Black Heart (Cursed Hearts 1)

“Nonsense, she’s a tough girl,” Beth said as she practically shoved Marty to the door.

“Sorry, Marty!” Denny yelled as she stumbled out of the house.

“Sorry about what?” she asked a second before the door was slammed shut in her face.

“Well, that was odd,” Marty mumbled as she shifted the large basket in her hands and headed for the sidewalk. A tingling sensation crawled up her spine, giving her little choice but to turn around. Her anxiety doubled when she spotted Beth standing in the window, beaming and giving her a thumbs up.

“Okay, weirder,” Marty said as she looked away and headed towards Tristan’s house. Beth was obviously up to something. What? She didn’t know, but it couldn’t be good.

*-*-*-*

Tristan ignored the two hens bitching in his living room and focused on the game.

“I’m telling ye, that’s not the best way to get this girl,” Shayne argued.

“Why the hell not? It always worked for me!” pipe man said defensively. “He’s good looking, so it should work.”

Tristan ground his teeth and focused on slaying some vampires. Shayne gestured towards him. “He can’t just go up to Marty and say, ‘Do ye wanna f**k or do I owe ye an apology?’ That’s a stupid line!”

Pipe man threw his hands up in irritation. “Why not? It works!”

Shayne grumbled something about dickheads as he picked up his controller and joined the game.

“Well, why not?” pipe man demanded, again.

“I already told ye, Patricia, Marty is a good girl. That shit won’t work on her.”

“I told you that my name is Patrick, not Patricia,” Patrick growled.

“Whatever, Patricia, until ye come up with something helpful, shush it,” Shayne said, beheading a demon.

Patrick tried to sit on the couch, but fell through. “Well, that sucks!”

Shayne and Tristan chuckled. “Yer just a spirit, lad. Ye can’t take any type of form or interact in this world.”

“But you can,” Patrick said accusingly.

“That’s because I’m not a spirit,” Shayne answered in a bored tone.

“What the hell are you then?” Patrick demanded as he stood up.

Shayne looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I’m what ye would call a shipper.”

“A shipper? You mean like UPS?” Patrick scoffed. “What the hell is that?” He held up a hand to stop Shayne from answering. “You know what? I don’t really care, because we’ve gotten way off the topic here.” He moved in front of television and once again blocked the game.

Tristan and Shayne groaned. “Now, where were we? Oh, that’s right. Do what I want or you will never experience a moment of peace again. I’ll also go spy on this Marty chick and watch her when she’s naked,” he added to piss Tristan off.

Tristan glared as he moved to go after him. “I will f**king-“

Shayne cut him off as he gestured for Tristan to sit back down. “No, he’s right, lad. We should help him,” he explained as he stood up and walked over to Patrick.

“That’s more like it,” Patrick agreed, grinning smugly in Tristan’s direction.

Shayne pressed a finger to his lips. “Just out of curiosity, Patricia. When ye were alive, where did ye think ye’d end up when ye died? Heaven or hell?”

Patrick shifted nervously. “I didn’t really think about it.”

“What do ye think, lad? Where do ye think he’ll go?” Shayne asked Tristan, never taking his eyes away from the man fidgeting nervously in front of them.

Tristan studied Patrick for a long moment. He noted the pipe in his neck and guessed that it hadn’t landed there by accident. “I’d say hell,” Tristan said with a shrug.

“What? No way! I’ve led a good life.”

Shayne shrugged. “Let’s see, shall we?” He placed a hand over Patrick’s heart.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Patrick asked. His eyes widened as a black light emanated from his chest.

“Well, I guess ye were right, lad,” Shayne murmured as they watched the darkness do its job.

“Wait, what are you do-“ Patrick started to ask only to disappear in a puff of black smoke before he could finish. The smoke quickly disappeared as if it had never been, taking all evidence of their unwanted guest along with it.

Tristan picked up the second controller and tossed it to Shayne. “Why the hell did you wait so long? He was really getting on my nerves.”

Shayne shrugged. “He entertained me for a bit there,” he explained unapologetically.

“Well, as long as you were entertained,” Tristan said dryly.

Shayne’s gaze shot towards the front door before he grinned that grin that made even Tristan nervous.

“What?” Tristan asked, not liking that gleam of anticipation in the man’s eyes.

Just as quickly as the smile came it was gone. Shayne cleared his throat. “Nothing, lad.” Then with a flick of his hand he sent Tristan’s can of soda tumbling off the arm of the chair, spilling its contents onto Tristan’s shirt.

Chapter 5

“What the hell, Shayne?” Tristan snapped as he jumped to his feet.

“Oh, so sorry. Ye might want to take that off,” Shayne said innocently as he gestured lazily to Tristan’s now soaked shirt.

Tristan shook his head in disgust. “Let me guess. It entertained you to do that.”

Shayne’s lips twitched. “Ye could say that.”

He shot Shayne a dirty look as he used his soaked tee shirt to dry his chest. Before Tristan could retaliate, a knock sounded at the door.

“Ye better get that, lad,” Shayne pointed out, his lips twitching in amusement.

Tristan shot him a glare before he tossed the shirt on the table and stormed off towards the door. Whoever was waiting started to pound on the door before he reached the hallway.

“Calm the hell down! I’m coming!” he yelled. He was in absolutely no mood for company. Between his mother’s constant nagging, Shayne’s f**king with his head, and being stuck on medical leave with nothing to do, he was pissed. Top that all off with seeing Marty today and being chased off by that prick and he was in the mood to kill someone. Well, unless it was a Girl Scout. He might let one of them live if they had some of those caramel cookies that he was addicted to.

The pounding started again. “Unreal,” he muttered as he unlocked the door and yanked it open. His brows shot up as he took in the sight of Marty struggling beneath the weight of his mother’s largest wicker picnic basket.