A Cursed Life: Grim Alliance, #3

A Cursed Life

Miranda Stork

Published by Isara Press

Copyright © Miranda Stork 2014

The right of Miranda Stork to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers; Isara Press.

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Dedications

Chapter One

December, 2008

Another hacking cough that felt as though her lungs were being forced out through her throat. Alisha spat away the spittle at the corner of her lips, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she took in a deep, shuddering breath. Her lungs burned like fire with every breath, and the only thing that soothed the pain was the crap she was selling to the junkie before her.

The short man gave a rat-like sniff, his jerky movements accenting the animalistic image. He glanced over his shoulder with wide brown eyes, to the darkness of the street beyond the alleyway, only a portion of it lit up by a flickering yellow streetlight. Groups of figures staggered past in drunken packs, tumbling out from the nearby nightclubs. He shivered, dressed only in a thin shirt and jeans torn at the knees, rubbing his tobacco-stained fingers together in impatience. Well, are you going to sell me or not? I haven’t got all night.

Alisha narrowed her eyes at his tone, yanking a wrinkled paper tissue from her anorak pocket and coughing into it. She didn’t pause to see the stains of blood soaking into the fibres as she tucked it away again, giving the nervous man a sharp nod. ’Course I am, dude. How much d’ya want?

How much have you got?

Alisha sighed inwardly, rolling her storm-grey eyes to the starry night-sky above, visible through the edges of the rooftops and dripping gutters. Great, he’s going to waste my time. I hate these guys. She tutted and tightened her hands into fists inside her pockets, dropping her stance forwards onto her hip as she glared down at him. Look, do you want some or not? Stop fucking me about. How much have you got on you?

About fifty.

That’ll do. Here. She snatched the grubby, torn notes out of his outstretched hand, pulling a small plastic bag containing ten pills from her pocket and shoving it into his palm.

The nervous guy glanced down at the bag with apparent confusion, his bushy brows furrowing as his confusion twisted into anger. Hey! Is that it? I want more for my cash than that. That’s not going to see me through tomorrow.

Letting out a short laugh that turned into another galloping wheeze, Alisha spat the bloody saliva from her mouth again, twisting her head to the side for a moment. What do you think this is, a bloody Cash ‘n Carry? Go and tell it to someone who gives a shit. These are drugs, not fucking candy. Now get lost, before I tell the other dealers not to sell to you as well. A twang of fear sliced its way through her heart at her words. She spoke bravely, but secretly she feared every single junkie who came to see her. All of them were hopped up on drugs until they could barely walk, and all of them were unpredictable. She knew because she had been one of them. She still was one of them. And it was killing her, slowly and painfully.

The guy looked for a moment as though he was going to reply with something cutting, but finally gave a grunt and shoved the small packet into the tattered recesses of his jeans before shuffling out into the street again. Alisha breathed out hard in relief, a cold, wet mist forming like smoke from her lips in the freezing air. She tucked her hands under her arms and tried to wriggle her toes in her boots, to coax warmth back in. I have to make enough money this month to pay for my rent. Shit though that hovel is. And my food. Her stomach rumbled as though agreeing wholeheartedly. Alisha’s face darkened as she thought of all the money she had spent on the very things she was selling. She wasn’t able to have anything anymore, now her lungs had packed in. The doctors had told her she had only months left to live. Bah. They’re always wrong, what do they know? So I’m coughing up a little blood. As long as I stop taking anything and eat properly, I’ll probably be alright.

She knew her own thoughts betrayed reality. There was no way she was getting better. But if I think like that, I can’t get through each day. I have to believe I’ll get better. Alisha grimaced as a sharp pain ripped through her stomach, and she clutched at it in shock, blinking to hold back the tears of pain and regret. She had been getting worse since two nights ago, every breath becoming more of a challenge as her internal organs struggled to work as they once had.

A noise from the opening of the red-brick alleyway caught her attention, and she swallowed back the agony, watching intently as three giggling forms came into view as silhouettes. Teenagers. Probably out for an evening high as they get into the clubs with a fake ID. Should I warn them where this path leads? Or is it just futile? She knew what she did was wrong. She had known, even before she popped her first ‘E’, that it would eventually kill her. And yet she had done it anyway. It had blocked out the pain. So no doubt these three wouldn’t listen any more than I did.

The first two girls came forwards into the dim light from the windows above her, still tittering nervously as one of them fumbled in a pocket for some cash. They were typical college kids, one of them slender with chocolate hair and freckles, the other a tall, curvaceous blond with laughing blue eyes. Alisha’s soul sank for them, self-pity for how carefree they were compared to her clear in her expression. She nodded over at them, preparing to reach inside her coat pockets, when the third girl stepped into the light—and Alisha nearly cried out with the sight.

Stacy? No. No, you can’t see me like this.

Trying to appear casual, Alisha took a step back into the darkness and pulled her hood closer over her head, obscuring the view to her face as her baby sister walked forwards, laughing with her friends. She looked just as Alisha remembered from years ago, the double of her; vibrant red hair that bounced on her shoulders, a ready grin and deep grey eyes that were full of merriment. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Alisha croaked the dreaded question. What do you want?

The blond girl was nudged forwards by Stacy and the other girl, and she giggled, clearing her throat and trying to appear more in control as she smoothly replied, Um...we’re not sure. Someone said we could come to you for something to...you know...make us high? The three girls dissolved into laughter again, and Alisha’s heart sank to her boots, her clenched palms sweating profusely. There was no way on earth she was selling any of the shit she had to her little sister. She’d rather fling herself into a burning building.

Yeah, sure, she replied hoarsely, her hidden eyes flickering over her sister’s form. It was clear they were only trying to get drugs as all teenagers did at some point, an experimental rush that wasn’t meant to get dangerous. Alisha knew all too well that flawed logic. There was no such thing. But I have to give them something, or they’ll go to someone else...and they will get drugs. Hard ones. Thinking quickly, she held up a woollen-gloved hand, turning away for a second. Wait, I’ve got something good. Let me just find it.

The three college girls waited patiently as she spun around, fumbling down the inside pocket of her dirty green anorak. The doctor had given her some Vitamin C along with all her other medications—which of course she had mostly sold for cash—and she still had it on her. Grasping the small white pill bottle, she popped the lid open, peering inside. White and no letter on them. Perfect. She tipped three of them out into the palm of her hand, sliding them quickly into a small plastic bag she grabbed from her jeans pocket. Twisting back, she held the bag out to them. Here. They’re new. Called, er...Orange Surprise. Taste like orange, too.

No way! That sounds awesome, the blond girl gushed, holding out a couple of notes. Um...I don’t know if that’s enough. Do I need to give you more? I can—

No, that’s fine, Alisha interrupted, snatching the notes from the girl’s outstretched hand with a choking cough. Slamming her ready tissue to her mouth to wipe away the blood-stained spittle, she pushed the bag into the blonde’s hand. Enjoy.

Sweet. Thanks. Come on, girls, the brunette giggled, ushering her friends away as she turned to leave. The three of them left towards the street, the brunette and the blond checking their purchase as they crunched through the trash strewn on the ground, but Stacy turned back to look over her shoulder just as Alisha moved for a second into the light. She paused, her face freezing with uncertainty, and Alisha’s eyes widened with fear as she stepped backwards into the shadows. She didn’t want Stacy to see her here, like this. Her sister had to believe she was just gone, not rotting away on a street corner. The shame was too much.

The red-haired double of Alisha twisted her body back, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back into the alley. Biting her lip, she cocked her head and brushed the hair away from her eyes with one pale hand, as though to check she wasn’t seeing things. Do I...do I know you? You look familiar.

Me? No, never met you, Alisha replied, trying to make her voice sound as husky and removed from her own voice as possible.

Yeah, I’m sure of it. You know, just for a minute, I thought you looked like my—

Don’t say sister. Don’t you dare say sister. Coaxing saliva back into her dry throat, Alisha gave a wheeze hissing, Look, I don’t know you, right? Now fuck off!

Stacy froze in place, her bottom lip wobbling as her eyes filled with tears. Alisha blinked back her own at the sight, managing to hide the sniff she gave as her nose ran with the sorrow making her chest ache. She knew Stacy wanted it to be her. The two of them had been thick as thieves when they were kids, like they were joined at the hip. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew Stacy had probably been looking for her. But she just couldn’t go home. Not anymore. Not with him there.

Just as her sister was about to retort with something, the shouts of her friends filtered in from the street beyond, calling for her to hurry up. Alisha watched nervously as Stacy slammed her mouth shut, her chin wobbling, before turning back and sprinting from the alleyway. Alisha waited until she heard their voices and footsteps disappearing into the night before releasing the breath she had been holding, slumping down to the floor in a heap. Her head fell forward onto her folded arms as she rested them on her knees, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. It had been so long since she had seen Stacy, and her heart broke every time she thought of her. Why did she come in here tonight? Here, of all places. To me.

The slicing stab of pain ran through her stomach again, and this time she cried out, throwing her head back as her arms fell to her torso, clutching it as though she could rip the agony out. Her eyes flew open as the pain spread down her left arm, her chest clutching tightly, contorting her face as she screamed alone. Every limb throbbed, aching dully as her heart sped up like a trapped bird in a cage.

Nerves squeezed as she tried to move herself, resulting only in collapsing in a heap to the ground as she struggled for breath. Her lungs felt as though they were stuck somehow, no longer able to open and shut like nature had intended, and stars swam in her vision as she gasped for the cold air to enter her body. Something wet and sticky met her cheek, but she couldn’t smell anything, a rushing sound blasting through her ears and shutting out the night. Fuck! Help me, someone! Stacy! Alisha’s fear made her breathing worse, and she choked as another glob of blood stuck itself in her throat, unable to come out as her body began to shut down on her. She reached out blindly with one hand, her left arm already frozen in place like rock as she desperately hoped for someone to be nearby. She was going to die. She knew now. She was going to die, alone, in this dirty alleyway. And no one would ever know who she was. Just another dead junkie, that was her. Her chest burned with the way it twisted around her heart, its final staccato beat finally giving out, like a candle burnt to the base of its wick.

Alisha closed her eyes against the pain as her weakened body gave into the heart attack, her limbs numb and cold as she felt the last flickering urges inside her head of her body attempting to restart itself. It’s too late. It’s all too late now. Stacy. I’m sorry, Stacy.

Chapter Two

Six years later

Where the hell is it?

Papers and books went flying as Alisha rummaged across the shelves of her room, peering under every nook and cranny in her search. She didn’t notice Gabe and Talia coming up to stand her doorway until Gabe cleared his throat loudly. She jumped with a start, holding her hand over her heart as she breathed out in relief. For crying out loud, Gabe. You startled me.

Talia peered over the Reaper’s shoulder as she nodded into the room, her braided strands of auburn hair cascading across her shoulders. What’s going on? Having a clear out?

Alisha gave a short smile, unable to resist Talia’s humour even in her panic. The faerie was irrepressible, and all the Reapers had warmed to her. Helena...not so much. She seemed like a good person, but she was too cold and withdrawn to allow herself to get to know any of them. Alisha got that, though. It had taken a long time for her to let her walls down. No, I’ve lost something. It must have got misplaced when we moved over here. I had it in one of my books, I always had it there.

Gabe’s vivid emerald eyes darkened as he heard the panicked edge to her tone. Of all the Reapers, it was Gabe she had always been able to talk to the most—and now Talia, too. The three of them understood more than the others what it meant to feel guilty about their pasts. Even Drew and Devin seemed to have accepted what had happened to them, in their own way. Stepping into the room with his heavy leather boots, he ran a hand over the short stubble of blond hair that covered his shaven head. What have you lost, Alisha? Maybe we can help you find it.

My photo. The only photo I have of me and Stacy. Her words tumbled out in a rush, ending on a squeak that threatened to break into a sob if she didn’t hold it back. Biting her lip, she twisted around for a moment to hide her sudden tears, rifling through the scattered books and magazines strewn across her rumpled bedspread. I can’t have lost it. Not my only link to her. I can’t have. I boxed everything carefully when we moved over here. Due to Gabe’s spectre he had just dealt with, their pool hall was in ruins, so the Spectre Hunters—the faeries Talia and Helena—had agreed to let them stay in their modern white-gloss home. Alisha knew the photo couldn’t really be anywhere else but in her copy of Daughter of Fortune. It had been one of Stacy’s favourite books, so her photo had stayed in there, away from all the hurt and pain waiting outside with Alisha.

We’ll find it. Don’t worry, Talia soothed, speeding across the room and placing a comforting hand on Alisha’s shoulder. The sudden touch made Alisha flinch, and she grimaced as Talia sharply withdrew her hand, turning around to face her.

Forcing an easy smile onto her face, Alisha reached out and hesitantly patted Talia’s arm, staring up into the faerie’s wide amber gaze. Sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m...I’m not really a touchy-feely person. Thanks, guys. I really want to find it. I need it.

Talia grinned back, the tension leaving her face as she gave a nod. No problem. Let’s just find this photo. What does it look like? So I know what we’re searching for.

It’s of me and Stacy—she looks just like me, so you’ll know it when you find it.

There was a few moments of silence, except for the occasional grunt and scuffle of movement as they turned over piles of items, throwing clothes and other mess to the floor in an effort to find the precious photograph. Alisha finally stopped with a hard swallow, tears brimming her eyes as she turned away to hide them, sliding against the cotton-nylon-mix of her bedspread with a sigh as she slumped to the floor. "It’s gone. I’ve lost