Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame by E.C. Farrell (epub e ink reader .txt) 📕

Not to mention the fact that my tattoo would light up bright red as a warning.

Scowling, I check the next two bedrooms but still find nothing. When the bathroom and closets all come up empty as well, panic and confusion close in. This is impossible. No, I’ve never had a water spirit as a bounty before and they are strange creatures, but that shouldn’t change the way my spell works. He should be here somewhere.

But he’s not. The mark is gone.

3.

RUBBING MY WRIST TATTOO, I turn in a jerky circle, casting around the house. “Okay, where in the nine realms are you, you stupid, cocky, arrogant—”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

I nearly spontaneously combust into phoenix form at the sound of his voice accompanied by a gurgle of water behind me. Jumping like a startled cat, and squawking just as loud, I spin to face the mark. His thick brows lift as I straight up growl at him, pouring every ounce of my magic into the sound so the lights flicker.

“Where were you?”

He raises his hands and takes a step back. “Calm down, mama. I just went to sleep in the pipes to rehydrate. It works faster than anything else.”

Gulping in air, I cross my arms tight over my chest and look him over. Sure enough, the dry patches of skin have smoothed out, the dark circles have faded, and cracks at the corners of his mouth are almost gone. Only the tinge of black to his veins remains as a loud reminder of how dried out he’d gotten while with Yaritza.

Heat streaks across my nose and I curl my toes in my shoes. “Well ... warn a girl next time. I don’t process conundrums after midnight well.”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the mark grins. “Yes ma’am.” His forehead wrinkles. “What were you doing up anyway? Trying to catch me without a shirt on?”

I cock out a hip. “Would I be impressed?”

“That depends entirely on what you find impressive.” He laughs, then flexes an arm. “My only muscles come from waiting tables. Helpful, but nothing to text your friends about. Now my buddy Ash? The universe sculpted that vampire from straight up marble. Perfection.”

Snorting, I rest against the doorframe, now way too hyped to go back to sleep. “Little man crush?”

“Whew, major one.” The mark laughs again, and flops onto the couch, waving his hand with a flourish. “But vampires and water spirits are like that. We’re made to make people fall for us. It’s woven straight into our magic. Now phoenixes? I can’t say I know as much about them. There aren’t too many in this realm. You’re definitely the first one I’ve met.”

I push off the doorframe, then prop myself on elbows against the back of the armchair. “Like every other creature around here, we lean into human myths, but the reality is, of course, much different. If it’s our first life, we’re born like most creatures are. Any birth after that comes out of the ash we leave behind when we die. A new start with a wealth of wisdom learned from seventy plus years.”

The mark sways his head to one side with a fluidity similar to the way Yaritza moves. “Unless you’re cursed.”

Running a finger along the pointed tip of my ear, I nod slowly. “Unless you’re cursed.”

“But you don’t come back as a baby?” He looks me up and down. “Clearly.”

I jut out my jaw with a little grunt. “Clearly. I come back as a sixteen-year-old, the age I was when this whole thing started. It’s a pain in the wardrobe, let me tell you.”

“Wardrobe?”

“I burst into flame and disintegrate to ash.” I make an exploding motion with my hands. “So, if I’m killed, it torches my clothes.”

The mark wiggles his brows again. “So, you come back naked. That’s hot.”

“It’s expensive.” Hard as I try, I can’t suppress a small chuckle. “Amazon — the company, not the virtuous warriors — makes a lot of money off me.”

Threading his fingers through his thick, black hair, he rests his head on the heel of a hand. “Who’d you make mad enough to curse you?”

“You assume I’m the one who poked the wrong witch?”

He smirks. “Did you?”

I trace the tattoo around my wrist. “My dad did. He went back on a contract or some nonsense like that. This was meant to teach him a lesson.”

The mark swears. “So, I’m not the only one suffering for the sins of my parents.”

My jaw clicks as curiosity and paranoia battle for control of my mouth. “Is that why there’s a bounty on you?” I ask, as the former wins out.

“You got it, mama. My brand of water spirit acts a little like Odysseus’ sirens. Luring men back to their lairs.” He rolls his eyes. “My mom seduced the wrong gringo apparently.”

I narrow my eyes, hard-baked suspicion immediately on alert. Nearly every mark I ever nabbed told some story about the unfair reason for the bounty on their heads. All sad stories. Misunderstandings. Mistakes. Very few of them ever tried to relate them to my own tragedy though, and something about that feels distinctly manipulative.

“Convenient.”

My current mark shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me, mama. I don’t expect you to. And even if you did, I’m guessing it wouldn’t matter.”

My mouth puckers. “Like I said before, none of my business. That’s for you to break down with whoever put out the bounty. We don’t break contracts.”

Preserve the contract at any cost.

Yaritza doesn’t have too many rules for the hunters in her guild. She works in shades of gray, giving guidelines, suggestions, tips of the trade. But one thing she absolutely insists on is honoring the contract. Breaking one of those ruins reputations, gets people killed, and would definitely get me kicked out. At bare minimum.

That asterisk from the app pops into my brain. The mystery of what’s on the other end stokes my curiosity again. What if he’s telling the truth about his mom? What if he is, in fact, innocent