Cursed to the Bone

56. Misery?

My head ached when I blinked my eyes open. Whatever I was drugged with, it slapped hard. Hard enough that my vision blurred and my limbs weighed like a blanket of bricks. Straining to see, I took in my surroundings. The room was dark, but I could see enough. I expected some dank prison cell in the coldest reaches of some nasty dungeon. That was not the case. Instead, I was in a four-poster bed in some bedroom, the fabric overhead a crimson color that boiled my blood. Lucien fucking Lacroix.

My head spun as I pushed myself up to sit. The heaviness in my wrists was due to anti-magic cuffs. Logical. They wouldn't want their prisoner leaving after all the trouble they went through to get me there.

In all, there was one light; a candle flickered on a table between the bed and the door. Every inch of the walls was covered in portraits and animal busts. A curtain stretched across the right side. A window, probably. There was a dresser on my left and a strange display with swords pointing in all directions.

A dangerous object for such a dark room.

The door opened. I squinted into the light cast from the hallway. The shape of a woman appeared. She sauntered in, her chuckle giving her away. It was Lauvet.

"You're awake. Fantastic timing."

Withholding a sarcastic response, I lifted a hand. "Shackles, huh?"

"Can't have you getting out, now, can we?" The candles in the room lit all at once and I could see everything with greater clarity. Lauvet rounded the table, her silky red robes swaying around her as she curled a strand of black hair around her finger. "I heard you learned Relocation. Makes you something of an annoyance."

I didn't have an answer for that.

Sitting beside me, Lauvet flashed a brilliant smile. "It's nice that we could finally meet in my turf. I believe I owe you something of a . . . gift."

Oh, yeah. She was still angry I slashed her throat. Panic made my stomach squirm. "A gift? You don't have to," I tried.

"I insist. I thought long and hard about the best gift I could give you." Lauvet turned her back to me and yanked my sneakers off my feet, tossing them to the ground a short distance away. "Your curse makes punishing you easy, you know? I almost wish my daughter had one growing up." Her finger traced my ankle bone. "Almost."

This crazy bitch was going to break my ankles. There were worse fates, of course. As long as she didn't kill me, anything she broke could be healed. I just had to survive. That didn't mean I was ready for the pain.

Leaning down, she lifted a hammer from the floor at the end of the bed. Her arm arched back and the hammer came down hard.

My vision turned to squiggles as I shut my eyes and screamed. The pain shot all through my foot and leg. My head felt so light I thought I might faint. I fell onto my back, forcing my eyes open, and took fast breaths.

"I'm going to need your cooperation." Lauvet rested the hammer against my other ankle. "Or you're going to be in a lot of pain, soon. I'm not above torture, but my ire is not your torch to bear."

"What do you want?" I panted out, ignoring the threat. I curled my fingers in the bedspread beneath me. It didn't feel so cold in the room anymore.

"You're going to sign some papers for me when Killian arrives. If you're good, he'll fix you up."

"If not?"

The bed shifted as Lauvet stood, and the hammer landed on the floor with a heavy thump. Her footsteps led away from me. "He'll do whatever he has to."

Then the door creaked open and slammed shut.

Breathing in, I pulled myself up with the bedspread and leaned as far forward as I could for a peek. My ankle was already bruising, swollen, and disjointed. That could be a problem on my escape attempt—if I ever got the chance.