The Raven Four Books 1-3 - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,126
table. “I’m not going to recite it to you, but I’ll tell you the story behind it.”
“Why won’t you recite it?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Because it’s cursed.”
I stare at him dubiously. “You think a nursery rhyme is cursed? You?”
His brow elevates. “What do you mean by you?”
I shrug. “I mean, I can’t see someone like you, this guy who everyone’s supposed to be afraid of, this guy who’s all tats and scars and shadows, being scared of a nursery rhyme. I mean, I thought you were supposed to be scary.”
“I am scary. We all are. And we’ve worked damn hard to make people fear us,” he stresses, scrubbing his hand on top of his head as he looks at me. “You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to think so.”
“I never said you weren’t scary.” When a smug grin starts to tug at his lips, I add, “But I’m not saying I think you are. I’m just saying that it seems weird that an alleged scary dude like yourself would be afraid of a nursery rhyme because you think it’s cursed.”
“Not think,” he stresses. “It is. And I don’t know why you’re surprised. After everything that’s happened, I’d think nothing should surprise you anymore.”
“Maybe. But you have to admit, you guys, this town, all of it is sort of bizarre.” I just wish I knew the full extent of the bizarreness.
“More than you even realize yet,” he informs me, measuring my reaction like he’s just waiting for me to respond with surprise again.
I don’t give him the satisfaction. I play it cool; pretend like I didn’t just have a memory of the Raven Three playing some sort of game with me in the forest.
What did you guys do to me?
It kind of hurts to think that. I know it might make me sound pathetic, but after getting hurt repeatedly over the years, I was kind of hoping this thing with these guys would go down differently. I guess it was stupid of me. Everyone hurts me.
Everyone will always hurt you, Raven, my mom told me once.
I’m starting to realize she said a lot of stuff like that yet never explained why. She was vaguely ominous about everything. Not that she was a bad mom. She was amazing. She was good, kind to me, a badass. She just sometimes warned me about stuff in a weird way, almost like she sometimes wasn’t herself.
“You’ve gotten really quiet,” Zay observes. “Are you finally afraid?”
I shake my head truthfully. “No. And I want you to tell me about this nursery rhyme.”
He studies me carefully. “I’m not sure if I should. It might be too scary for you.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re the one who won’t say it aloud, so who’s the afraid one?”
He narrows his eyes. “I’m not afraid, princess. I’m just being cautious. And you should be grateful for that.”
I gape at him. “Why? It’s just a fucking nursery rhyme.”
“Just a fucking nursery rhyme.” Shaking his head, he comes to a stop again and steps toward me, totally invading my personal space. But I refuse to step back and let him have the upper hand. Then he leans in, and again, I think it’s to try to scare me. “Not only does the person who utters the nursery rhyme get cursed, but so does anyone who hears it.”
“I’m still not scared. Curses don’t scare me. In fact, I think you should say it.”
“Are you trying to play chicken with me?”
“Not trying. I am playing,” I quip. “So come on, Zay; let’s see if you’re as badass as you pretend to be.”
The muscles in his jaw pulsate. Clearly, I’ve gotten under his skin. Part of me gets some sick satisfaction in that, in knowing I can get him all riled up. Knowing that I have the upper hand for a moment in this game.
“Fine,” he growls out. Then he wraps his fingers around my arm. With how pissed off he is, I expect his grip to be tight, but strangely, he holds me gently as he tows me down the hallway with him.
He releases me as we enter the room with the pool table, the room that has the closet that I hid in when I was here last night. Then he reels around, standing in front of me.
“You sure you want to do this?” he asks with a taunt in his eyes.
Do I?
I’m not sure now that I’m seeing how worked up he’s getting.