow, I wouldn’t have had to consider going in alone. Are you ready now?

He gave me that confident, sexy smile that he always did when trying to snuff out one of my bad moods. Chills fluttered down my back at its presence, while the rest of me wanted to slap him for it. Ready when you are…boss. He pulled his mask up from around his neck and fastened it into place.

And don’t you forget it.

I crept toward the Suecai farthest to the right. His back was to me, so if I kept my motions slow and quiet he’d never see me coming. Connected to a young blonde, the Suecai’s chest rose and fell steadily, his breathing strong. Unlike the Suecai, the girl’s breathing was ragged and loud. She wheezed, more than inhaled. Her body thrashed about, head jerking from side to side, fighting the Suecai’s tight grip.

Even with all the movement from the girl, the Suecai sat rooted, undisturbed by his victim’s occasional kicking and limp slapping. I could see the light of her essence tied between them, flowing from her mouth in a thin stream—a light that grew fainter by the second. It might be too late to save her. I wanted to kick myself for not bursting in earlier—if I’d rushed in when I’d wanted, she might’ve had a shot.

Steadying my stance, I gripped my blade with both hands. I let the energy inside my muscles build, then let it go, bringing the sword down in an arc until the tip hung inches from the ground.

Seconds passed before tiny droplets of silver blood trickled from the tip of my weapon. The creature didn’t have time to turn and face me before his head fell to the floor, followed by a spray of blood, then the rest of his body.

Droplets of silver speckled the mocha skin of my forearm, drawing my gaze there. I wondered for a millisecond what my own blood would look like when I went full Dorgai, before movement to my left caught my attention. My entire body turned, whipping my blade around me. It came down with a slight arc towards the Suecai’s neck. Down he went.

A gargled scream pierced the quiet.

"Ambiac!" In the ancient language it meant, Ambush.

****

The Suecais’ eyes began to focus, regaining consciousness from their feeding haze. A quick scan of the room told me we’d been able to take out seven or so before the alarm sounded—not bad for an initial strike. Dad would be proud.

No longer able to employ my sneak attack strategy, I switched to a more defensive fighting style. I heard my dad in my mind, prodding me with suggestions.

Pull back, Jasmine, he’d say. Don’t rush it. Let them come to you.

So I waited. Soon enough, three Suecai surrounded me.

The redhead and blonde chicks looked as if they’d stepped straight out of a bar in the 1970’s, with their teased hair and retro, glittery nightwear. They were almost pretty, if you were into that whole blast from the past sort of thing. The guy with them towered over me with his thick and hardened limbs. His clothes weren’t as crazily out of date, looking as if he’d just gotten off work at some factory. But the faded jeans and white T-shirt look that most factory workers loved hadn’t really changed over the years, so that wasn’t saying much. Each of the vermin had eyes electric-blue with the Chi they’d consumed.

If I hadn’t already known what they were, their eyes would’ve been a dead giveaway. You had to catch them uncloaked to see that, though. And the only way to do that was to surprise them somehow—catch them mid-feed, flash them with beams of light without warning, get them seriously riled up, or something along those lines.

The three around me started doing that mental connection thing they liked so much. I could tell because they kept making facial expressions that should’ve had some dialog to go with them, but didn’t.

They sized me up, and I knew what they saw—a chocolate child with the sort of toned curves that could drive the boys crazy in the right gear. My black hair was pulled back in a tight French braid that fell just past my shoulders. My hazel eyes, no doubt tight with the anticipation I felt, were the only part of my face they could see past the standard issue mask that we Guardians wore.

Oh yeah, I was the embodiment of danger. They were sure to be shakin’ in their out-of-date boots… not. That slip-up in judgment on their part would work nicely in my favor.

The blonde looked at me with a lazy sigh while the redhead twirled a piece of her long locks. Gigantor shrugged. Each of them took a step towards me, and I went into super-concentration mode. With my hearing I tracked the blonde to my left. I kept the redhead to my right in my sights the same way. Gigantor in front had my full attention.

From the relaxed stances of the women, they’d assumed I would take on Gigantor first. The way I’d honed in on him, I’d expected they would. Instead, I took two steps to my right, twisting my sword in that direction, and pierced Red in the chest. I kicked Gigantor in the stomach as I pulled my weapon free and sliced down on Blondie’s neck.

Gigantor’s face and neck became flushed—or did the Suecai version, since their blood didn’t have the red tint needed to flush the way humans did—as he took in his two companions on the floor. His chest heaved up and down, building momentum, until a howl erupted from his mouth.

I braced my feet, waiting for him to crash into me. He grabbed a steel pipe and thrashed it about. Even though his aim wasn’t great, he could still bash my brains in with that thing if I wasn’t careful. I dodged a few swipes and tried to clip his side, but my blade bounced off his skin like rubber. I swung down, and he blocked me with a bare forearm. I ducked another blow, flung myself to the left, and rolled to my feet.

I watched Gigantor gasp. He was big, but not used to long-term exertion. If I could just keep his tree-trunk limbs from trapping and crushing me, I might catch him slipping. When that happened, I’d be ready with a final blow.

I watched his legs and arms, waiting for the slightest twitch that would betray his next move. Something shifted behind him. Keeping an eye on Gigantor, I glanced past him and saw someone slinking from the room.

Tall and slim, the man seemed to have moonlight glowing through his skin. His cheeks, though gaunt, showed a slight flush—another sign of a fresh feed. He slithered through the mini battles clashing around him. Catching my gaze, he winked, his smug smile widening. That’s when I noticed the black of his robes and the eye symbol on his chest—Gunshi. I’d just locked eyes with the coven leader, and he’d beckoned me to follow him. Hell, he darn near dared me to.

I started in that direction but was whipped around instead. Gigantor had gotten his second wind and had grabbed my arm, thrusting me to the left.

I don’t have time for this, I grumbled before jumping back to avoid a pipe blow to my chest.

I sensed the Suecai coven leader moving farther from me, escaping to some unknown hideout, eluding my grasp. He’d lost many soldiers tonight, but he’d live to make more and to rebuild…again.

The thought of that monster ending another life repulsed me. I choked on the rage of the idea, feeling the heat of it course through my veins.

All motion slowed. My senses sharpened and my thoughts cleared. I saw Gigantor rush me, but he moved with the speed of a ninety-year-old man. Watching his limbs, I saw the barely visible body armor spell that covered him. Damn. Evil. Witches.

The magic shimmered around him, but in his slowed state I could see one hint of darkness. I backed up, waiting to see if it came up again.

There.

To the left of his chest there was a crack in the magic—a sliver just big enough for a blade. The witch must’ve been sloppy or rushed. It was going to take one hell of a blow to be that precise, but I knew I could do it. I had to.

Angling my sword downward, I braced my feet. When he reached me, I ducked a blow, twisted around, and slammed the handle of the blade into his stomach. It might not kill him, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him and double him over. A quick sweep of his legs brought him to the ground. Shock dawned on him as I straddled his broad middle. I didn’t hesitate. I plunged the sword into the dark, non-magicked spot. Gigantor’s eyes rolled back into his head.

Taking a moment to breathe, I jumped up in time to see the leader sneak into a veiled doorway. Rushing past fighting bodies pounding into one another, I darted in after him.

Khan yelled at me to wait, but he was too far behind me and I couldn’t stop now—not when the one I’d been searching for was seconds away. I couldn’t chance losing him for something as petty as protocol.

Chapter Two

The sounds of clashing blades dimmed behind me as I