Cursed

Jennifer L Armentrout

Cursed

Advance Praise for

Cursed

“5 stars—Mystery woven between paranormal and love—this book will rock your world!… JLA is my favorite. This book is a classic example of why… DO NOT MISS THIS ONE!”

— Stuck in Books

“There were so many twists that kept me on my toes, some predictable, some out-of-this-world. I had trouble putting this book down, it was so good! I would bookmark my page and then two seconds later, I would be coming back for more.”

— The Bucket List

“Jennifer L. Armentrout writes it like no one else. In my opinion, she is the queen of romantic paranormal YA fiction… For fans of Obsidian and Half-Blood, Cursed is a must read—you will not be disappointed!”

— The Revolving Bookcase

“Seductive and enigmatic—Cursed has plenty of thrills and kills to go around!”

— Wicked Awesome Books

“This book was fantastic… I’d definitely recommend it, particularly to fans of Shatter Me who want to try a book of the same flavor minus the dystopian influence. I’d also recommend it to the readers who are hungry for semi-paranormal stories that don’t involve vampires, fairies, or werewolves for once. Finally, all the current YA readers who are dying for another love story without the love triangle influence, like I typically am, should definitely pick up a copy of Cursed!”

— Memoirs of a Teenage Bibliophile

“Cursed for me was a no-putter-downer. Ha, I made up a phrase. Anyway, what I mean is that even when I wanted to break, maybe pull out my gameboy and play some Pokémon, but the book it called to me. The book dragged me in with its first two pages and held me tight to the very end.”

— Lost Train Of Thoughts

“Cursed is to die for… Literally.”

— Bookittyblog.com

“Jennifer Armentrout has dazzled her fans again in her upcoming young adult paranormal release, Cursed. I am a huge Jennifer Armentrout fan and absolutely love everything she has written, and she has amazed me yet again with Cursed.”

— Always YA at Heart

“After reading Cursed, we are now positive about one thing: Jennifer L. Armentrout is the Queen of crafting novels with kick-butt heroines, drop-dead gorgeous guys and loads of sexual tension! Long live the Queen!”

— YA Sisterhood

“Between the fast-paced, suspenseful plot and complex characters, I could not put this book down. Armentrout kept me guessing the entire time, and that doesn’t happen often. I love the fact that nothing about this book is predictable. Be prepared to lose some sleep with this one.”

— Fall Into Books

“If you love romance, you will love Ember’s and Hayden’s tale. If you love action, you will love to lace up your sneakers and run with Ember. If you love mystery, you will love to break out your CSI skills and try to figure out what is happening to Ember. And most of all, if you love just a damn good book that you can’t put down and refuse to part with (even to pee and eat) you will love Cursed.”

— Tater’s Tall Tails

“Watching Ember go from the girl who would not meet anyone’s eyes as she walked down the halls to a girl who realized she truly had a gift was really enjoyable. Cursed is different from Jennifer Armentrout’s other books, but it’s a great change of pace. I totally loved Dead Hamster Girl!”

— DforDarla’s Definite Reads

“Jennifer L. Armentrout has once again written another book that I have fallen in love with. I’m already a huge fan of her previous books so I went into this book with high expectations and Cursed was even better than I could have ever expected. Cursed had everything that I love to read in a story: an interesting supernatural element, great characters, and a well developed plot.”

— The Reading Geek

“I was astonished at the perfect combination of sci-fi and paranormal romance. Armentrout has a writing style that makes her books hard to put down!… Jennifer L. Armentrout has stunned her fans again. With heart-stopping moments and a plot that will keep you guessing till the end, you don’t want to miss this marvelous addition to the young-adult genre.”

— Unearthly Reviews

“I loved this book so much…. it’s my favorite book of 2012 so far.”

— Sucked Into Books

“From the very first page I could not put this book down. It’s heart-stopping and exciting and every page leaves you breathless and needing more. I think Cursed is my favourite book of all time, yea not just of Jennifer’s but ever. But really no books in the world can top Jennifer’s; her books are just that good. Cursed is a mind-blowing story that is unputdownable and will stay with you long after you have finished the last page… If I could give this book a million stars I would. This book is not to be missed out on. A must-read that I will read over and over again!”

— K-Books

Sale of the paperback edition of this book without its cover is unauthorized.

Spencer Hill Press

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Please visit our website at www.spencerhillpress.com

First Edition: September 2012.

Armentrout, Jennifer L. 1980
Cursed : a novel / by Jennifer L. Armentrout – 1st ed.

p. cm.
Summary:

High school senior Ember McWilliams died in a car crash, but came back – and now everything she touches dies. When a group of people with special gifts tracks her down, she has to decide if they mean to help her – or destroy her.

The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction: Barbie, Discovery Channel, Doritos, Ford Taurus, Google/Google Maps, Happy Meal, Infiniti, Jedi, Jeep, Kryptonite, Lexus, Little Orphan Annie, McDonald’s, Mr. Potato Head, NASCAR, Oreos, Pepto-Bismol/“Pepto,” Play-Doh, Porsche, Prada, Sharpie, Toyota Camry, Wikipedia, Wrong Turn, X-Men

Cover design by K. Kaynak

ISBN 978-0-9831572-7-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-937053-12-3 (paperback)
ISBN 978-1-937053-13-0 (e-book)

Printed in the United States of America

Cursed

Jennifer L. Armentrout

SPENCER HILL PRESS

Also by Jennifer L. Armentrout

The Covenant Series
Daimon (novella)
Half-Blood
Pure
Deity (November 2012)
Elixir (novella)
Apollyon (April 2013)
Sentinel (Fall 2013)

Coming from Disney-Hyperion:
Don’t Look Back

From Entangled Publishing:
Shadows (novella)
Obsidian (Book 1 in the Lux Series)
Onyx (Book 2 in the Lux Series)
Opal (Book 3 in the Lux Series) (December 2012)

Writing as J. Lynn:
Tempting the Best Man
Unchained (Fall 2012)

For my friends and family

Chapter 1

Something soft and warm—definitely hand-sized—settled on my chest, and then moved to the right, headed uphill. I wasn’t sure why I expected to be looking into the baby blues of some hot guy when I opened my eyes. Maybe it was because I’d just had the best dream of my life. But I certainly didn’t expect to be staring into washed-out, ghostly blue eyes.

There was a hamster perched on my chest, its white-and-brown fur covered in grime. Specks of dirt covered my nightshirt, and bits of gravel clung to my bedspread.

I screamed.

Startled, the hamster scurried off my chest and disappeared under the covers. I jumped off the bed, almost face-planting into the worn-out carpet in the process. I ran from the room, wanting to scream again. My heart was still thumping when I slowed outside my little sister’s bedroom. Her door hung cracked open, and my gaze fell first to her bed. Finding it empty, I scanned the room. Early morning light spilled into the bedroom, casting shadows over Olivia’s slight frame.

With her back to the door and head bowed, Olivia sat on the floor. Crimson curls curtained her face. Stepping into the room, I tripped over one of her baby dolls. I forgot about the hamster as I stared down at the doll. One of her arms had been twisted off. Olivia had taken a Sharpie to the doll’s face, marking out the eyes. Then, in the ultimate act of weirdness, she’d scribbled the word “SEE” across the doll’s forehead.

My palms felt sweaty. “Olivia…”

She stiffened. “Ember? I did something bad this morning. You’re gonna be so mad.”

Dreaded words from a five-year-old, but I already knew what she’d done. I moved around the bed even though I wanted to turn and run. There were times Olivia scared the crap out of me. “What did I tell you, Olivia?”

She tilted her head and stared up at me. Her green eyes were wet with tears, shining like glittering emeralds. “I’m sorry.” Her lip trembled. “Squeaky got scared when I brought him back in the house. He ran off before I could stop him.”

Somehow I managed a smile as my eyes fell over her nightgown. Brown flakes of soil spotted the crisp cotton, and dirt sprinkled her little arms and chubby fingers. The shoebox in her lap was covered in filth.

The very same shoebox I’d used to bury Squeaky in the backyard last night.

I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally stringing together as many cuss words I could think of. I should’ve known she’d do this. A violent shiver went through me.

Olivia just couldn’t let dead things be.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But Squeaky loves me and he needed me.”

I skirted around her and dropped to my knees. “Squeaky didn’t need you! Olivia, you can’t do this every time one of your pets dies. It isn’t right. It’s unnatural.” Like it hadn’t been natural to bring back the dead pigeon she’d found in the driveway the other day. Or Smokey, the cat she’d discovered alongside the road.

“But… I did it to you,” Olivia insisted.

I opened my mouth, but what could I say? Olivia had done it to me two years ago, and I was just as unnatural as Squeaky. Even more so… “I know, and trust me, I appreciate that. But you can’t keep doing this.”

She flinched back. “Don’t.”

I glanced at my hands, unaware I had reached for her. Frustrated, I let them drop to my lap. “When things die, it means it’s their time to go. You know this.”

Olivia jerked to her feet. “You’re gonna take Squeaky away from me.”

The scent of death clung to the shoebox, invading my senses. Horrified, I wondered if I smelled like that. The urge to sniff myself seemed too strong to pass up.

“Please don’t take Squeaky,” she went on, getting ready for an Olivia-sized breakdown. “I promise not to do it again. Just let me keep Squeaky! Please!”

I stared.

Olivia stopped moving, but her nightgown still swung around her knees. “Ember, are you mad at me? Please don’t be mad at me.”

“No.” I sighed. “I’m not mad, but you have to promise me you won’t do this again. And mean it this time.”

She bobbed her head eagerly. “I won’t! So you’ll let me keep Squeaky?”

“Yes. Just go get the stupid hamster.” I stood, sighing. “He was under my blankets.”

A bright, beautiful smile broke across her face as she whirled around and took off toward my bedroom. I trailed behind her, my skin crawling as I glanced at the twisted doll. The door to my bedroom hung haphazardly on its remaining hinge.

This house was old, like Civil-War-era old. Everything sagged or slanted at crooked angles. Paint peeled off the walls in sheets like snakeskin. Nothing stood straight. The air smelled of death and decay.

Almost like the house had died two years ago.

Turned out that Squeaky was still under my covers, doing God knows what. Olivia held the squirming ball of fur close to her face. “I get to keep you!”

I clasped my hands together to keep them from shaking. “Put Squeaky in his cage and get ready for school, Olivia. We’ll… pretend this didn’t happen, okay? And go brush your teeth.” I paused. “And don’t even think about wearing your princess dress to school today.”

She stopped in my doorway. “But I am a princess.”

“Not at school. Go.” I pointed toward her bedroom, ignoring the way my stomach was churning.

Olivia skipped down the hallway, completely clueless to how messed up both of us were. “Normal” didn’t have a place on my list of words describing us. I wasn’t even sure “human” would get a vote.

Alone in my bathroom, I stared down at my shaking hands, at the charcoal smudge on the tips of my index finger, and ordered myself to pull it together. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Olivia needed me to be strong. I glanced at my reflection and forced a smile. It was broken.

And I also had the hugest zit ever on my temple.

Awesome.

After a quick shower, I padded out to the bedroom, yanked on the first clean pair of jeans I found, and grabbed a cardigan off the back of my desk chair. A slinky top would have been so much prettier, but the scars patchworking across my arms would have been visible. Apparently Olivia’s healing touch didn’t fix everything.

In gym last year, one of the girls—Sally Wenchman—had seen the scars while I’d changed. Sally had called me “Frankenstein,” and the nickname had stuck ever since.

I snatched my sketchpad and shoved it into my book bag. On the way out, I grabbed the flesh-colored gloves off the chair and slid them on. The long-sleeved shirt hid most of the gloves, and the kids thought I was trying to hide the scars.

It was partly true.

“Are you ready?” I yelled, stomping down the steps. “We have, like, twenty minutes.”

“Yeah,” came the muffled response.

Following the sound of her voice, I found Olivia at the table eating cereal… in her princess dress. Dammit. The kid was weird enough without wearing the same damn dress every day. “Olivia, what did I tell you?”

She hopped up from the table and dumped her bowl in the sink, turning back to me with an impish grin. “It’s too late for me to get changed.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. “You’re such a brat.”

She came to my side, a tentative look on her face. Slowly, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around my glove-covered ones. When I nodded, her grip tightened and all was right in her world.

Two years had passed since I’d been able to touch Olivia without some sort of barrier between her skin and mine. When she fell and scraped her knee, I couldn’t kiss it and make it better. If she cried, I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t even remember what the closeness of someone else felt like. This whole super-special-touch-of-death crap sucked.

Olivia was currently on this kick where she thought she had superhuman strength or something, so I pretended to let her pull me through the house and out to where my Jeep was parked. The dull, black paint gave it a world-weary look, and it needed new tires and brakes. Still, it was my baby. I could caress its smooth, outer frame and roam my hands over its soft interior all I wanted. My heart fluttered to know it wouldn’t keel over and die from my toxic touch.

Cursed

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