A Curse Awakened: A Weird Girls Novella (3 page)

“What the
fuck
are you?” He prowled forward, hissing with fury.

I caught his foot when he stomped it down toward my skull and rammed my heel between his legs. The agony searing my belly weakened the impact yet the thrust was enough to buy me time. Time to leap—okay, more like
stagger
—to my feet. He swung his meaty fist. I dropped into a deep crouch and propelled upward, nailing him in the jaw with an elbow.

The thing about learning to fight on the street is that it taught me to endure pain and go for the win whatever the cost. That meant not being afraid to fight dirty. There was no grace or carefully choreographed jabs and sideswipes. It was blow after blow, knowing I couldn’t stop, even if he went down. No mercy. No hesitation. That’s what determined who’d win.

My fists and legs morphed into a flurry of windmills. Except it wasn’t enough, no matter how hard I pummeled or how deep my claws raked his flesh.

The Goliath vamp cuffed me hard in the face, bashing my nose in and sending blood shooting out like a hose. It was the one hit he managed, but that’s all he needed. I couldn’t match him in strength. Not in my human form.

Maybe that’s what my tigress finally needed to bust through the chain that bound her. A little motivation in the form of mind-numbing terror and teeth-rattling pain.

My body smacked onto the littered ground, covered in fur, three times as large, and
madder than hell.

I spun, crouching on four legs, and pounced on the befuddled vamp. But just like I wanted to survive, so did he. My claws punctured his face, shredding it like weather-beaten cardboard as his nails pierced through my dense shoulders, trying to force me off. Our fangs snapped, our bodies slammed hard, beating each other with everything that we had.

Taran and Shayna screamed, but not because of my brawl.

“Emme, no! Stop! You have to calm down,” Taran screamed at her.

“
Don’t.
She’s okay. Ceel’s okay!” Shayna yelled.

The vamp kicked me off him. And that was probably the only thing that saved me.

There was a rattle behind me, followed by the strong sense of impending death. I flattened out on my stomach as the remaining Porsche jetted across the field, mashing the vamp against a row of trees.

His body busted open, splattering bits of brain and bone across bark, dirt, and a cluster of overgrown blackberry bushes. Disturbing? Yes. Gag inducing? Uh-
huh
. But it was the remainder of his body crawling toward me that just didn’t seem fair. Emme had hit him with a
car.
In any other
Buffy
episode, that would have been enough.

The claws of one hand dug into the earth. He only had half a body and that half still advanced like a slow-moving crocodile, writhing in agony, yet determined to kill me. Without eyes to see and a brain to direct it, it catapulted toward me. I jerked from its path just a little too soon.

In an effort to “help,” Shayna converted a twig into a stake. It sucked monkey snot that my sister’s aim wasn’t the greatest. A pathetic roar squeaked from my throat as her stake found my ass. My eyes rolled into my head as stabbing pain rocked my butt cheek.

“Dude. I am, like,
so
sorry!”

The vamp continued to crawl toward me. Punctured rear and all, I drove my paw into his exposed heart and squished. My vision spun from the feel of the rupturing vessel and the multitude of painful spasms rocking my body. But despite the throbbing, the feel of the warm ash erupting beneath my claws allowed me to take a breath. He was dead. And he could no longer hurt us.

I blinked my blinding tears away as my body
changed
back to my smaller half, tightening around Shayna’s stake like an angry fist. “Get … it … 
out
.”

I shrieked at Danny’s first attempt. And his second. And his third. If it wasn’t for the overwhelming scent of sex and chocolate returning, I may have slapped him senseless.

A dark boot stepped into my line of vision. Another vampire had arrived.

Waist-length ebony hair drifted in the small breeze, falling into a perfect cascade across his shoulders as the wind settled. The vamps before him had been
GQ
in their dress. He was more motorcycle mag in his black T-shirt and jeans. He crouched beside me, his expression curious. “Stake in the ass?” he asked, his voice thick with a French accent. Although I didn’t answer, but rather growled and tried to claw him, he nodded. “I hate it when that happens.”

He yanked it out before I could move. I fought not to roar, beating my fists against the ground.

The vamp examined the stake closely. Like all of Shayna’s makeshift weapons, it failed to keep its form, returning to a small twisted twig in his hand. He sniffed the blood. “Interesting,” he said, before tossing it over his shoulder. “Now tell me,
mon ami.
Where is Giovanna?”

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my butt as if it could fall off and doing my damndest to ignore the puncture wounds burning their way across my shoulders. My sisters and Danny hurried to step in front of me. Shayna tossed me her gray sweater while the vamp continued to eye us with interest.

I released my cheek enough to yank on her sweater. Danny and my sisters had seen me naked before. That didn’t mean I was comfortable being unclothed and vulnerable. Especially with another predator so close.

The vamp frowned slightly. “You will not tell me?” He motioned to the closest mound of ash. “Why do you protect her?”

“Who?” Shayna asked.

“You do not know of whom I speak?”

“No.” Shayna glanced around. “None of us know a Giovanna.”

The vamp angled his chin again, more curious than threatening, and sniffed the air.

“What the hell is he doing?” Taran muttered to Danny.

“Smelling the air. Preternaturals can scent lies.”

The vamp smiled. “That is true. Seeing your lack of knowledge, perhaps I ask the wrong beings, no?”

He stalked a few feet away into the section of knee-deep dry grass. It was strange that he gave us his back. He obviously didn’t fear us, either because he was too stupid or because he was too lethal. Knowing our luck, he wasn’t the dumb prick I wanted him to be.

He spread the blades of tall grass aside until he found what he was looking for. He then stood, holding a vamp’s severed head by the tuft of his curly hair. I recognized him as the one Shayna had chased and evidently decapitated. We jumped when the head’s eyes whipped open and he snapped his fangs at the vamp.

Again, this wouldn’t have happened to Buffy.

The biker-clad vamp shook his head as if reprimanding a naughty child. “Ah, Dunbar, you try my patience. Now tell me, where is your lovely Giovanna?”

“Eat my mother’s shit, Quennel. I shall not betray my mistress!”

Quennel nodded. “Perhaps you are correct.” He tossed the head. It rolled in our direction like a ball with chunky skin and stopped at our feet, hissing at us.

My sisters screamed and so did Danny. I gaped at it, not wanting to believe what I saw. The thing was spitting mad, snarling and chomping at the air. Shayna went into complete freakout mode. She grabbed a small branch and bashed the head like a kid hell-bent on cracking open a piñata.

“Harder!”
Taran shrieked. “
Harder
. Oh,
Gawd,
it’s eating the stick!”

The head clenched the branch between its fangs. Shayna shook the branch, making the head bop and bounce until the tip snapped off and the head spun toward Emme. She jumped behind me, screaming while pieces of wood oozed from the vamp’s split neck.

Quennel appeared beside me, startling us yet again. “What strange creatures you are indeed, little ones. But I fear your tactics won’t suffice. Allow me.”

He jogged down the field and cut left. The head hollered, “No, no,
no
!” as the remainder of his body rose from another patch of overgrown field and bolted toward the neighborhood.

Quennel raced after it with little effort, grabbed it by the shoulders, and punched through his sternum. The body exploded into a cloud of ash, just like the abandoned head on the ground. Our stares traveled from it back to Quennel, who leisurely returned to our side.

“A vamp over three hundred years old requires both decapitation and destruction of the heart,” he said. “Lesson learned, no?”

We nodded in unison, all of us appearing at a loss for words. I moved forward, still
suspicious of our latest visitor. “If you’re not with these vamps, what are you doing here?”

“I tracked Giovanna’s family, when they tracked him.” He sniffed in Danny’s direction. “You are the son of Joseph Matagrano?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s my dad.”

“Did Giovanna take him as her keep?”

“Keep?” Danny asked.

Quennel smiled, showing a little fang. “Someone a master vampire controls—a vampire he creates, or a human he regularly feeds from. Were they lovers?”

Danny’s skin blanched. “I don’t know. My father is a well-known attorney. I think he might have represented Giovanna for something a while back; but he doesn’t date, even though my mother died over a decade ago.”

“He may not have wanted Giovanna,
mon ami.
But vampires are hard to resist.”

“I can see that,” Taran mumbled. “Well, I’m not blind, Celia,” she snapped upon catching my glare. “Did you see what they looked like?”

“Before or after they tried to eat us?” I hissed.

Quennel chuckled. “Nature has been kind to us. Our scent, our looks, it’s our way of attracting food so it comes to us willingly. Otherwise we are not permitted to take.”

“I wasn’t willing just now,” I added with a growl. “One of these vamps tried to bite me, and he didn’t care whether I’d deny him.”

“Yes, it has been rumored that Giovanna ignores our laws and takes as she pleases.” Quennel’s irises darkened. “But to allow her family to do the same? This is very bad for her.”

Shayna grimaced at the mound of ash that used to be a snarling head. “How bad?” She pointed to the pile. “This bad?”

“Mm. There has been talk that she’s unhealthy in the head, shall we say?” He pursed his full lips. “The courts won’t bother hearing her pleas now. And I’m under no obligation to show her mercy.”

Danny’s face brightened. “So you’re here to help me—to save my dad? Thank
God.
He’s really weak. I think she’s been draining him of his blood and—”

Quennel raised his hand, silencing him. “My presence is not on your behalf. It’s on behalf of my master, Angelo Cusamano. He
turned
me decades ago. Like him, I am a master. Should I kill Giovanna as he asks, I’ll inherit her keep, her power, and her domain.”

I gave him a hard stare. “So you’re only out for yourself?”

He smiled. “Humans are food to me. Not pets, or anything to distress over. As a vampire, I am not allowed to kill you—only to take the small amounts of blood I need to nourish myself. But that does not oblige me to save you. Only
weres
carry that burden.”

“So you won’t help me.” Danny’s voice cracked with frustration and hurt. If Giovanna had claimed his father as Quennel believed, God only knew what she was subjecting him to.

Quennel watched him. “No, but I tell you this, young Matagrano. Should my killing Giovanna result in your father’s freedom, it would benefit us both, no?” He reached into his back pocket and handed him a business card. “If you find her, tell me. I’ll do the same for you and perhaps we’ll both obtain what we want.” He waited while Danny called his phone so he’d have his number, then turned and walked away. He’d only taken a few steps before he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “I urge you to find your father quickly. If Giovanna is fixated on him, she’ll attempt to
turn
him. If he’s as weak as you claim, he won’t survive the bite.”

My hands split the kitchen table in half. Taran grunted, “Damn it, Celia, try and keep still, Emme’s almost done.” She held one arm, Shayna the other. Neither could keep me still despite using the full weight of their petite bodies.

It didn’t feel like Emme was almost done. Her torturous attempts at healing had me jolting and growling. My butt and face burned as if branded and my shoulders begged me to saw them off. It was all I could do not to bolt. Tears spilled down my cheeks as the bones of my face realigned with a sickening crunch and the holes in my shoulders filled in.

After what felt like an hour of torment, the relentless throbbing slowly subsided. “Oops,” Emme said.

My spine stiffened. “Oops? What do you mean by ‘oops’?”

Shayna shoved her face in mine. “Well, your butt sort of looks like you were attacked by a lion.” She looked back. “With braces.” Another glance. “And he seriously kicked your ass.”

“Fabulous.” But it wasn’t like anyone but me would miss the old cheek.

I tried to remember how to breathe as I stumbled into our bedroom and slipped on a new shirt and a pair of jeans. “You can come back in, Danny,” I called. When I returned to the kitchen, I slumped into the closest chair, grateful I could at least sit.

Emme wrung her hands. “Um. Sorry, Celia. I wish I was better at this sort of thing.”

I waved off her apology. Emme was sweet, and meant well. That’s why she’d done so well as a hospice nurse, and why she’d continue in that field when we moved. If we moved. And if we didn’t die. Damn, what a night.

She made her way to Danny’s side and clasped his shoulder. “Sorry you had to wait, but don’t worry. You won’t take as long as poor Celia.”

Danny rubbed his bruised throat, his hesitation spreading across his face. “Uh, that’s okay, Emme. I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He sighed as he took in our somber expressions. “Listen. I know I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess—”

“No kidding, Danny!” Taran pulled at her destroyed shirt and then shook out bark and
blades of grass from her hair, irritated. Her fire had caused patches of grass to burn. Since she was immune to her flame, she had rolled herself across the grass to extinguish it. Let’s just say she wasn’t in the cheeriest mood. “This whole thing is a shit storm with no end in sight.”