Cursed (The Brookehaven Vampires #4) (79 page)

The box was old and looked very similar to the ones in the pictures Amber had shown me. It was a wooden case, about the size of a briefcase, but not as thin. The case was divided into several sections. In the red, velvet-lined top, there was a shallow pocket. Sticking out of the pocket was a large tarnished silver cross. There was also a small book
with a worn black cover. It looked like a very small and very old bible, or something like it. I didn’t pull the book from its spot to find out. I had learned my lesson about strange books, and that was why I also wasn’t touching the two Felix had brought in with the kit.

There was also a
long, wooden stake in the lid of the case. It was held in place by a leather strap. The stake was most likely made from a specific type of wood—a type of wood vampires liked to keep secret from the rest of the world, especially from the other races—the ones that sought to hurt them and destroy them. As for the bottom of the case, it was deeper and contained four open compartments.

The large middle compartment contained several small
er stakes, some dried herbs, and a small metal box that I couldn’t get open. Carter was unwilling to give it a try.

There was also a plastic water bottle
with some of the herbs floating in it. That wasn’t something I’d seen in any of the pictures… I recalled Avery holding it when we were in the orchard basement…

The left compartment
held a variety of bottles containing a selection of liquids and other such stuff. The right side contained a very old pistol and some bullets. The bullets looked to be made from silver. As Amber had explained when she’d shown me photos of the kits, the original slayers believed in the myths. They believed, as some still did, that silver, holy water, crosses, and such were ways to rid the world of vampires. Amber also told me that most vampires liked to keep those myths going because these falsities keep the vampire race safer.

Made sense. If you kept the slayers ignorant to the true ways to take a vampire’s life,
it would make them harder to kill. However, Amber also informed me that the new generation of slayers was not as ignorant as those of the past. Not good.

There was a smaller compartment across the back that held a dragon’s claw. This claw was quite a bit smaller than the one
I’d seen Paul carrying with him.

The compartment also contained a dagger with an interesting handle. Without touching it, Carter told me that he thought the handle was probably made from bone. Vampire bone, most likely. To me, and I was far from an expert, the handle of the dagger looked like it was possibly made from an antler. The handle also appeared stained with years of use and moments I
didn’t want to imagine, but the blade was a gleaming silver.

The case, and the fact I kept touching items in it, made Carter nervous. So I closed it and locked the latches. I also called him a wussy.

While Carter flipped through the charred remains of the book that had made me forget who Oliver was and think Ashton was my boyfriend—
excuse me a moment while I try not to vomit
—I hesitantly began flipping through the book Professor Morgan had given to Avery. It was the same book Oliver had stolen from Avery’s father…the same man who had been my mom’s angel… How unfair was it that he’d gotten a chance to know her, but I didn’t?

I focused on the book and its content
s. I needed something to keep my mind off of my caged boyfriend and the fact my whole life was some sort of pretend farce.

The book was old
and ancient-looking. As I flipped through it, I realized that it contained writings in several different languages, none of which I could decipher.

I kept flipping
pages while still sitting atop the table, trying hard not to think about what Oliver was going through.

The kit had been a good distraction. As had the book, although it turned out to be disgusting. When Felix returned, he informed me that the cover was, in fact, made from actual vampire skin. Needless to say, I dropped it right then. Felix was the only one who
was amused.

After gathering the case and the books, and hurrying off to store them away in a locked room somewhere, Felix returned and invited us to join him in questioning Habitha.

Nervous about what kind of questioning would take place, I followed.

Ninety-nine percent of me wanted
Habitha dead, but I didn’t want to witness the act take place.

There were two doors, each led to a row of cells. Oliver was down at the end of the row behind the door on the right. He was alone. All of the others where behind the door that we took on the left. I wanted to take the other door and see how Oliver was doing, but from what Carter had uncomfortably told me about his previous full moon experience, I knew it would be unwise.

Habitha, along with Oscar, were being kept away from the other prisoners. Felix explained that the reason was for “precautionary measures.” Whatever that meant.

However, in order to get to them, we had to pass several cells loaded with fallen and wingless angels, some
very agitated Weres, and a handful of witches who had survived the “battle below,” as Carter liked to call it.

Like the cellblock w
here Oliver was caged, this row also had cells lining one side of the long walkway, while the other side was a solid concrete wall. I was staying pretty close to that wall as we made our way down the row.

The
races were not mixed within the cells, they had been separated.

As I eyed them while passing by,
I found it interesting that the angels weren’t complaining or even near the bars. The others, especially the Weres, were hissing at us, calling out words that were not very nice, and some even cried pleas of innocence. But not the angels, they were sitting on the concrete floor, huddled in the center of their cells with their backs against each other. When I vocalized this observation, Felix was happy to clue me in.

“The bars are made from firestone,” Felix explained. “It is the only element in our
realm able to contain them.” He nodded toward the small, wide-eyed group of witches hanging onto the bars and watching us pass. “Iron binds any who have magic. It does not hurt them like the firestone hurts the angels, but it prevents them from using their powers.”

Glancing back at the now silent witches, I noticed each one of them had iron cuff
s around their wrists and one around their neck. It reminded me of the collar Zane had been wearing. I wondered if it was made from firestone, and if it caused him pain…

Returning my attention forward, I sighed. No Weslins in any of the cells. This meant
that along with Ashton, Avery and her dad (my mom’s corrupt angel) were still on the loose, free to continue torturing me and those I loved.

We passed a couple of empty cells before we reached Habitha and Oscar who were toward the end of the row.

“It is about time,” I heard a familiar voice call out from farther down the tunnel. Oscar was leaning on the bars of his cell, his arms draped over the bars and hanging out of the cell.

“Laney,” he said to me with a curt nod as the three of us stopped before his cell. It was a very un-Oscar
-like behavior. I’m sure my surprise was evident on my face. The smirk that formed on Oscar’s lips confirmed this.

Habitha was two cells down from him, an empty cell between them. She called out to Felix and then called me a very unfavorable name. Felix was in front of her i
n a split second. He had his massive arm squeezed through the bars and his hand around her neck, right above her iron collar.

Habitha
pawed at his hand while she struggled for air. Her feet were no longer touching the floor. Felix’s chest was heaving while the witch struggled. Her gray eyes met his while her heavy body struggled and her feet kicked wildly.

“I should have done this ages ago,” he said. He tightened his grip on her throat, crushed her windpipe, and then snapped her neck. I heard the sound, the awful sound of it happening as I watched, horrified.

Like many other moments I’d witnessed, this was an image that would haunt me.

I turned away
, and Carter, sadly still in Oliver’s body, was quick to grab me, pull me against his chest, and hug me tight.

Oscar began
to clap slowly. “Bravo,” he said.

I turned my attention to him, lifting my head from “Oliver’s” chest, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Felix drop Habitha’s lifeless body to the floor.

“You should have killed that bitch, I mean witch, a long time ago,” Oscar said. He casually rested his arms on the bars again, and he grinned at us.

Felix headed back to Oscar’s cell, but his sky-blue eyes met mine for a quick second. “I am sorry you had to witness that,” Felix said in my mind, “but I am mostly sorry that it did not restore Oliver and Carter to themselves.”

I nodded. I had no words. I appreciated his apology, but I too wished I hadn’t seen the act, and I was also sorry the guys hadn’t been switched back. Actually, sorry was not strong enough a word. Devastated was more fitting.

“You seem well,” Felix said to Oscar as he stopped
in front of his cell.

There was a small part of me that feared Felix might kill Oscar too. Even after all the crap Oscar had pulled since Oliver and I had gotten together, I
didn’t think I was okay with him dying.

Oscar’s
sapphire-blue eyes met mine for a brief moment, and then they slowly moved to Felix’s. “I am,” he answered, his voice a little too casual. “I have never been more clear-minded.”

A tiny smirk formed at the corner of Felix’s mouth. He cocked an eyebrow at Oliver’s twin. “Is that so?”

Oscar straightened, causing his arms to fall away from the bars. He was steady, calm, there were no tremors, no twitches, no fangs showing, just a, believe it or not, sane Oscar.

“I want what my brother promised me,” he said, his voice suddenly very serious. “Do not make me regret this alliance.”

Felix’s demeanor changed. Things were no longer amusing. To anyone. Chills raced over my body as Felix took a step forward, and I tensed, as did the arms still holding me.

Felix was easily two of Oscar, probably three, but Oscar
didn’t budge, or even blink at Felix’s change in attitude or his sudden closeness.

Felix lowered his head, his eyes narrow
ing on Oscar’s. “Your brother is not here, nor does he have the power or the rights, as of this moment, to make any sort of promise to you,” his voice a heavy growl.

Oscar’s own eyes narrowed on Felix’s. He squared his shoulders, stuck out his chest, and lifted his head a little higher, still refusing to back down.

“If your brother does not return to himself, he loses all power within the coven. Therefore, I will take over guardianship of Juliet and her daughter. Do you understand me?”

With his eyes still narrowed, Oscar nodded, slowly.

“Then I suggest you give up any and all information that will help your brother.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened
, and it twitched, just as Oliver’s did when he was angry. “The witch, Habitha,” he spat her name, “she and Helos created the curse. But they were not alone. When they cast the spell, Habitha’s entire coven was present. Every one of them participated so that the curse, the spell, would be stronger. Their first try was too easily broken.”

“First try?” I questioned. I pulled out of
Carter’s grasp and took a step forward.

Oscar’s eyes shifted to me. “The Weslin boy, the notebook that you took from his bag, it was meant to cause
him and Oliver to trade places. Obviously it did not work as planned.” He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes returned to Felix.

Holy shit.
What if it had worked? What if Ashton and Oliver had swapped? What if Ashton was the one in Oliver’s body?

Just the thought terrified me! I had so many goose bumps
, my skin actually hurt.

“Clearly it did you no good to kill the sorceress,” Oscar
said to Felix. “You would’ve been better off using her as leverage.”

Felix stepped forward. His whole, massive body visibly tense. “Why did you not mention this before I took her life?” Felix growled, but even so, his voice boomed throughout the cellblock.

The other prisoners suddenly grew louder. I think they heard what Felix had said. I think they knew Habitha was dead. They were not happy.

“You did not ask,” Oscar simply responded. He dropped his arms to his sides.

By the scary look on Felix’s face, I thought he was going to rip Oscar through the bars one piece at a time. But he just stood there, before the cell of Oliver’s twin, his chest heaving.

I think
Felix was doing everything he could to prevent himself from killing Oscar.

There was a sudden spark in Oscar’s eyes as they darted to me, a bit of madness returning.

I stepped back, taking Carter’s hand and holding onto him for support. For comfort.

Oscar appeared sane, but he
wasn’t, and Felix knew; he’d known from the moment we’d stopped in front of the cell.