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Cursed by the Fountain of Youth




  Cursed by the

  Fountain of Youth

  By Holly Kelly

  Published by Clean Paranormal

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cursed by the Fountain of Youth

  Copyright © 2016 by: Holly Kelly

  Edited by: Tamara Hart Heiner

  Cover Design by: James Kelly

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review and/or promotion.

  Clean Paranormal

  P.O. Box 1057

  Spanish Fork, Utah 84660

  AuthorHollyKelly.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Cursed by the Fountain of Youth

  Prologue

  Brigitte stumbled over a moss-covered log and quickly regained her footing as she raced to keep up with the pregnant woman—the one she needed to kill. Why she was there in the first place, Brigitte had no idea. She certainly hoped it wasn’t what she feared.

  The woman stopped, hunching over and groaning as she held her stomach. Brigitte skidded to a halt and held her breath as she attempted to blend into the bayou. Her mind raced. They’d never trained for this situation. Oh sure, she’d prepared herself to slit the throat of an old man or even an old woman. But a pregnant woman?

  How could she end the life of a woman with a baby growing inside her? Perhaps she should call for backup. Emeric would show no hesitation at killing her. He’d kill his own mother if the society asked him to. But he was the last person she wanted to call.

  The woman sped off again—running under a canopy of trees, stumbling over foliage, and splashing through puddles as she heaved air in and out of her lungs. Desperation rolled off the laboring mother.

  The most terrifying thing of all in this situation—this stranger seemed to know exactly where she was going.

  About a minute later, she stopped again, groaning in pain.

  Brigitte slipped her dagger from its sheath. Perhaps she could kill her and cut the baby out. The child couldn’t possibly remember this location. It should be safe to let it—

  The mother ran once again, this time faster, more desperate. Brigitte could hear her sobbing. The shimmer of the fountain sparkled through the trees.

  Could she do it? Could she really kill this woman?

  Yes.

  She had to. She’d sworn to protect the fountain. But she’d wait until the woman reached the water’s edge. Running behind, she prepared to confront the mother as soon as she stopped.

  Brigitte gasped when the woman didn’t stop. She didn’t slow a bit as she splashed into the pool of water—her figure a pale silhouette against the rocky mound that rose from the center, bubbling with life-giving water.

  Ripping out her phone, Brigitte considered who she should call. Lafayette. Yes! He would be level-headed enough to know what to do.

  “What is it?” he said when he picked up.

  “There’s a woman in the fountain,” she answered and then bit her lip.

  “How did she get that far?” Brigitte held the phone away from her ear as he shouted.

  “I…” she couldn’t continue, ashamed of her answer.

  “You what?” he snarled.

  “She’s pregnant,” she said, “and she’s in labor.”

  He swore. “You’re worthless, Brigitte.”

  She bit back a retort. “Just get here.”

  “We’re already coming.”

  “We?”

  “Emeric is with me.”

  Brigitte’s heart sank. Emeric—just the man she didn’t want to call. As head of the guardians, he had very little tolerance for those who didn’t enforce the rules. Brigitte began to tremble when she considered her punishment.

  She had allowed a person near the waters. Not just that, she allowed a woman to bathe in them. Looking at the woman, she already looked healthier—more vibrant.

  Until the next contraction hit.

  An ear-piercing scream tore from the woman’s lips. And then she sank down lower in the water, the ripples lapping against her neck. The water took on a red tinge. A few minutes later, a baby’s head broke the surface. The mother bellowed in a mixture of laughter and cries as she held the infant up above the water. Brigitte’s heart sank at the sight.

  The baby was beautiful—pink and bald. With a healthy cry, she greeted the first day of her life.

  And likely her last.

  There was a strong possibility they would kill her along with her mother. Brigitte looked at the innocent, young child.

  “This is heresy!” a deep voice roared from behind her. Lafayette and Emeric burst through the trees and stomped passed her. They stopped at the water’s edge with their sacred daggers raised.

  “What are you doing here?” Emeric shouted at the startled mother.

  “I…” The mother’s face blanched white as she pulled her child close and clutched her to her chest. She looked down at her baby and said, “It called to me.”

  “Impossible,” Emeric growled.

  The woman backed away as her eyes darted around, probably searching for an escape.

  There would be no escape for her.

  “Please don’t hurt my little girl,” she sobbed.

  “Tell me how you found it,” his voice boomed, making the mother jump.

  She looked around. “I don’t understand.”

  “Tell…me…how…you…found…it.”

  “Found what?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t.”

  “The Fountain of Youth.” He glared down at her. “Now, get out of its waters. No one is allowed to bathe there.”

  She took a step back.

  “Get out, or I’ll come in after you and slit both your and your baby’s throats.”

  He was bluffing. He wouldn’t dare touch those waters, but the woman had no way of knowing that.

  The mother broke down in tears. “No. Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t harm her.”

  “Get. Out,” he snarled.

  The woman took a hesitant step forward, and then another. As she stepped onto shore, Brigitte could see the mother’s legs were shaking so hard that she looked as if she might fall. When she stepped completely out of the water, Brigitte could see water mixed with blood flowing from beneath her skirt and pooling on the ground b
eneath her—evidence of her recent delivery. Emeric walked up to her, towering above her.

  She put her head down. “Please,” she whispered, her breathing ragged.

  Lafayette stepped toward Emeric, his eyes conflicted. “Let’s not act rashly. Why don’t we just—”

  Emeric thrust his knife into the woman’s stomach. She gasped as her eyes opened wide.

  “There’s no debate,” Emeric said, as the mother—now gasping for breath—sagged against him. He pushed her away and jerked his knife from her belly. “There is no leniency.” She fell, to the ground, still clutching the child to her chest. “You know our sacred calling.”

  Lafayette lowered his head. “Yes.”

  Brigitte turned away. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she stepped behind a tree. Was this really her calling? She thought to protect the fountain was a sacred, holy duty. But what were they, really? Nothing but murderers?

  “What are you doing?” Emeric’s voice growled in desperation. “Get away from there.”

  Brigitte looked back to see the mother kneeling at the water’s edge. Emeric lunged toward her, as she flung her child with all her might. The baby splashed into the water and sank below the surface.

  Both Emeric and Lafayette rushed forward and stood above the water. They searched for any sign of the infant.

  “She’s killed her,” Lafayette gasped. “Her own child.”

  “You stupid woman.” Emeric turned on the woman who had collapsed on the ground. “Why did you do it?”

  But the woman didn’t answer. She lay still, at the water’s edge.

  Lafayette knelt beside her and pressed his fingers against her throat. Moments passed before he spoke. “She’s dead.”

  “Her behavior makes no sense,” Emeric said.

  “I know,” Lafayette said, “and we can’t go in after the child. The law forbids it.”

  “Yes,” Emeric said somberly. “It’s for the best. Who knows what effects those waters would have had on that child? We’d have to kill it anyway.” The two men stepped away from the body of the woman.

  “Shouldn’t we move her?” Lafayette asked as he looked back at her.

  “She’s not touching the water,” Emeric said. “She’ll be fine where she is. Let Gerard handle it.”

  They stepped into the trees. “Where’s Brigitte?” Lafayette asked, his voice fading as they strolled away. Brigitte backed behind a tree and held her breath.

  “She probably couldn’t stomach all this,” she could hear Emeric say. “Either that, or she’s afraid to face punishment. I’m sure we’ll find her back at camp eventually.”

  They continued on, and soon they disappeared into the woods.

  Brigitte inched around the tree and stepped into the scene. Swallowing bile, she crept forward. The young mother lay on her back at the water’s edge. Blinking back tears, she leaned over to see the woman’s face. She didn’t know what she’d find. She’d never seen a dead person before, but she didn’t expect the expression she found. She looked at peace.

  “Why did you fight so hard to protect your baby, and then toss her into the water to drown?” Brigitte looked back at the glassy-smooth surface of the water. That poor child floated down there somewhere—probably dead by now.

  She sighed. Her heart felt like lead in her chest.

  She turned away and started back toward camp. Just as she reached the edge of the trees, she heard the most curious thing—the sound of a baby crying.

  Chapter 1

  Twenty-two years later

  Fae slipped on her short-sleeved jacket to cover her bare shoulders. She should have insisted on being dropped off somewhere else. This neighborhood didn’t look so good. Hopefully, she wouldn’t die just because she didn’t want to inconvenience her previous ride.

  She stepped out and jabbed her thumb in the air at the next passing sedan.

  A dark-haired man who appeared old enough to be her father pulled up to the curb. “Hey, sweet thing. You need a ride?” He looked her up and down, practically salivating.

  “Um, no thank you,” she said, her stomach souring.

  His smile turned into a scowl as he mumbled a vulgar insult and drove away.

  Fae swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d had very little contact with people in her lifetime. If this was how city folks acted, maybe she hadn’t really missed much. She took a deep breath, shook off the insult, and put her thumb back in the air. She really hoped she survived the trip to St. Augustine.

  The next three cars were also a bust. The insults even started to lose their sting. Did she really look like a prostitute? Her shorts were nearly to her knees, her shoulders were covered, and she wasn’t even showing any cleavage.

  It was probably her body shape. She couldn’t help being well endowed. If she had the choice, she would have chosen a more conservative shape.

  Another car approached. This one looked more promising. A white-haired old woman peered over the steering wheel.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” the old woman said as she glowered at her from a Buick the size of an aircraft carrier. “A pretty thing like you—”

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Fae said quickly. “I’m a college student. I’m just trying to get to campus.”

  The lady looked her over, obviously attempting to see if she were lying. Fae gave her most innocent expression.

  “Okay,” the woman said, “get in. But don’t try anything. I have a gun in my purse and I know how to use it.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” Fae said as she retrieved her suitcase from behind a bush.

  The woman eyed the luggage and unlocked the doors. Fae put her case in the back and got it the front seat.

  “My name is Eleanor,” the woman said. “What’s yours?”

  “Fae.”

  “Oh, I have a good friend named Fay.”

  Fae wasn’t surprised; her name was painfully old-fashioned. “That’s nice.”

  “Are you from around here?”

  Fae nodded. “Um, yeah, but farther south.” She didn’t mention exactly where. It was such a tiny place it wasn’t even on a map. None of the places she’d lived in had been. Brigitte had been very careful choosing where they’d lived. Inconspicuous was her middle name.

  “Why didn’t your parents give you a ride to campus?”

  Fae sighed. “They can’t.”

  The old lady nodded as if she knew exactly what Fae meant. She couldn’t possibly guess why Fae’s parents were unavailable.

  Eleanor chatted on and on about this and that—how much St. Augustine had changed over the years, what hadn’t changed, what should change...

  Fae’s lids were drooping when the familiar campus came into view.

  “Wow,” Fae said, her sleepiness shaken off by sudden awe. “It’s even more beautiful than I remembered.”

  “How long have you been gone?” Eleanor asked.

  “I was here a few weeks ago, but this is my first semester attending.” She turned to the old woman. “Thank you so much for the ride.”

  “No problem, sweetie. Just…try to be safe. A girl like you should never hitchhike. You don’t know what kind of crazies are out there.”

  Fae swallowed her first response and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  Eleanor jabbed her pointer finger at her. “You’d better not.” She nodded toward the school. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Fae gave a genuine smile as she got out of the car.

  She pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and looked across campus. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to calm her pounding heart. She could do this. She wasn’t that old. A twenty-two-year-old freshman was not unheard of, right?

  Putting her feet to the pavement, she marched toward the dorms trying to look confident. She’d get settled in, and then she would see admissions to confirm that nothing remained undone.

  Walking under the arched entryway, Fae was once again amazed at the campus. History and elegance shone through the
columns and grand fountain inside the courtyard. It really didn’t look like a college at all, more like a resort. She’d walked into a fairy tale.

  Glancing down at her second-hand clothes, she felt out of place. When she purchased them, she’d fallen in love with them. They were the nicest clothes she’d ever owned. But she couldn’t help but think that everyone could see through her façade. People like her didn’t go to colleges like this. Or college at all, for that matter. But Fae had always loved learning new things and immersed herself in every book she could get a hold of—fiction and non-fiction. Still, reading books did not replace a formal education. And in that area, Fae was grossly lacking. Pushing back her thoughts, she swallowed her doubts. She could do this!

  She approached student housing, took a deep breath, and walked inside the building. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone screamed. Looking down the hall, she could see two girls bouncing like jackrabbits and squealing.

  Fae had no idea what they were so excited about, but the act seemed juvenile. Perhaps living in freshmen housing was a bad move. She was practically an old woman compared to these girls.

  “Hello, my dear.” A white-haired woman stood and shuffled toward her. “You look a bit lost.”

  “I was just looking to um, check in.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.” The old woman smiled warmly. “I’m Mrs. Albrecht, and you are...?”

  “Fae Miller.”

  “Fae, what a lovely name.”

  “It’s actually short for Fontaine.”

  “Ah, a French name. Are you native to Florida?” the woman said as she ruffled through some files.

  “Um, I think so.”

  “You don’t know?”

  Fae sighed. “I don’t know who my birth parents are.”

  “Well, your adoptive parents—”

  “No, I…listen, I’m really tired, and I’d like to get settled in.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie. I didn’t mean to pry.” Mrs. Albrecht looked down, her face flushed.

  “No, it’s all right,” Fae said, wanting to reassure the poor woman. She didn’t know her simple questions were sore spots.

  “Okay.” Mrs. Albrecht looked up, her face brighter. She pulled out a file and opened it. “It looks like you’re rooming with Morgan. She’s a sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll get along swimmingly.”