Free A Curse Awakened: A Weird Girls Novella by Cecy Robson Page B

spoke in a deep-timbred voice intermixed with soft, gruff growls. “So, you found a way to let me in, little tigress.”
    “Huh?”
    I stepped away as he advanced, but my actions didn’t dissuade him. He smiled. Or I thought he did. Crap, what exactly was happening here?
    “Don’t you know me, Celia?” he asked.
    “No.”
    I didn’t see him move, I just felt a strong arm gently circle my waist while a large hand passed through my hair to skim along my bare back. Soft lips swept along my jawline. “Are you sure you don’t know me?” he rumbled.
    In my reality, I would have shoved him away, but not before I snapped off at least one of his wandering hands. But every stroke, every whisper of his warm breath, soothed and enticed me. My lids fluttered. “Oh, no … I’d remember you …”
    His heartbeat pounded against my breasts, reassuring me with each rhythmic pulse. This was right—no,
he
was right.
    Somewhere deep within my mind, I recognized this male as another preternatural. One that wasn’t a part of me, but one I had no desire to abandon. Perhaps he was the start of REM sleep—a developing dream or fantasy of what I really needed in a man. Or maybe, just maybe, he was real.
    His lips passed over mine. “Do you know me now, Celia?”
    Rock-hard muscles passed beneath my palms as my hands slid along the silky skin of his broad chest. “Hmm?” I managed.
    He nuzzled my neck, laughing once more. “I asked if you knew me.”
    “No,” I groaned. “But I really want to …”
    “Celia,
Celia
!”
    I startled awake, pissed as all hell my dream was interrupted.
“What?”
    My sisters blinked back at me from their seats. Emme dropped her hand from my shoulder. It took me several seconds to realize we were parked in our driveway. “Are you okay, honey? You were making strange sounds and weren’t waking up.”
    Strange sounds? Oh,
God.
Had I been that vocal during the best pretend make-out moment of my life? Based on my sisters’ shocked expressions, I had. “Um … I’m just hungry. It’s been a while since I’ve, you know, eaten.”
    A wicked smile spread across Taran’s face. “That’s not what it sounded like to me.”
    Shayna angled her chin. “Yeah, and why the heck were you touching yourself like that?”
    I jerked my hands from my breasts “Uh …”
    Taran busted out laughing as Danny hurried out of the house, practically falling in his haste to reach us. He banged on the window, even though we were staring straight at him. “Quennel called. He found my dad!”
    * * *
    We rushed to strip out of our blood-caked clothes and into old worn ones we could risk being re-bloodied in. To my surprise, Emme’s newfound
touch
had healed even my old scars. My butt was whole once more. Yippee. Too bad I likely only had more wounds to look forward to.
    Shayna drove us in Danny’s truck. Now, we typically didn’t allow Shayna to drive anyone, in anything, anywhere. The tri-state area was packed with crazy road-rage drivers ready to smash into anyone who cut—or flipped—them off.
    These same drivers were scared shitless of Shayna.
    Case in point, she stomped on the accelerator almost the entire way to the Jersey Shore. “Brakes are for pussies” was Shayna’s unspoken motto. Her idea of slowing was releasing the gas pedal just enough to serpent around any cars ahead. No one passed Shayna, ever. And no cop could give her a ticket while Taran’s influence was around.
    Since it was past midnight and Labor Day was now long gone, there were few cars on the parkway to compete with Shayna’s might. She laughed like the
Looney Tunes
witch chasing Bugs Bunny on her broom as she barreled through the night. No curve was too sharp, no speed too high. Shayna was a woman possessed by the ghosts of Indy racers past.
    Damn those evil ghouls.
    I gripped the armrest and kept my eyes glued shut. “What’s the plan, exactly?”
    Danny screamed briefly as Shayna cut a sharp left, then an immediate