A distinct voice made its way inside my head. If she lives through the pain caused by the curse, there may be hope for her yet. It sounded like Fizban.

If she dies, all hope for the Vaktare dies with her. That was Greg or Fizban as Greg. It gave me a little satisfaction to realize she was talking to herself. Maybe she was crazier than me. Or maybe I was so off my rocker I just believed I was hearing two people that were actually one who didn’t exist at all.

If that’s what it takes, Fizban said, her voice hard, interrupting my mental ramblings. I wanted to sink my fangs into her wretched neck. Even as I had the thought I wondered where it came from. I didn’t have fangs. Did I?

But one thing was becoming clear. The curse, pretend or not, had wakened emotions I’d never felt before.

“She’s in . . .”

“Where the hell is she, boy?” That was Isaac. He sounded afraid.

“Help. Please.” I called out softly.

Two sets of feet padded closer. I blinked my eyes open. Isaac squatted down. Adam lifted me into his arms from his standing position. Obviously the guy was strong.

“Take her upstairs.”

“Something seems to be seriously wrong with her. Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital? Let the doctors help her?” As Adam spoke he pressed my body closer to his chest.

“No, Adam. I think you know human doctors can’t help her now.” Isaac said those words, but I must’ve heard him wrong. Why couldn’t they help? If I were going crazy, a special crazy person doctor might be exactly what I needed. Maybe a white jacket, some strong medication. Anything to take away this pain.

“It hurts,” I sobbed.

“Fine. I’ll carry her upstairs.”

“I’ll make her some tea.” That was Mrs. Dotts. Tea was my favorite drink, but even that didn’t sound good. A nice T-bone. That might be better. But as I thought about eating the nausea came back. I leaned into Adam’s chest and puked.

Every time I opened my eyes, Adam was there. Several times he was shirtless. And whoa, he should always be shirtless. It was a crime for him to wear a shirt. His torso was too beautiful to be covered up. It was like hiding a Monet painting.

I think I actually told him as much once while fading in and out of consciousness. His mouth twitched. I wanted to tell him it was okay to smile, but I couldn’t find the words in between all of the emotions filleting my insides.

Whenever Adam held my hand, the pain subsided. His touch was icy relief to my furnace of pain.

Isaac and Mrs. Dotts took turns sitting with me as well, but their touch did nothing, though I did find it comforting to see that they cared even after all the years I’d treated them horribly.

After what seemed like forever, the pain slowly began to shift from all-consuming to a crackling and tearing around just my heart. In certain ways having the pain localized hurt worse.

Some of the worst agony was the most recent. Watching what I’d tried to do with Greg in order to hurt Eva. The way I’d treated Will. How could I have thrown his birthday present into the pool? It was so rude, so completely evil. As I watched my memories, experienced the emotions that should’ve gone along with them, I wondered what my friends and Will gained by continually spending time in my presence. I’d been awful.

“It hurts,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said, lifting his head. His hair was tousled and his lids were heavy.

He must’ve fallen asleep while sitting in the chair next to my bed. His hand covered mine. The pain immediately subsided.

“Thank you,” I said, hoping he could see the sincerity in my expression.

He nodded, wincing.

“Are you uncomfortable? You can lie down on the bed . . .” His eyebrows lifted. “If you want,” I continued, totally humiliated.

Adam climbed on the bed and lay down beside me. He was so close his breath tickled my cheek.

“Is that better?”

“Much,” he said and was about to smile but stopped short.

“Smile whenever you like,” I said, forcing myself to breathe. Even that hurt.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asked, brushing some hair off my face. His finger was like a soothing balm for every place he touched.

“Well that’s just it,” I began. “I’m feeling. Everything. All at once.” Tears sprang to my eyes. “It’s hurts so freaking bad, Adam.”

Adam’s eyes softened. “That must be difficult.”

I nodded, brushing at a wayward tear. “I’ve cried more in the past . . . How long have I been like this?”

Adam checked his watch. “Nearly twenty-four hours.”

“That’s all?” I searched his face. “It feels like ages.”

“What’s going on?” Adam asked.

I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know.” How could I explain that some guy who could transform into a girl with red hair had cursed me?

He smirked. “I can tell you have a lot to say.” He turned so he more fully faced me. “I’ve signed a contract that states I’m required to be your servant until you let me go.”

Guilt swallowed me. I closed my eyes at the hurt. His mom hadn’t stolen the diamond. He didn’t deserve to be here. “I know. I’m sorry.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “That’s—”

Adam touched my face. I opened my eyes. “It’s okay. I want to help. So tell me what’s going on.”

I smiled, a newfound joy spreading over every inch of my face. The act of smiling so big actually hurt. I reached up and touched one of my cheeks, marveling at the difference between a real and pretend smile. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I searched his face for any indication he would run if I told him. But I realized I wanted to tell someone. Say the words out loud. If I did maybe it would help me make sense of my situation. And if Adam did leave, I would be okay with that. It was the least of what I deserved.

“Try me.” Adam took my other hand.

The emotional trauma raging in my body all but stopped. I sighed with relief. And then told him everything . . . well, except that I’d tried to put the moves on Greg. All but that. When I finished he sat up, crossing his legs.

“So, let me get this straight. Some guy who can also turn into a girl cursed you?”

“That’s what he said.”

“What did he say, exactly?”

I closed my eyes. It helped me see the words. “He said, ‘For your vanity, your cruelty and your cold, unfeeling heart, a curse I leave upon you. A year shall not pass before your true form will be revealed. You are Vaktare, daughter of royalty, born to deliver your people, created to save your species from the extinction they so rightly deserve . . . You, your father and your mother have been sentenced to die . . . Unless you can learn to give love unconditionally. Only then will your species have a chance.’” I opened my eyes and focused on his blue eyes.

“You are Vaktare. What is that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard the word before.”

Adam stood, letting go of my hands. The pain came back in full force, making my heart ache.

“Do you mind if I use your computer?”

“No,” I whispered, curious about what he was doing, but in too much pain to ask.

He suddenly seemed to notice my pain. “Oh, hey.” He slid his hands into mine and pulled me off my bed. “Let’s research the word Vaktare.” He released one hand and sat at my desk. While he pulled up the Internet, he asked, “And up until now you haven’t had any feelings, like no pain, nothing?”

“That’s right.” I moved to stand behind him.

Adam typed v-a-c-k-t-a-r-e and hit Enter. There were definitions and explanations in a different language. Clicking on Translate, it appeared the word, though spelled v-a-k-t-a-r-e meant security guard in Swedish. “So he cursed you to become a Swedish security guard?”

I laughed out loud. A real laugh. My body seemed to come to life at the sound and the pain squeezing my heart subsided. “Probably not.” I shook my head. Adam’s eyes sparkled. He turned back to the screen and scrolled down, searching for more information. By the third page, it was easy to see there was nothing there. Nothing of use anyway.