Warped Read online

  “Or Beauty and the Beast,” he interrupted calmly.

  With a nod of her head, she continued. “A new, separate reality is made. One that touches the original, or as I know it, true reality.” At his confused look, she said, “It’s like a lake being connected to the ocean by more than one river. It’s still connected to the ocean, but it’s still separate. With curses, they usually affect something small — a house, a grave, a room — and they take it away from reality, so that it stands apart. Whatever is touched by the curse is untouched by time. When a curse is broken, the things that were cursed are returned to their original time.”

  “A house,” he repeated contemplatively, “but my curse is far beyond a house. This encompasses a castle, surrounding grounds, and the nearby village.”

  “I know. I think it’s bigger than even you realize. I started working on finding you two years ago — almost three, actually. In that time, every night, I had a nightmare about your woods.”

  He grew still, and Jess was sure that if she could see it, his face would be pale.

  “Nightmares of my wood?” he asked sharply.

  “The shadows and the woods — the darkness following me. It’s always there, waiting for me. Every night I dream about walking through the woods and finding the iron gate. I’ve never made it through until last night. Then today, I find you.” A shiver ran down her spine, brought by a shot of fear. She moved closer to the fire, trying to chase the chill away. The frost was closing in, and despite being told to ignore it, she couldn’t. The frost brought fear with it, and the memory of the bitter cold of her nightmares.

  At her words, his breathing grew shallow, and he gripped the marble mantle, claws digging into the stone. White dust sifted down, glinting in the firelight. “Why is my curse following you? You are not the cursed one.”

  “No,” she said. She drew her arms over her chest and leaned closer to the fire. “But I’m trying to get rid of it. And it knows — god, it knows. It’s doing its best to get rid of me, to drive me away. But I’ve never given up on a curse yet, and I’m sure as hell not going to start now.”

  “If you were to leave now? Would it follow you, or would you be free of its influence?” he said. He forced his face to resume the calm mask, but his tight shoulders betrayed the tension he still felt.

  “At this point, I’ll never be free of it unless I break it. Every night, it terrifies me. It does its damndest to break my resolve. But it can go to hell,” Jess snarled.

  He closed his eyes briefly, as if to gather himself. “You are not going to break my curse just for the sake of freeing me. You are doing it for yourself as well,” he said, no accusation in his voice.

  “I’m doing it for everyone involved — you, me, the villagers — everyone.”

  He seemed to accept the answer, and with a nod, stepped away from the fire. He picked up another broken, dried log and put it on the glowing coals. “One last question, if I may.”

  Jess nodded and leaned against the side of the hearth, basking in the heat emanating from it.

  “Who trained you, Mademoiselle?”

  “When I was younger, my parents. After they died, Gabriel and Victoria, two other breakers, stepped in. Victoria has been my mentor for the last seven years.”

  “Your parents are dead?” he asked, his voice holding a sorrow that surprised her.

  She didn’t want to see the sorrow in his eyes, so she turned to watch the advancement of the curse. The only part of the room safe from the frost was the small section they were standing on, heated by the small fire. Thick shadows collected in the corners of the room as the curse lie in wait for some unseen sign.

  “Mademoiselle?” he prompted softly.

  She watched the frost start to form stalactites, hanging from the ceiling. “They sacrificed themselves to free a village of children under the curse of a Pied Piper.”

  “And if my curse requires your death?”

  She stared at him, knowing she would make that sacrifice without a second thought — just like her parents and countless other Breakers had done at the end of their lives. Somehow, though, she knew that this wasn’t the end of her life — hers was only beginning. “It won’t,” she said decisively. “But, on the off chance it does, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “You would sacrifice yourself for a stranger? How unusual.”

  “Sometimes, the only way to break a curse is with that sacrifice. It’s rare, but it happens. That’s why my parents gave their lives to save all those children. Prince, my job isn’t just what I do: it’s also who I am. I’ll be damned if I let you stay cursed when I can fix it — even if it does require my death.”

  “No one has risked their life for me — before or after the curse,” he said softly. He stared into the firelight.

  A small smile brought the corner of her lips up. “And right now, I’m not either. But I’m here, now.”

  “Even so...if you should fail,” he hedged. He looked at her out of his peripheral vision as if she were a ghost and looking at her full on would cause her to disappear and leave him alone. “Here, you come and tempt me with returning to a human — with the chance to return to my life as it was...and should you fail, that thought — that dream — will have been ripped away.” He took a step back, and his foot crunched on the frost. His breathing increased, and with a sharp shake of his head, he finished, “No, I cannot have that. You know nothing of the severity of my situation, and less of the curse that controls me.”

  Jess gave a bitter laugh that brought his shoulders tight with returned tension. "And you know nothing of my situation,” she repeated. “You know hardly anything about me, Prince. I have lost everything to damn curses. Everything. I have no parents, no home — nothing outside of breaking curses.” She scowled at him, and when she jabbed a finger toward him, he pulled back reflexively. “I'm going to fix your curse, whether you like it or not. I can’t fix my situation, but I sure as hell can fix yours.”

  He turned to look at her, green eyes catching the flickering light from the fire. “Perhaps you are right. I do not entirely believe that you can free me, however.”

  “I don’t need you to believe me. I just need you to let me help you.”

  “What is it you require to free me from this hell I have languished in for so long?”

  Taking a deep, calming breath, she sat back down and returned his gaze, steady and even. With her anger and frustration reined in, she said, “All I need you to give me is time, Prince.”

  “Mademoiselle, time is all I have.”

  Seven

  “If you will follow me, Mademoiselle,” he said. “I would like you to accompany me to a safer location.”

  The fire was dying, leaving a pile of glowing embers behind. The frost coated the entirety of the room, crunching underfoot as they walked to the hallway. When she looked behind, stalactites of frost grew from the ceiling, the edges glittering ominously in the faint light of the embers. The curse was strong here, surrounding them, and she quelled the fear it produced as she followed his massive form.

  He shut the door firmly behind them, cutting off the curse from reaching them so easily. In the hallway, the afternoon light was failing, and the shadows settled in as they bathed the castle in darkness. She squinted at her watch, bringing her wrist closer to eye level. The clock face read just after 2 pm. She frowned, puzzled. It shouldn’t be getting dark yet. Not in May, and certainly not in the middle of the day.

  He walked past her, stopping in front of a large window, his broad shape outlined by the dim light. “S'il vous plait, see what you will be battling.”

  Slowly approaching him, she stopped and stood at his side. Outside, shadows moved, bending around the statuary. Her fear spiked, but she quelled it, telling herself that it was all a product of the curse. The shadows devoured the light from the sun, leaving only the vestiges of twilight. Through the dusky light, snow started to drift down, softly coating the leaves.

  She looked from him to the dark gardens
. She’d known the curse was far-reaching, as it encompassed the castle, forest and village, but she hadn’t realized it was affecting the weather to this extent. “The village was in spring...how is it snowing here? It’s the curse, isn’t it?” she asked flatly, already knowing the answer but needing the confirmation. She stepped back as the darkness leached the dismal colors from the gardens. Snow was falling harder now, completely shrouding the ground.

  He locked eyes with her briefly before returning his gaze to the dark gardens. “The castle and grounds are stuck in a hell of eternal winter. There is no change of here: no spring, summer or autumn. The only thing that remains is the cold and ice.”

  “Your curse is…” Her words trailed off as a shadow stretch out an inky finger, as if to blot out the very stars in the sky. She sucked in her breath and stepped away from the window. “Your curse is more massive than any I’ve seen.”

  The gloom had fully devoured the last of twilight. Now, she couldn’t even separate the dead hedges from the sky. She had a feeling that if she stepped two feet away from the castle and looked back, she’d be looking at a blank nothing.

  “Are we safe, at least?” There was a quavering note in her voice, and she despised herself for it. She’d dealt with worse, but somehow this was bringing a fear to the surface that she hadn’t felt since she was a child.

  She thought back to when she was four years old, and hiding under her bed as she waited for the monsters to come out of her closet. At least then, her father had been able to protect her. He was gone now, and the only person that could protect her was herself.

  “For now,” he said, his voice pulling her out of the memory. He started walking down the hallway before turning back to her. “Shall we continue, Mademoiselle?”

  Darkness pressed against the window, covering the few stars that tried to gleam through. Jess took an involuntary step back, but she could still feel the cold penetrating the thick glass.Fragmented arms of blackness stretched through the window as they tried to reach her.

  “I gotta say — it sure feels like I’m in immediate danger right now,” she said, her voice rising slightly despite her efforts to control it. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the effects of the curse as it infiltrated her mind, ramping up the panic and terror even as she tried to control it. Through the last two years, the nightmares had gradually grown worse until they made sleep almost unbearable, but she’d never felt truly in danger until she came to the iron gates.

  Lightning flashed, illuminating the hallway. He looked at Jess, and for a moment, she thought he looked despondent. As the lightning flickered and died, the look in his eyes hardened, unreadable once again.

  “Not from me,” he finally said.

  “Thank heaven for small favors,” she muttered to herself. As she stole a glance behind her, the stone floor seemed to grow paler. Hesitating, her eyes focused. Frost grew on the stones, following their footsteps. “But you aren’t what I’m afraid of.” Her words brought the Beast to a standstill.

  “They will not harm you as long as you stay close to me.”

  “And if I don’t?” A lump grow in her throat as her footsteps grew white with ice.

  “Then I do not relish moving a new statue to the garden,” he growled.

  “Point taken.” She hurried to catch up to him.

  With a huff, he set off through the ornate hallways. Jess caught him looking askance at her and repressed a small smile at the concern on his face. He led her through a series of maze-like corridors. She marvelled at the carvings and ornate decorations that covered the walls.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, unable to control the awe in her voice.

  “Thank you.”

  Jess followed him through a door into a cozy sitting room. So unlike the room he’d first taken her to, this room was tidy, with a table and chairs in front of the fire, and two padded chairs against the back wall, one laden with books.

  A well-kept fire burned deep within a stone hearth, the coals glowing bright orange. She stepped close to the heat, soaking it in. A copper kettle hung from a hook beside the hearth, and she watched the Prince swing it over the fire.

  “Please, sit,” he rumbled, gesturing to one of the chairs beside the table closest to the hearth.

  She swung her knapsack off her shoulder and set it beside the chair. Staring down at the chair, she glanced at the fire. With a wry twist of her lips, Jess shoved the back of the chair, moving it closer to the heat. It was solid oak, thick and heavy, and it clattered over the rough floor, the noise making the Beast wince. With a sigh, he grabbed it and yanked it to a standstill beside the fire.

  “Thank you.” She sat down on the embroidered cushion.

  His eyes flicked to her before he bent over the hearth, his large frame dimming the firelight. He poked at the coals with an iron rod and moved them until they were flat and even.

  “You are not what I thought the beast was going to be like.” she commented as she watched him tend the fire.

  “What did you imagine? A brute? An animal?” After a curious look at her, he grabbed a log from a small pile and tossed it onto the burning embers. He tensed, as if unsure of her response.

  Calmly, she said, “I didn’t know what to expect. All the stories are different, ranging from the beast being just that — a mindless beast — to someone like you, with your mind still fully intact.” She gave a small smile when he looked at her, his expression unreadable.

  “I suppose I could have played the part of the beast and chase you away from my castle.” he mused, his eyes darkening as the coals glowed brighter. “I could make you so terrified you would never return.”

  She pressed her back into the chair, hand stilling as her muscles tensed. The heat from the fire had faded now, replaced by the chill of apprehension. She could feel the curse wreathing her, amping up the tension from a sliver to a wave. Now that she knew what it felt like, she ignored it for what it was — a distraction and a weapon, meant to send her scurrying away like a terrified mouse.

  “However,” he continued, unaware of the battle within her, “it has been centuries since I have talked with another person who did not run from me, let alone someone who can have a civilized conversation. I have spent centuries by myself, with only my thoughts for company.”

  Jess let out a soft exhale, trying to diffuse the tension that still remained. “I like to be alone with my thoughts for a little bit, but centuries without any contact — that would be hard — impossible, really.”

  “Prior to the curse, I was never without companionship before my affliction. I was surrounded by people at all hours of the day. Not until the curse did I ever know true loneliness,”

  The thought that such an extrovert was driven to be alone made her ache for him. It would have driven her crazy, but here he was, not just having a civil conversation with her, but entertaining the idea of letting her help him. That was more than she expected so early in the relationship between prisoner of a curse and the Breaker. It usually took a good week or two of contact with the cursed to convince them to even speak to her. That alone told her spades about him, his loneliness and his intelligence.

  “The curse was supposed to have been broken three hundred years ago, right?”

  He let out a brittle laugh, the harsh sound contrasting sharply with the rich timbre she’d gotten used to hearing from him. “It was never supposed to have been broken. It was written to be. Marguerite knew she had not broken it when she left, and still, she left me here, twice.”

  “What about the people in the village?”

  “You do know what the peasants would do if they saw me, do you not?”

  “Peasants?” her fingers stilled their tapping at his choice of word.

  “The villagers below.” He gestured towards the general direction of the village.

  “They’d come after you with pitchforks and torches,” Jess said archly. “Especially if they heard you calling them ‘peasants’.”

  He gl
ared at her. “That is what they are.”

  “No, they are people that are trapped here just like you. I don’t see you doing any ‘ruling’ from your throne, either,” she said, matching his glare.

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “The ‘villagers’ would come after me. Better?”

  “Much. Thank you,” she said, noting the surprise in his eyes at her candid ‘thanks’. “Would they be able to get to you?”

  “Not once I reached the relative safety of my grounds.”

  “They’ve caught you before, haven’t they?”

  “Yes, they have,” he said almost too low to hear.

  Jess’s thoughts went to the blind overlooking the village, and the tuft of hair caught in the tree. Her heart gave a painful ache at the thought of always watching and yet never part of the crowd…“You watch them, don’t you?”

  He glanced at her sharply, but didn’t say anything. His eyes narrowed, and he shifted his weight so slightly that if she hadn’t been watching him, she would have missed it.

  Jess continued, “I was exploring the boundaries of the curse, and I found a small trail. It led to a tree, with a platform high above the town. I could see the whole thing from end to end, but they couldn’t see me, could they?”

  He lowered his head, eyes closing. “No, they could not.”

  Tears pricked her eyes at the misery in his voice. “It must be so hard, watching them from afar. I understand that — being in the world without being part of it.”

  “I doubt that, Mademoiselle. I sincerely doubt that,” he said roughly.

  Despite the gruff tone, she could swear she saw his eyes glitter with unshed tears. She shook her head and crossed her legs at the knees. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  He grunted. “Perhaps you are right.”

  “You watched me, didn’t you? From the tree?” She recalled the tuft of pale gray fur she’d found.

  “If I did?” His eyebrow arched as if she had challenged him.

  “If you did, then what did you see?” she questioned curiously.

  He grunted and thrummed his fingers against the chair. “You moved through the village as if you did not belong. The villagers ignored you, giving you a wide berth when they were able. Then you found your way to the lost road, and then you came to my castle.”