Cursed Superheroes (Books 1-3) Read online

  I sigh at the realization. Another year spent in a cage. How sad.

  My thoughts soon drift elsewhere the longer the empty silence ticks by.

  Where is my sister? She usually visits me by now. Maybe she’s finally gotten sick of me. I wouldn’t blame her. We can’t do much except talk through the bars. No hanging out, watching movies, or painting our toenails. My sister does tell me stories of what she does with her friends, so I don’t feel completely isolated. At least that’s what I tell her. Really, her stories make me think too much about the experiences I’ll never get to live.

  Maybe you should just give up. Perhaps your sister will understand.

  “What do you think, Mr. Spider?” I ask the tiny black critter scurrying across the damp cement floor. “Do you think it’s time for me to go and take my venomous existence out of this world?”

  The spider ceases the creeping and turns toward me. Hope sparkles inside me. Have I somehow attained the ability to speak to other venomous creatures?

  “Do you understand”—I grip the bars of my cage—“what it feels like to be feared by all? To be unwanted?”

  The spider stands in front of my cage for a split-second before scurrying up the water stained wall.

  “Lovely. Now I’m talking to spiders who clearly don’t want to listen to me.” I release the bars with a sigh, the water from the leaky shower head dripping onto my forehead. My father installed it in the roof above my cage so I could have a way to stay clean. I also have a toilet for … well, you know. Other than a bed, some clothes, and personal hygiene items, that pretty much sums up my lovely iron bar palace.

  Wiping the water from my head, I scoot back in my cage until my back brushes against the piles of new pillows my sister recently brought me. Honestly, I don’t get why I need so many—my small cage doesn’t have very much room—but my sister looked so excited when she gave them to me that I didn’t have the heart to tell her no thank you.

  “At least they’re comfortable. Although, awfully frilly.” I sink back against the pillows and watch the clock tick.

  One, two, three hours drift by. I don’t have a window in my room, but I think sundown has arrived. That means all those evil, eerie monsters that go bump in the night will be coming out of their caves to torment the citizens of the town—again, this is all from what I was told by my parents. Creatures like me.

  My sister, being a human, is at great risk if she crosses paths with anything fanged or venomous. She could end up dead, like my parents.

  I miss them like crazy. Miss the way my mom used to read me bedtime stories, and when my father brought me an extra cookie from the kitchen. And even though they could never touch me, hug me, or hold my hand, they told me they loved me and that they wished things could be different for me, that I could’ve been born normal like my sister.

  After they died, my sister was stuck with the responsibility of taking care of me. I feel sorry for her, even though she insists she’s okay with the situation. I can tell it wears her down. And who can blame her? She’s nineteen years old, in college, has a cute boyfriend—at least, he looked cute in the photo she showed me—and a ton of friends. Yet, she comes to visit and take care of me, like a good sister. Every day.

  Except for today.

  “Where is she?” I mutter, eyeing the time on the clock. “She should’ve been here by now.”

  Maybe I’m overreacting. She could’ve decided to stay at a friend’s house or her boyfriend’s for the night. Still, I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning when she brought me a day’s worth of food with the promise to come back today. My sister may be flaky, but she’d never let me starve.

  Something’s wrong.

  As soon as the thought crosses my mind, the doorknob to my chamber twists.

  I bolt upright and scoot toward the door of my cage, excited she’s here. And relieved. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was beginning to worry …” My jaw nearly hits the floor as the door swings open.

  The person standing in my doorway isn’t my sister, but a guy dressed in black jeans and a matching T-shirt and boots. He looks on the taller side, has fiercely teal eyes, heavily inked arms, and dark hair that hangs across his forehead and curls up at his ears. His brow and lip are pierced, and a series of black rings cover his fingers. I don’t know much about guys, but I’d guess most girls would consider him extremely good-looking. Well, except for the pissed off scowl he’s sporting. That takes his hotness down a notch or two, unless you have a thing for brooding guys.

  I eye him over, wondering who he is and why he’s here.

  When a strange scent of earth and spices burn at my nostrils, I tense, suddenly aware he isn’t human. I don’t know how I know this. Just like I don’t know what he is. What I do know is having an unknown, otherworldly creature in your room is never a good thing.

  Chapter 9

  I inch away from the entrance of my cage, my gaze trained on the intruder. “You’re not my sister.”

  His brow teases upward as he casually leans against the doorjamb. “Really? What tipped you off?”

  I haven’t interacted with anyone outside of my mom, dad, and sister, and none of them were or are fans of sarcasm. However, I’ve watched enough movies and read enough books that I’m fairly certain he’s being sarcastic. From what I understand, the best way to deal with sarcasm is to match it.

  If only I knew how.

  Guess I’ll never figure it out until I try.

  I clear my throat. “Well, definitely not your girlie hair and facial features.”

  His arched brow plops down into a furrow. Then he stares at me hard, making me feel like a zoo animal.

  “That was my first try at sarcasm,” I explain, wondering if I missed the mark and he thought I was being serious. “I don’t really think you look like a girl.”

  “Thanks for explaining the obvious.” The crinkle at his brow erases as he straightens his stance and enters my room, his heavy boots thudding against the concrete floor.

  I open my mouth to warn him not to come any closer. Otherworldly creature or not, he deserves to know what my touch can possibly do to him. But the words get stuck in my mouth as he nears my cage. Only my family has ever been this close to my cage, and they always hurry and drop food, clothes, and cleaning supplies before backing away quickly.

  I watch him in awe as his gaze skims the low ceiling and the water dripping down the walls.

  There’s a guy in my room. A stranger. Why do I feel so excited about this?

  When he’s finished inspecting my room, he turns to me with a smirk. “Lovely set up you have here.”

  Okay, I think he’s being sarcastic again.

  “Thank you.” I attempt to sound more sarcastic this time, hoping I don’t fail epically again. “My interior designer will be so pleased to hear that you like her work.”

  He stares at me, unimpressed, but for the briefest instant, the corners of his lips twitch. “Very funny.”

  “Um … Thanks?” I reply, unsure if we’re being sarcastic anymore.

  With an eye roll, he begins wandering around the outside of the cage, tracing his fingers along the bars. I have the strongest urge to reach out and brush my fingers along his, but I haven’t touched anyone since I was three years old when my parents informed me that I’d turn into a monster one day. They said we needed to take precautionary measures to make sure I never ever hurt anyone, and that’s when the cage became my home.

  Reminded of their warning never to touch anyone, I cower back in my cage and hug my knees to my chest. “You shouldn’t do that,” I whisper.

  He stops walking, but his hand remains on the bars. “Do what?”

  “Touch my cage,” I say quietly. “You shouldn’t even be in my room.”

  He wraps his fingers around the bar. “And why’s that?”

  The amusement dancing in his eyes deeply confuses me. Why does he think this is funny?

  “Because I’m poison. If you touch me, something bad could happen.”
I cast a panicked glance at the door. “How did you even get in here? Wasn’t the house locked? Or did my sister let you …?” My body stiffens. “Wait. Did you do something to my sister? Is that why I haven’t seen her all day?”

  He stares at me for an unnerving amount of time before pushing away from the bars and crossing his arms. “How long have you been locked up?”

  “No. I’m not answering any of your questions until you answer mine first.” I kneel in my cage and put my hands on my hips. “Did you do something to my sister?”

  “And what if I did?” He places both his palms against the front of my cage, his amusement doubling. “Would you reach through the bars and touch me?”

  I swiftly shake my head. “No. No matter what you did, no one deserves that punishment.”

  His pierced brow cocks. “And what kind of punishment is that?”

  I shrug. “You’ll probably think I’m crazy if I tell you.”

  “Try me.”

  “According to my parents, my touch will cause something worse than death. I’m not sure if that will happen or not, but it’s not like I’m going to try to touch someone to find out.”

  “Hmmm …”

  “Hmm, as in you think I’m crazy?” I ask. “Or hmm, that’s a very interesting story? I definitely won’t be touching you right now.”

  “Hmm, as in hmm …” He grips the bars as he leans in close. “Although, there’s something definitely crazy about you. Or, I guess I should say maddening.”

  I frown, feeling silly. “See, I told you you’d think I was crazy.”

  “I didn’t say you were crazy. I just said that there’s something crazy about you, which you’ll understand eventually.”

  “You make no sense. That’s okay. I don’t really care if you believe me or not. I just want to know what you did to my sister.”

  He deliberates something with his gaze fixed on me. “What if I said I killed her?”

  I swallow the painful lump in my throat. “Did you?”

  His gaze never wavers from mine. “I’m not going to answer that question until you answer mine. What would you do if I told you I killed your sister? Would you try to hurt me? Try to touch me and find out if your touch is truly terrible?”

  “No,” I whisper hoarsely, tears stinging my eyes. My answer feels twistedly wrong, but nonetheless true. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  His eyes narrow. “Liar.”

  I wipe away a tear that manages to escape. “I’m telling the truth. My touch … it’s supposed to do awful things, and that’s why I won’t ever touch anyone.”

  “So, you’re saying you’ve never touched anyone in your entire life?” he questions with cynicism.

  I shake my head, more tears pouring out of my eyes. “Not since I was three. Then my parents found out about my curse. They didn’t know when it would happen, so I’ve never touched another human or otherworldly since that day to avoid risking someone getting hurt.”

  He steps back and crosses his arms. “And you just accepted what they told you? You didn’t question them?”

  “No … Why would I? They’re my parents.”

  He stands in front of my cage with his arms folded, a series of emotions flickering across his face. Mainly pity fills his eyes. Then he promptly shakes his head and squares his shoulders while lowering his hands to his sides. “You shouldn’t trust people. Most are liars.”

  “My parents weren’t.”

  “If you say so.”

  I ball my hands into fists at my side, getting frustrated.

  Before I can work up a good comeback, he steps toward the door to my cage.

  “Since you answered my question, I’ll answer yours. I didn’t kill your sister. No one was home upstairs when I walked in.”

  “How did you get in then? Wasn’t the door locked by some magical charm? That’s what my parents always told me?”

  He shrugs. “It was. I asked the door to open.”

  My brows dip. “What does that mean?”

  He smirks. “I bet you’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

  I nod eagerly. “I really would. I can tell you’re not human, but I don’t know how I know that. And I don’t know much about otherworldly creatures, except for what I’ve read in books. But books don’t really help when it comes to running into one in real life. Well, maybe they would if I lived in real life and actually saw otherworldly creatures on a daily basis. But since I live in here”—I shrug—“you’re the first anything I’ve met outside of my family in a really long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Fifteen years.”

  His smirk makes a grand appearance again. I can’t decide if I hate it or love it.

  “You really shouldn’t have trusted them.”

  My lips curve into a hurt frown. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”

  “Fine, don’t believe me. I’ll prove it to you.” Then, without warning, he slips his arm through the bars and grabs my arm.

  Panic flares up my throat, and I let out a deadly scream, knowing when the noise ends, I’ll be consumed by the guilt of hurting someone.

  Chapter 10

  I scream until my lungs burns, until I run out of breath, until my heart aches …

  Until I realize nothing’s happening.

  The scream dies in my throat as the guy outside of the cage throws me a mocking smirk.

  “See? Nothing.” Arrogance rings in his tone as he withdraws his hand away from my arm.

  I instantly realize how warm his hand was making my skin.

  Warmth. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything like it before. Well, except for when the heater kicks on or when my dad used to sneak me down a cup of hot cocoa.

  I want the warmth back. Crave it.

  I can’t help wondering why the guy looks completely okay after touching me.

  Puzzlement cracks through me, leaving a jumble of pieces behind.

  “Is it because you’re not human? Is that why you’re not hurt?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s because the Shadow Teller only told your parents bits of the future, not the whole story, which has led to a lot of confusion and a lot of unnecessary seclusion on your part.”

  “I don’t understand.” My frown deepens as the confusion continues to splinter me apart. “What’s a Shadow Teller? And why would my parents lie to me?”

  “They didn’t lie, per se. They just didn’t know the entire truth.” He taps his finger against the lock on the cage while studying me. “Eventually, your touch will become destructive. But, if you choose, you can use it for a good cause. Personally, I wouldn’t. But considering you started out human … well, you might be able to keep your conscience after the transition.”

  “Transition?”

  He sighs exhaustedly. “Look, I can’t explain everything right now. Not until the curse has been completed.” He starts to back away toward the door, but pauses as tears pool my eyes.

  “You’re leaving me locked inside here?” I ask, all teary eyed.

  He shrugs. “It’s just for one more day.”

  I knee walk over to the door of my cage and wind my fingers around the bars. “What happens in a day?”

  He seems awfully squirmy over me turning into a big old cry baby. I feel bad for making him so uneasy, but I can’t seem to get the waterworks to shut off.

  He scratches the back of his neck and shifts his weight. “You turn into what your parents told you you’d become.”

  More tears spill out of my eyes. “So, I only have one more day before I become a monster?”

  He glances at the clock. “Actually, only about half an hour.”

  I start to sob, my shoulders heaving. “But I’m not ready.”

  “Will you stop that?” His tone is crammed with impatience. “You’re acting ridiculous right now.”

  “I’m sorry.” I try to stop crying, but it’s no use. “It’s just that, I’ve never done anything outside of this cage, and now I never will.”

  “You
were okay with that a minute ago, when you thought you were already a monster.”

  “I know, but now I realize that I could’ve lived a normal life up until now.” A thought occurs to me, and the tears slowly subside. “I could have some time, if you let me out.”

  He promptly shakes his head. “No fucking way.”

  I rack my mind for a way to get him to give in to me. My sister once told me she manipulated guys by batting her eyelashes and pouting out her lip. I’ve never actually tried doing it before, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to give it a try.

  I jut out my lip and bat my eyelashes as I kneel up straighter. “Pretty please? I swear I’ll be forever grateful. In fact, I’ll even do you a favor in return.”

  He narrows his eyes. “That won’t work on me.”

  I feign being dumb, batting my eyelashes again. “What won’t?”

  He frowns, puzzlement creasing his brow. I try to maintain my pouty face, hoping he doesn’t realize I’m trying to, as my sister puts it, “play him.” I feel bad for what I’m doing, but I really want to be let out of my cage.

  Shaking his head, he huffs an exasperated breath then strides for my cage. “I’ll let you out on one condition.”

  I bob my head up and down. “I swear, I’ll do anything you want.”

  His eyes briefly sparkle, but the look quickly fades. “Don’t ever make that kind of promise to someone like me. You’re lucky I don’t have enough time to make you follow through with it.” He reaches for the lock on my cage. “I’ll let you out, but you have to promise to stay by me at all times. I have to keep an eye on you.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s another thing. If I let you out, you can’t ask me a ton of questions.”

  I pantomime zipping my lips.

  He heaves a weighted sigh. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” Then he taps the lock with his fingertips, and the lock melts into a pool of metal.

  Just like that, I’m free for the first time in fifteen years.

  Chapter 11

  I stare at the agape door of my cage in shock. My heart is a flurry in my chest, sending doubt soaring through me. Is this really happening? Am I free? After all these years?