Cursed Love (Broderick Coven Book 1)

by AJ Renee

  She placed the box on the counter and swept up the glass. After putting the broom and pan away, she grabbed the package and sat on the couch. Inside, she found an old leather-bound book and an envelope. After flipping the plain envelope over, she found her name in cursive. She’d never seen the handwriting before.

  To my dear Brandy,

  If you are reading this, then I didn’t make it. For that, I am truly sorry. Bringing you into this world and leaving you as I was left was never what I wanted. Your father and I have tried everything to break the curse placed on my family with no such luck. I write this letter knowing that, short of a miracle, we will not undo it in time for your birth. It is my duty to protect you, and that I shall.

  I have bound your powers until your twenty-first birthday. This is my gift to you so that you may live a normal life, if only for a short time. It will also keep you safe from those who will do you harm.

  You are the seventh child of the seventh daughter, as was I. I must warn you, child, you are the seventh generation of this cycle. As such, we do not know what is to come of your powers.

  I have included our family grimoire in this package. It will help you learn more about your powers, family, and enemies. Keep it safe, as there are many who can benefit from it.

  At the time of this letter, we haven’t noticed any powers in your brothers. They may reveal themselves or only show in you. Be aware, that as your powers unbind, you will become a beacon for all—those who could use your help and those who would wish you death. You will need to take precautions around your brothers, especially if they don’t have powers. Please keep them safe.

  This path is not easy, but you are my daughter. You came from light and unto light you shall go.

  Study the book, for it holds the answers to the questions you have. Do not forget to call upon those long passed if the need shall arise. If you lose your path, follow the light, and in it you shall find your way.

  Blessed be Brandy, daughter of Aubrey and Easton, coven Broderick.

  Brandy read the letter two more times before setting it aside. First tubars and that man, and now a letter from her dead mother. She didn’t know what was going on, but the letter only gave the man’s words a leg to wobble on.

  She flipped the cardboard lid to study the return address but shook her head when it didn’t ring a bell. Looking into the box, she stared at the plain book she could have easily picked up in the library’s historical section. There were no fancy designs or words to scream “witch’s manual.” Brandy placed the beautifully bound book on her lap and her hand on the cover.

  A sense of peace and calmness overcame her, and the tingly feeling in her body stilled. She looked around her quiet room and took a deep breath. She opened the book and found the words Broderick’s Coven written on the inside cover.

  On the center of the page was a large celtic knot linked by a circle. She could swear the knot shimmered on the old paper. The words Custodes Pacis followed by terra, aer, ignis, aqua, and spiritus circled the image.

  Flipping through the book, she found a variety of handwriting on the pages. It seemed to change after the first thirty pages, then become less frequent. If she had to guess, she would say that as time went by, less was added to the book.

  She flipped to one page and stared.

  Family magick, a guide to your power(s.) Our family has been blessed with elemental magick and telekinesis. Only high priestesses of our covens have mastered two elemental powers at once, and those who have tried—all five elements—have not lived to tell.

  Your powers are a blessing; do not misuse them. Each person has a trigger, which controls their powers. You must learn yours. A witch who cannot control her powers is not only useless but a danger to those she loves.

  “That’s it?” Brandy asked, noting no other information on how to use her power. “Thanks a lot. That wasn’t helpful at all.”

  Her hands hummed as frustration built within her. When the cabinets in her kitchen began to shake, Brandy jumped to her feet, and the grimoire slipped off her lap. Doors in her apartment opened and closed, becoming louder each passing second.

  “Oh, God! How do I make it stop?” she asked when no one appeared or crashed through her door. “Can people just appear? Damn it!” she yelled and ran a hand through her hair. Her apartment was alive, but she did not know how to make it stop.

  Brandy thought of the handsome stranger, and she wished she knew how to contact him. He was the only living person she could talk to who wouldn’t think she belonged in a mental ward. She grabbed the grimoire, put it on the table, and read over the page once more. When she didn’t find anything new, she focused on the words: each person has a trigger.

  “What the hell is my trigger?”

  Brandy found it difficult to think with all the noise and cupped her hands over her ears. She thought over the last few minutes, before all the crazy shakes and bumps. Touching the grimoire had calmed her earlier, and nothing had been going on. It wasn’t until the stupid page left out the directions to using her power did she—

  “Ah-ha!” she said with excitement. “Geez, I really need to quit talking to myself.”

  Brandy closed the book and placed her hand against the leather. Breathing slowly, she focused on lowering her heart rate. The doors quit moving on their own, but the cabinets picked up their pace.

  “Shit! Think about something else!” Her mind flitted back to the stranger and the calm after the turbulent events. One by one, the cabinets closed. When the quiet in the room became constant, she opened her eyes and looked around. Everything was as it should be.

  She grabbed the book and sat. For a while, she could only stare at the brown leather. So much had changed since her birthday. Hell, in the last twenty-four hours, she’d learned more about her family than in her twenty-one years.

  It seemed not even her brothers were aware of their family history, and if they did know, they hid it very well. She needed to keep them safe, per her mother’s instructions. Safe from tubars and what else? The problem was she didn’t even know how to keep herself safe.

  She opened the book again and flipped through the pages. There was so much she needed to learn. Anxiety filled her as she skimmed one page talking about different types of demons. Tubars would be the least of her worries, as she found a variety of other kinds listed in the book.

  In a matter of days, everything she’d known about herself and her family seemed like a lie. There were so many holes within the fabric of her history. Why hadn’t her dad mentioned anything? A hint that life at twenty-one would be a fight to stay alive would have been great.

  The couch vibrated under her, and the curtains opened and closed. It seemed the key to staying safe was controlling her powers.

  Fear, excitement, anger, and now anxiety… all the emotions she experienced prior to things getting crazy. Brandy took a deep breath. The curtains stopped in the middle of her window, and the couch quit moving.

  “Great. Whoever thought to give powers attached to emotions on an overly emotional person needs to be beat.” She leaned against the couch cushion and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn’t quite sure how her life had turned into this.

  She needed to control her emotions and powers and keep her brothers safe. There was no way she could do the last without the first. She wished she could call the mysterious stranger who had saved her, except she didn’t know who he was or where to find him.

  “Screw it, I can do this all on my own.”

  Looking around the room, she searched for something light and unbreakable. She pushed herself to her feet, grabbed the last stress ball Greg had brought home from his human resources training, and set it on the coffee table.

  Control.

  She waved her hand over the ball and sighed when it didn’t even shake. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and leaned her elbows on her knees. She focused on the ball, the skin between her eyes wrinkling as she concentrated.

  Nothing.

  “How th
e hell do I turn this shit on!” she snapped and watched the ball fly off the table.

  Frustration.

  There it was again, movement when she was anything but calm. She picked up the ball and set it on the middle of the table. Her fingers sifted through her hair and locked behind her neck. “Okay… emotions… control…” she whispered.

  Sucking in another breath, she gave herself permission to be upset at the situation. She envisioned her emotions seeping in through a valve at the same time she willed the ball to move.

  Thirty minutes later, she grabbed the ball and threw it across the room. Nothing had worked. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. With a quick glance at the clock, she realized she needed to get to bed. She had to open in the morning, and as it was, the failed exercise had left her drained.

  If only she could have moved the ball. She stared at the offending object on the ground below her window and sighed. “Stupid ball.”

  Brandy tucked the letter into the grimoire and walked into her closet. Moving clothes aside, she hid the priceless book where no one could easily find it. It would do for now, especially if Greg changed his mind and returned for his things.

  Chapter 6

  The walk to work was uneventful, which was an accomplishment for sure after her walk home last night. The hum throughout her body no longer felt foreign, at least not as much as it used to.

  Brandy scanned her dark surroundings as she quickly moved along the sidewalk. There were no dogs growling, and the feeling of being watched wasn’t there either. When she reached the door, she let herself in and made sure to lock it behind her.

  She turned on the lights and worked on a few things in her office before it was time to let her employee in. In no time, the machines were brewing and filling the café with the aroma of coffee in time to open for the caffeine addicts.

  Brandy managed to keep her emotions neutral, and the morning was going along like any other… until the tingling along her skin spiked. He walked in and stepped in line. She really hadn’t expected to see him again. She wondered how he knew where to find her.

  She took orders and moved the line along, becoming more agitated as he neared. Her eyes couldn’t seem to focus, as they kept flitting to his face. She admired him under the shop’s lights. It seemed when one was attacked by a tubar, they didn’t care about how someone looked at the time. Her mystery hero maintained his serious expression throughout his wait, but all she could focus on was his strong jaw.

  As Brandy noted his soft and kissable-looking full lips, he stepped forward to the counter. Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze dropped to the register. “What can I get you?”

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice deeper than she remembered.

  Her eyes flitted to the pretty brunette behind him who was checking out his ass. Part of her wanted to giggle, but what worried her more was the part which wanted to shove the woman away. “Yeah—”

  “Ah!” the woman cried.

  Her mystery hero turned around and looked from the brunette, now on the ground, to Brandy and raised an eyebrow. Without saying a word, he helped the woman to her feet, a banana smacking him on the back of his head when his hand touched the woman’s.

  Brandy covered her mouth in surprise. She couldn’t figure out if she’d made the banana fly or how the woman had ended up on the floor. Looking around the store, she spotted a few others watching the scene, their brows knitted with confusion.

  Her gaze returned to his as he rubbed the back of his head. “Really?”

  “Are you okay, sir?” Brandy asked, rubbing her hands along her apron.

  A nervous giggle threatened to escape when he only stared at her. She wasn’t sure how long this went on when he finally spoke.

  “Chai.”

  “You want a chai tea? Gre—”

  “I want chai. Plain,” he said with annoyance.

  She raised a brow at his tone. “So you want a plain chai tea?”

  He shook his head. “Chai. Just chai. No need to say tea. You’re only repeating yourself. Chai is tea, so when you say chai tea, you are saying tea tea. I would like a plain chai,” he said, emphasizing it.

  She didn’t know about the whole tea tea part, but she did know he was being an ass to her. Unnecessarily mean at that. “Okay,” she bit back as the humming increased.

  Narrowing her eyes at the jerk, she told him the amount. While he poked at the credit card screen, she glanced at the pen next to the register.

  Control.

  So far, she’d managed to move things this morning without wanting to. If only she could get the pen to flick him between the eyes. To Brandy’s surprise, the pen shook and lifted, then moved slowly through the air at her mystery jerk.

  He raised an eyebrow at her before the pen stopped and changed directions. It hit her on top of her head as he whispered, “Control.”

  She grabbed the pen as he walked away to wait for his chai. “Jerk,” she mumbled and watched the corner of his lips twitch.

  The early morning crowd moved quickly after he left the counter. Everyone seemed to know exactly what they wanted without hemming and hawing. Brandy thought it was fantastic… and utterly abnormal.

  Erika grabbed the latest order from her and smiled. “That guy hasn’t quit watching you since we gave him his chai.”

  She glanced at him and found his dark eyes watching her. His back was to the wall, and his nose twitched when the door opened with another customer. She breathed in deeply and recognized the stench immediately. How she never noticed it before was beyond her.

  Following his eyes, she spotted the woman from yesterday walking into the café. The woman stopped in her tracks, and her gaze moved from Brandy to her mystery hero. She caught the slight glow of the woman’s eyes directed at him before she stepped back.

  Tubar.

  Her heart sped up as the tubar contemplated its next move. She took another step back and blindly reached for the door before leaving the café.

  She looked from the door, as another customer stepped through, to him. Their eyes met, and his head cocked to the side as he studied her. With his full attention on her, she refused to let him see how that small incident had shaken her up.

  He sent Brandy a nod of silent communication and followed the direction of the tubar, leaving his undrunk tea and Brandy as she stood in a café full of caffeine addicts who were completely unaware of the demon.

  ***

  “It’s you,” said a familiar voice.

  Brandy gasped and turned on her heels, the key still dangling from her door. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously! Now, what do you mean by ‘it’s me?’” she asked, willing her heart to slow down.

  He looked up and down her hallway, and she followed his gaze. Luckily, none of her neighbors stepped out to investigate. “Let’s talk inside.”

  “No,” she said, drawing his attention.

  “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  She crossed her arms and his eyes followed the movement, lingering a second longer on her breasts before returning to her face. “Look, I’m really grateful you helped me the other night. You haven’t exactly been polite, and I don’t even know your name!”

  “Ryan Palfrey. Now can we please go inside and talk?” he asked. Amusement flashed in his eyes before they hardened.

  Ryan? His name was normal and not at all what she’d expected from someone killing tubars. Then again, she didn’t know what to consider as normal in this new abnormal world she was learning about. Brandy felt like Alice after she’d fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland.

  “Ryan…” she said, testing his name out loud. “How do you know where I live? Wait, how did you even get into the building?”

  “I followed you last night. A lady in 4C let me in,” he said, not attempting to hide the truth. “You really should find a safer place to live.” He looked up and down the hall again, and she wondered what he was looking for. “No
w can we please go inside and talk? Or would you rather your neighbors hear our… less-than-normal conversation?”

  With the last reminder, she sighed and unlocked the door. She looked over her shoulder and watched him stare down the hall once again. After stepping inside, she held open the door and Ryan followed her in before locking it behind him.

  “I’m Brandy, by the way,” she said, cringing at how dumb she sounded.

  “I know,” he said, still facing the door.

  She opened her mouth to ask how he knew, but no words came out as he began drawing along the doorframe with only his fingers. The white frame went gold and then black with his branding before the symbols disappeared entirely. He mumbled under his breath, and a white light sparked.

  When Ryan finished whatever he had just done, he said, “Your name tag.”

  She looked down and spotted it over her left breast. “Oh,” she muttered, feeling stupid and removing it.

  He stepped farther into her apartment and looked around. “Nice place.”

  “Thanks. So, Ryan?”

  “Yeah?” he asked as he looked out the window and down to the now-busy road.

  Brandy dropped the rest of her things onto her kitchen island and grabbed a glass of water. “Want some?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  She handed him a glass and leaned against the counter. His presence in her apartment was unexpected. It made her both comfortable and nervous. She didn’t know how to feel about him. It was as if part of her called for him but the other saw him as a reminder of all the crazy things happening in her life. “Talk,” she demanded, her voice raspy.

  “There is no easy way to say this…”

  “Spit it out. You’ve already stalked my ass home, watched me while I work, and now you’ve done some weird thing to my door without asking.”

  He pointed back with his thumb. “It’s a simple protection spell to keep things that go bump in the night out of your place. If you invite them in… well, that’s all on you.”

  Her insides went warm and gooey that he would put up such a thing for her. She shook the thoughts away and waved her hand at him, silently telling him to continue.