Page 22 of Summer Cursed

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I couldn’t stop my smile from forming wide on my lips. “Oh, I think I’m gonna like you after all.”

“Splendid. Enjoy your meal,” he said with the tiniest touch of sarcasm, pulling a laugh from me.

Too curious to sit and wait, I wandered the room looking at the paintings on the walls. I wasn’t familiar with the artist or the subjects of the works. Each one featured a single person dressed in diverse types of clothing signifying the years throughout history. I came to one and stopped dead in my tracks.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw his dark red hair. It matched mine exactly, even the natural highlights and lowlights that ran through it. The only thing missing was the white streak.

Even with missing ‘the mark’ the red color was uncanny. Not only is it unheard of among shifters, but it’s also a rare natural color with humans. So, seeing it on someone else had a jolt of excitement running through me.

“Ah, you’ve found Uncle Bertram. I thought you’d like him,” Liam said as he entered the room without me hearing. He was too good at shielding himself and kept surprising me.

Startled, I spun around so quickly my heel caught on the rug, making me stumble forward. He was across the room in a blink to catch me. I tried to brace for the shock this time, but it still stunned me.

“Ow, dammit,” I said, shoving him away and rubbing my arms where his hands had been. I raised my eyes to see both his hands were in fists.

We weren’t starting the evening off very well, and I needed him to do me a favor. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shove you. It’s just the damn shock was stronger this time. Do you ever lift your feet when you walk?”

“I’ve told you. It’s the house. It’s old.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Sure.” I glanced back at the painting. “So, Uncle Bertram, huh?”

“Yes. He was what they call an eccentric. Even among shifters.”

“Is he still alive?” I asked, hoping he was. I really wanted to meet him and examine his hair. And maybe see his wolf. He was the closest thing to me I’d ever seen.

“Possibly. I’m not sure.”

“Do you happen to know what his wolf looked like?”

A weird look flickered over his face as he studied me. “No, I don’t.”

Disappointment struck hard, and I frowned as I let my eyes roam over the rest of the portraits. “Are these your ancestors?”

He stepped closer to me. “They are. Most are long dead due to a variety of reasons.”

I stopped in front of one I hadn’t noticed earlier. Like most of the subjects, his expression was stoic, almost bored. There was something so familiar about him, I couldn’t take my eyes off the painting. Slowly, I turned to Liam meeting his eyes. The same eyes as in the painting.

“Is this you?” I asked even as I thought how absurd the question was. The portrait was the oldest one in the room. At least it appeared that way.

He studied me for a while, showing no emotion… as usual. “Do you really think it could be?”

I looked to the painting then back to him. “Do you know how to answer a question?”

“I do.”

Remembering I needed him to help me, I dropped it. “Well, I’m pretty hungry. Shall we start?” I just wanted to get it over with so I could go home and take off the damn bear traps on my feet.

“Yes, let’s.”

Once we settled in our chairs, he rang a little bell and in came the kitchen staff, out of hiding and into the light. They made no acknowledgement we were in the room, even while they placed bowls of soup in front of us. I tried smiling at one of them and got nothing in return. I couldn’t help but think of the Avoxes from the Hunger Games.

“This is weird, Liam. Why don’t they speak?”

He sighed. “Philip. He’s from a different time. None of this is my choice.”

“Aren’t you the Alpha? His boss? Can’t you change things to the way you want them?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he sipped his wine, looking at me over the rim of the glass. “You look stunning tonight, Red.”


Tags: Kimberly Quay Paranormal