Cursed

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Leif!" Elora whispered in a desperate tone. She leapt up from the armchair in the living room, her panicked expression racing to the doorway, to the hall, where Leif had just strolled past the open door so casually, as if he wasn't trying to avoid a certain woman in this house.

"Leif," she repeated, hurrying after him.

They were now in the kitchen. He reached into the fridge for a bottle of cold water, he ignored her, pretending she wasn't standing there calling out his name as he gulped down almost half of the bottle. He had been for a run, it seemed.

Elora pretended not to notice he was wearing the same clothes he wore the day before.

"That's it, I'm done. You don't get to treat me this way, Leif. You don't want to be my friend? Fine. The kiss was a mistake, for that I'm sorry but you acting like this needs to stop. You tell me there's nothing wrong with me, and yet for a week you treat me as though I have the plague." She couldn't stop the tears from flowing.

She had cried more in the last month or so than she ever had in life.

Before the incident with Timmy Sidbrooke, It was hard to catch her crying. Other than her parents death, Elora almost never shed a tear.

This was changing her. It had already changed her.

"You're a child. You're a child throwing a tantrum!" she yelled, hands coming up to her face to wipe her tears.

Leif made a grunting noise. "Elora." It was the first word he had spoken to her in a week. Her name. He had spoken her name and it had the same effect on her as always.

"You don't want more from me, Elora, I can't give you more! Don't you get it? I can't, I won't. I'll keep you safe, I'll come for you when you truly need me but I can't be with you. I'm not...I'm not the man for you, Elora," he downed the rest of the water before tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin.

He sniffed the air. "I'm sorry for the way I have made you feel. It wasn't intentional. There is nothing wrong with you." he reminded her, heading for the archway with the intention of taking a shower.

"Leif, wait," Elora reached for him. He tumbled back.

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Leif," she felt like a broken record at this point.

"There is nothing wrong with you Elora. Nothing. That, I promise, that I swear to you, you are so angelically beautiful and you don't have to try." Leif paused. He swallowed his Adam's apple bobbing.

"But I don't want you, Elora. Not like that. I only want to fuck." and with that he was gone and halfway up the stairs when Lex made his presence from the hallway known.

The look on his face was all she needed to see for her to know that Lex had heard every word spoken.

***

Three days later Elora refused to leave the comfort of the warm sheets.

She felt like a fool. A fool for believing even for a second that Leif might have wanted her like she wanted him.

She would go downstairs for food at this point and even then, she tried not too. How did this happen?

How did my life get so... dramatic.

Ah, yes. I shot a powerful man's dearest brother.

I shot him, because he tried to mug me.

His accomplice got away with the £5 note and some change I had. His friend lost his life, and he gained £5 and some change.

And then that same friend, had later lost his own life to Leif's hands. Leif, the man that saved my life more than once. The man that isn't entirely human but he had killed a man for her.

I wondered once or twice, were they witches? Some sort of magician?

Elora knew if she found out what Lex was, she would find out what Leif was. But she felt rude to ask those types of questions, especially when her prior effort to find out revealed nothing.

If they wanted her to know, she would know.

***

"How long have you been here?" Arrow had asked his 'roommates'.

"I have no idea. We were in the basement at Sidbrooke's house and then we were drugged and brought here. It's almost the same. This time we have an air vent, it's quite the upgrade I'll say." Cale had no traces of amusement in his tone.

The three of them were in a small, dark room. A small square air vent on the wall allowed fresh air in. It was barely big enough to fit a hand throw–not that any of them would attempt such a thing with the fan inside spinning a web of wind. They would lose a finger or two.

"I'm so sorry Cale. I tried to find you two, he caught me snooping around and then he offered me this or a grave. I took the deal that included both of your wonderful faces."

Arrow ran a hand through his thick hair. He hated this. He hated feeling so trapped, so helpless.

He had become an officer of the law to avoid the powerless feeling he had grown up with. He wanted to be able to protect himself and anyone he cared about, he had been alone for a long time when he met his best friend. When he met Cale.

And he had failed. Not only himself, but his friends.

"This is a lab, I think. The lab." Arrow added.

Cale stiffened.

"Shit. The Lily laboratory." He knew where they were. The lab his parents had worked at, the lab that was most likely responsible for their death, their murder.

"And," Arrow spoke, biting his lip, his eyes roaming the room like a boy in trouble, like a child about to be lectured by his parents.

"Sidbrooke somehow knew about mt shapeshifting abilities. He injected me with something before he threw me in here with you guys, and now I can't feel my inner pulse, it's like a psychic cockblock on my power. They seem to know an awful lot here about the supernatural." Arrow itches his arm, suddenly feeling like thousands of little insects were crawling on him. He shivered. The sentastion quickly left him as fast as it had arrived.

"We're fucked." Rosalie spoke up from her corner. There was one double mattress on the floor and a few blankets. An actual hole in the wall with a small toilet and a rusty sink on the other side. For that he was thankful.

"You can't shift?" Cale asked.

Arrow shrugged. "I haven't had a moment to try but no, I don't think so. I was tempted to go all butterfly or something and escape through that air vent but I doubt I'll be quick enough to avoid a slicing death." That was presuming he could shift.

"I know, right. Yes, Rosalie. I does seem that we are indeed fucked."

***

"Will you find her?" Ivar asked the person standing in front of him as if they had a choice.

His companion sighed. "I don't think I have a choice. You have never given me a choice."

"Well then. Shall we, dear?" Ivar offered his hand.

The newcomer rubbed at their eyes. Ivar's newest round up hated themself for this.

But it was the only way.