Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,12

her mouth into a grotesque shape just before letting out a terrifying scream.

I jam my palms against my ears in an attempt to muffle the horrible noise. It’s impossible. I know I’ll never shake the sound, and it seems to be only getting louder. As the girl’s pitch reaches a crescendo, the vase in the reflection shakes violently until it shatters in midair, spraying my bedroom with glass.

Still covering my ears, and with my eyelids pinched closed, I scream myself awake. I continue to scream until someone starts shaking me.

My eyes shoot open, my body stiffening in defense as if the girl in the mirror will attack me, but she’s no longer there. I’m in bed, covered from head to toe in sweat. It was all just a dream.

It’s Charlotte who woke me. She holds me, shushing me as I sob. “It was just a dream. It’s okay. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Fine?” I squeal. My eyes fly open, and I shake my head. The voice beside me is calm and understanding, and I feel anything but. “You think everything is going to be fine? My mom is dead. I’m living in this”—my eyes fly around the room—“ridiculously expensive mansion with a woman I’ve never met. And I’m having all these crazy dreams and visions, and—” I stop myself when my thoughts conjure up an image of the jogger in the black cap. I don’t know what that was, but that didn’t feel normal either. How he glared at me, like he already hated me after just one glance.

“Visions, you say?”

I turn to look at the short-haired blond woman and shake my head, deciding it’s best not to elaborate. “I don’t know what I just woke up from, but that was not a dream.”

Charlotte places her hand on my back. I turn to look at her just as she averts her eyes, causing a knot to form in my gut. Something in her face goes beyond the kind, gentle woman I first met. She’s hiding something. I can see it on her guarded expression.

“You’ve been through a lot, Katrina. I expect you’ll have many more unpleasant dreams.”

“I sure as hell hope not.”

Charlotte snaps her head to look at me and softens her eyes. “I understand that you’re angry, but your grandmother won’t approve of that language. Not in this house.”

I bite my tongue before I spit back a retort that Charlotte doesn’t deserve. She’s right. I’m angry. I’m saying things I shouldn’t. But how can anyone expect that any of this is normal?

With another shake of my head, I sigh. “I’m going to try to get some sleep now. Maybe we can start over in the morning.”

The smile that spreads across her face warms my insides despite current events. “I’d like that very much, Kat.” She pats my knee above the comforter, then she stands and hands me a teacup filled with steaming liquid. When did that get here?

“It’s my special concoction. I promise this will help you get a good night’s sleep. I meant to give it to you earlier.”

I don’t spend any more time questioning how or when the tea arrived at my bedside. I take a few slow sips and thank Charlotte as she’s closing the door to my room. Then I lay my head back on my pillow and easily fall asleep.

The moment I begin my descent of the grand staircase, my mouth tingles at the aroma of bacon and eggs. I’m still groggy from the long trip and lack of sleep, but thankfully, no other dreams haunted me during the night. I follow the scent past the white great room, through a brilliant mahogany arch, and into a lavish dining room decorated in a sea of electric blue—from the plates on the wall to the table coverings and oversized candles on them. I’m mesmerized by it all.

Charlotte greets me at the dining room entrance with a smile. “Good morning, Kat. You look well rested. Your grandmother had to run a quick errand this morning, so I thought I’d give you a tour while we wait.”

“Okay, sure.”

I don’t tell Charlotte how angry my stomach is with hunger. Instead, I let her lead me all over the much-too-large house, trying to not let my jaw drop over every exquisite detail. The main floor is daunting in itself, with what Charlotte told me was a thirty-foot-high coffered ceiling, supported by cast Italian stone columns. They extend all the way to the upper-floor gallery, where the great room