Cursed (Enchanted Gods #1) - K.K. Allen Page 0,17

structure juts into the ocean. Huge waves crash over the end of it, sending water spraying high into the air.

Past that is a row of large coastal homes that appear dated compared to the ones in Summer Estates. In fact, the farther down the road we travel, the older the houses seem to get. One house in particular sticks out like a sore thumb. It looks completely abandoned, with chipped paint, angled shutters, boarded-up windows, tall weeds for grass, and overgrown pathways. Yet, I can see past the distress and visualize the beautiful landmark it once probably was. But even as it is, I’m strangely comforted by the sight. To know this town isn’t the immaculate storybook land I initially thought is enough to ground me back into reality.

My eyes are still focused out the window on Charlotte’s side as we pass another public beach, this one clearly not as well cared for as the one near Summer Estates. It’s completely deserted, save for a man dressed in all black. It’s him.

My pulse takes off racing. From the T-shirt that stretches around his muscles, to the cap he wears low enough to cover his eyes, and to black slacks that make me desperately want to know where he’s headed, there’s no question that it’s the jogger from last night—the older guy with the unforgettably harsh glare.

I’m relieved he doesn’t look at me this time as we pass. Letting him catch me staring the first time was almost too embarrassing to handle. I don’t think I would survive it again.

“Here we are.”

Charlotte’s voice cuts through my racing thoughts, and I look forward to find the landscape changing before my very eyes. As we escape the last of the worn-down section of the neighborhood, we start to pass over an arched one-lane stone bridge. Its rails and end posts are sculpted like Greek pillars with a statue of Apollo and his bow perched on each one.

Beyond the end of the bridge sits a castle-sized black iron gate with “Summer Island” written in metallic gold above it. A matching gold Greek sun with an S separates at the middle when the doors begin to open.

“Summer Island? You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter. “My grandparents developed this too?”

Charlotte’s light infectious laughter floats through the air. “Your grandparents’ parents, yes. Rose and George just added all the embellishments.”

I don’t even notice the guard house to the side of the gate until Charlotte slows the car and rolls down her window. “Hey, Herk. Meet Rose’s granddaughter, Katrina. I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot of her.”

They exchange a wink, then he leans over to smile at me. “Well, well, well. She does exist,” he exclaims. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Katrina.”

“It’s just Kat.” I can’t help but smile back at the charming and animated man.

“Of course, of course. Well, I’m Herkle. But the people around here call me whatever they want. Herk. Herkie. Hercules.” He holds up an arm, pushes up his massive bicep, then winks as if it’s some inside joke.

I let out an awkward laugh, not knowing how else to respond. “It’s nice to meet you, Herkle.”

“Will I be seeing you at the next Encha—”

Charlotte gives him a wave, cutting him off, while starting to drive forward again. “Not yet, Herk. In time.” Then she faces forward, leaving me confused, and drives through the open doors of the gate.

“What was he talking about, Charlotte?”

Charlotte shrugs and tosses me a smile. “There’s a weekly event Rose runs. Kind of like a town hall meeting but a bit more exclusive. You’ll attend one soon enough.”

I don’t want to speak my thoughts aloud. The last thing I want to do is attend a town hall event. What would be the purpose of that?

Large overgrown trees shade the winding pathway for what feels like miles before the branches thin out and I’m able to see the sky again. My jaw drops at what opens up before me. Among Greek-inspired buildings with a contemporary spin, temple structures make up office buildings. There are outdoor restaurants, a shopping center, and a large stadium, which holds what appears to be an athletic center of some sort, with tennis courts, basketball hoops, a track, and a pool. It’s like we’ve entered some sort of ancient Greek paradise.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Charlotte is staring back at me with a smile that lights up her entire face. Obviously, she’s proud of what my grandparents created.

I’m still wrapping my brain around the