Cursed

By April Zyon

Krista Reins has the unfortunate luck of being able to hear the dead. While it's helpful for her job, it can be downright annoying in everyday life. She does her best to assist the locals, but stays as far as she can from the Feds. She couldn’t give them any answers that wouldn’t get her locked up in a padded cell, and she has no wish to be in one. But when Eric comes looking for her she wonders if her life is finally changing for the good, or if this is yet another sick twist of fate to knock her to her knees.

Eric Thorvaldsson knows that you get out of life what you put in. A warrior at heart, he also understands the beauty of a painting, the joy of music, and the pleasure of a woman. What he never expected was to find his woman right before the world went to hell. When the Darkness unleashes its forces to ensure they don’t walk away with the woman, Eric knows it might come down to an all-out fight to the death to keep her safe. And he has to keep her safe, she is his everything.

Getting home to the mountain will be a chore with a killer on Krista’s tail who is bound and determined to keep her away from her man. Krista and Eric will have to work together to keep one another safe from whatever comes their way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight Publishing
• Release date: Dec 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781773391212

April Zyon

Having been a lover of the written word all her life April has always wanted to expand her horizons and write something that could be shared with the world. Only one thing held April back, the fact that the letters and numbers mixed and jumbled more often than not. Diagnosed with Dyslexia when she was eight years old April had to work her butt off just to be able to keep up with the other kids in reading and writing, so her love for fictional writing was tossed to the wayside for the moment. Time marched on, as it always does, and she forgot her childhood dream of becoming an author and instead focused on what she had to – creating a career for herself. As the endless waves of time passed the shores became less rocky and more sandy, a place where she could find an even foot. That and Microsoft invented Word. Hallelujah. This is where April began her journey into the written world, the world that her imagination had been ceaselessly creating for her entire adult life. Now she has been given a chance to let her literary wings unfold and fly, thanks to the amazing publishers with Evernight Publishing and Secret Cravings Publishing. Now its time to let the dream take flight and watch it soar! What do I write? Fantastic question. I’m an author of erotic romance with flair. I love to create new worlds, love to make strong Alpha heroes and loving feminine characters that make these bad boy Alpha’s want to love them.

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2016 April Zyon

ISBN: 978-1-77339-121-2

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Jessica Ruth

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.

CURSED

Warriors of Light, 6

April Zyon

Copyright © 2016

Chapter One

The house loomed out of the darkness like a great hulking beast, its windows like black, soulless eyes. The front door was left gaping open, which seemed to serve as a permanent scream. The yellow crime scene tape was strung like pearls around the front porch and drooped into the red hydrangeas like a sick sort of blood. The whole scene seemed to scream that bad things had happened here, in case anyone missed the stench of burnt flesh as well as the eerie silence. The absence of even the sound of insects was enough to speak of the sadness and horror that this home had beheld.

The lights of red, blue, and white still flashed, the shadows broken only by that world-known strobe of a police light. The only sound heard was the crackle of dispatch making a call to one of the officers that milled about the old mansion that had seen something beyond horrific.

Krista Reins lifted the badge, a shiver of apprehension racing up and down her spine. She didn’t want to be here. Every fiber of her being wanted her to turn and run. Nothing would cleanse the site where she stood currently.

Sheriff Chapman sent for me. They didn’t need to know who, or rather what, she was. All they needed to know was that their boss had sent for her.

Of course. You’re the specialist he said to look out for, the young deputy with the slightly green pallor to his skin said. He’s in the front room, ma’am, just through the door and to the left. It was clear he didn’t want to go in there; likely he had seen far too much, she surmised.

I’ll find him. Krista smiled at the young man.

Not so young… one of the spirits hanging around said, making eye contact with Krista for the first time. He’s older than you are.

Krista took in the ghost’s print dress and the striking resemblance she bore to the deputy. The woman was a deceased relative, she was sure. She gave the woman a small smile but said nothing, not wanting to attract any more attention. Several ghosts were drifting closer—a woman in a blood-stained, green tank top, a young girl clutching a ragged teddy bear. Deep shadows lingered near every shrub and corner of the property, and Krista could hear the muted sounds of anxious whispering. The dead were restless. Mentally she asked them to be quiet, to allow her to do her job and find what she needed to find in order to put them to rest.

Do you have booties for me? she asked quietly, refocusing on the deputy. The woman beside him inched closer, then ran a transparent hand through his hair, and he shivered. Krista kept her expression neutral and when he passed her off the clean pair, she gave her thanks.

Pausing just on the other side of the yellow tape, she slipped the booties on and pulled her long, honey-blonde hair back and tucked it into a cap, then finally pulled on her gloves.

Several spirits—mostly women, all young—had stepped from the shadows closest to the front porch. None spoke. After taking a deep breath, Krista looked to the dead that milled around her as if they had taken numbers and were waiting to talk to her. In time, she whispered before entering the home.

Krista. The sheriff looked up, then nodded to a man in a suit at his side, a man who scuddled off like a rodent searching for darkness. Thank you for coming so quickly, he said, moving toward her.

Krista looked around at the bodies lying there like macabre mannequins set for a play. They were positioned from heel to head, smallest to largest, with exactly one foot between each body—and each corresponding ghost was off to the side. They were gathered in a group, the males holding the females. They weren’t talking until they saw Krista, saw that she could see them. One of the older ones came forward. Krista switched her focus back to the sheriff. What do you have for me? She didn’t want the niceties. She wanted to move on and find out who had snuffed out the lives of these young people far before their time.

Right, okay. He moved back to his spot. The nearest we can figure is that they were all here for a game. He gestured toward the game board that had been found under the coffee table. A Ouija board. From the whispers and the nods from the dead, Krista could tell that he was on the right track thus far. This place has sat empty for years. Kids coming in here happens more than you’d think. But something like this… He glanced down at the bodies and sighed.

There were just the thirteen?

The sheriff nodded.

And they were already arranged like this, lined up, when the first officers arrived?

Again, a nod.

One of the teens, a girl, stepped forward to join the boy, approaching Krista. Her clothes were torn, and blood streaked across her pale skin. Krista turned slightly, facing away from the sheriff, as the girl began to speak. They took our blood, she whispered, her wide-eyed gaze fixed on Krista.

Krista felt her blood run cold. Why would someone harvest blood from these kids? What interest would anyone have for the blood from innocent kids? She glanced to the boy who stood protectively next to the girl, then raised a brow in silent question, but he only shrugged.

Okay, but here is the issue. She moved to one of the bodies and bent slightly. Where is the blood? I see a small amount of it, but not as much as I would imagine there would be. In truth, there wasn’t a significant lack of blood and spatter among the crime scene. Had the dead not pointed it out, Krista wasn’t certain if the slight discrepancy would have been noticed.

Krista’s blue eyes narrowed as she took everything in. Then she looked from the sheriff to the other men. No one saw anything?

The neighborhood is still being canvased. But so far, we’ve got nothing. No witnesses. No suspects. No motive.

Suddenly, the dead were all talking at once and it was confusing her. These kids had gotten together to call something to them, to call a power to them that they didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. She eyed the ghosts again, trying to see beyond the ruined bodies and torn clothes. The four boys all looked as if they were the type to be into things like online role-playing Wizarding games, and the nine girls were all young, no older than sixteen or seventeen, she guessed, and seemed to be misfits. That was the only word she could find for the poor girls. She was positive that if she were to look into their lives, she’d find that they came from broken homes or had issues that needed therapy.

We’re all virgins, one girl said, her voice rising above the others. We all belonged to the same chastity club at school. The men who came here tonight, who did this to us, they were looking for virgins.

It was that last bit that had Krista biting back curses that would have had everyone looking at her. Instead she took a deep breath and forced a tense smile. We have some serious mess on our hands, Sheriff. I think it’s time to call in the FBI, because this is over what we can handle here. She saw the anger that flashed in his eyes, but continued. You don’t have the manpower and you know it. We need to call them in.

Fine, he growled. I just want this shit over and done with. This many dead kids ain’t good for nobody.

Especially when said kids were