Cursed

I looked up, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Do you even understand how creeptastic this sounds?

You’re a complete stranger to me. You keep talking about gifts and stuff that makes no sense.”

“I can help your sister, Ember. Her gift of giving life and healing needs cultivation. And she needs to be around others like her—others who will understand.” Cromwell drew in a deep breath, and his eyes met mine. “Then there is you, and frankly, I’m not sure what to do with you.”

Tiny hairs on my neck stood up. “What do you mean?”

“When I was Olivia’s age, I had no one looking out for me. I’ve made it my life’s mission to make sure no other gifted children face what I did.” A dark look stole away the warmth in his eyes. “Both you and your sister are valuable for different reasons. There are people out there who would seek to manipulate what your sister can do, and abuse what you can do. I intend to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Really?” I glanced around the kitchen for an exit. “That really didn’t answer my question.”

“Your sister belongs here, Ember. For that reason alone, I am willing to take a risk on you.”

There were a lot of doors—escape routes—in the room, and Olivia was upstairs, but I was a weapon of mass destruction. I could take the weirdo. “Is that so?”

“This is your new home,” he said like it explained everything, like he wasn’t a delusional, kidnapping freak holding my family prisoner.

“Huh?” I looked at him.

“You will be staying here from now on.”

Needing no other reason than that, I shot across the table. The edge of the oak table cut into my stomach for a nanosecond, and then I was flying backward. My sneakers skidded across the floor. A second later, an unseen force pinned me against the wall.

Cromwell’s expression didn’t change, but he sighed. “That’s enough, Gabriel. Let her go.”

I hadn’t even noticed someone else was in the kitchen. He stood in the archway—a boy about my age, maybe a year younger, with a head full of blond curls and the prettiest face I’d ever seen on a guy. He had his hand raised in front of him; a look of concentration wrinkled his brow.

“Gabriel,” Cromwell said again. “Let her go.” Gabriel looked like he’d rather toss me through the air some more, but he lowered his hand.

I slid down the wall, stumbling to the side.

“She was going to touch you,” he said, his voice surprisingly deep. “This was a mistake.”

Cromwell pushed away from the table and stood. He turned to the boy. “Gabe, is there something you need?”

Gabe finally pulled his eyes off me. “Where’s Hayden? He didn’t wait around after class. I figured he came right home, like he has every day since you brought her into the house.”

“He’s not in the kitchen, now, is he?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at me.

“It’s okay. Go. If you happen to find my son, please tell him I need to speak with him.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “All right, but if she kills you, I warned you.” With that, he turned and left the kitchen.

“Oh. My. God,” I whispered, heart racing.

“Gabriel is one of my children. There are several kids here your age. They’re a bit concerned, but don’t think they cannot protect themselves.”

I frowned. “I don’t run around touching people for the fun of it.”

He smiled tightly. “I know this is a lot for you to take in, but I will not tolerate you attacking anyone.

Do you understand me?”

I pushed away from the wall. I didn’t reach for him, even though I wanted to. God knew what other superpowers he had hidden in this house. “You can’t be serious. This can’t be legal. There have to be laws against this.”

“This isn’t against any law,” he replied calmly. “Your mother is here with you and Olivia. We did not remove you from her guardianship. And need I remind you that you have already broken the law by not reporting what happened to that boy?”

I ignored that. “Like my mom can even make those kinds of decisions.” My self-control cracked and shattered. “I don’t even understand why you’re doing this!”

“I’m doing this to help your sister, Ember. To help you.”

“How is this helping me?”

His hands dropped to his sides. “You’re seventeen and playing mom to a child. Who, by the way, deserves a life far better than what you can provide for her.”

Ouch. That stung all the way to my core, mainly because he was totally right.

“You’re a guest in my home,” he continued. “As are your mother and sister. But if you think of leaving, or if you harm anyone, I can no longer consider you a guest.”

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at him. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m just telling you how it will be. The others are already wary of you being here. Don’t do anything to add to that.”

“Why did you even bring me here?” I yelled. “Because really, you don’t sound like you want me here.”

“Because your sister is gifted, and I have no desire to split her from you. I’m doing you a huge favor.

There are places you could go to, Ember. Places—”

“You don’t have the right to do this!”

Mr. Cromwell slammed the palms of his hands on the edge of the table. He spoke through clenched teeth, and, like a mask slipping from his face, coldness filled his expression. “I have all the right, Ember.

This is my town.”

Everything stopped as I stared at him.

“We have only your best intentions in mind. Nothing can be changed now.” Another perfect smile graced his lips. “We have already taken all the necessary steps to ensure your transition will be as smooth as possible. You will have the weekend to adjust and on Monday, you will start school.”

Just like that, I lost control of my life. Bile rose into the back of my throat.

“I expect that you understand I’m placing a lot of trust in you. Do not make me regret it. Even though I have no wish to separate you from your sister, if you give me reason to, I will.” He stood. “You’re excused.”

Chapter 5

Upstairs, I struggled to gain control over the heady mess of emotions I was feeling. I wanted to cry and scream. I wanted—I didn’t know what I wanted to do.

I stopped in front of the desk. My outdated, beat-up cell phone was plugged in next to the shiny laptop.

I made a move for the phone, and stopped short. A brand-new set of charcoal pencils lay on top of my sketchpad, next to the phone. I cringed at the idea that someone had looked through it. My drawings were, well, private. No one would understand the dark twist everything took on when I sketched.

I guessed dying kind of warped my artistic flavor.

Unwillingly, my gaze fell back to my phone. I wanted to call Adam, but what would I tell him? I had no idea. So I took a shower, a really long, scalding hot shower. I washed my hair twice. Even after I’d scrubbed myself raw and ruddy-colored, I still had no idea what to tell Adam—or what to do.

Wrapped in a fluffy red robe that clashed horribly with my hair, I stood in front of the closet.

Cautiously, I opened the doors… and then stared in open wonder while the girl in me squealed.

Mingled in with my old clothes were various shirts, dresses, jeans, and sweaters that I could never have afforded in a million and two years. Shoes and boots filled the closet floor, next to what appeared to be a new backpack—one that wasn’t as dirty and ragged as the one Dad had gotten me before the accident. I searched for it, but the one thing tying me to Dad was gone.

Feeling numb, I grabbed a pair of sweats and a bulky sweater. After changing, I picked up my phone, the sketchpad, and a new pencil. As I opened the balcony door, the breezy perfume of pine and earthy rich soil filled