Hexed (The Gwen Sparks Series Book 4)

by Nelson, Stephanie

  “What are you doing?”

  Giving up, I dropped my hands from the glass and spun to face Fiona. “A woman just appeared in my mirror.” Under different circumstances, I might have felt like a nut after saying something like that.

  “What did she say?”

  A shaky laugh huffed through my lips. Fiona hadn’t looked at me like I was nuts. Matter of fact, her face was full of curiosity, not judgment. What a bizarre world I found myself in.

  “She told me to do the right thing, that a wrong must be righted. She said things were only going to get worse.”

  Fiona folded her arms across her chest. “That’s what I was worried about.”

  “You know who it was?”

  She shook her head. “No, but Ethan just returned from Moon and, well, he doesn’t have good news.”

  My eyes closed on a long blink before I inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Some part of me knew Ethan wouldn’t find any good news in Moon, but the other part foolishly believed that just maybe he would. The clear look of apprehension crossing Fiona’s face told me that it wasn’t just bad news, it was horrible news.

  I SAT ON the couch with my legs crossed and hugged a pillow to my chest. The sun was just setting and cast an orangey pink glow through my living room window. Fiona sat beside me while Ethan sat in the overstuffed chair to my right. Dark shadows circled his eyes as though he hadn’t gotten much sleep in his absence. His eyes, normally a pale blue, were dull and now had little red veins shooting out from them. His usual put together appearance was also missing. He still looked nice in a pair of jeans and a button down shirt, but the shirt had more wrinkles than a pug, and his jeans were loose as though he’d worn them multiple days in a row.

  “The tension is smothering me,” I said, eyeing Ethan and wishing like hell Dorian was here. There was something about him that made even the worst new seem bearable, and I had a feeling I’d need that illusion after I heard what Ethan had to say.

  “What has Dorian told you?” Ethan asked. He leaned forward and rested his bent elbows on his knees. He ran a hand through his mussed hair before looking over at me for my response. I chewed my lip, contemplating whether I should tell him the truth. I still wasn’t sure if I could trust Ethan, though I wanted to. Fiona was a good person and she trusted him. That simple fact was a major point in his favor. Dorian, on the other hand, wasn’t subtle in his dislike for my best friend’s boyfriend, and I wasn’t sure if that was because Ethan really was a bad guy or because he was just overprotective of me.

  “You can tell him,” Fiona said, urging me on.

  “You haven’t told him already?” I asked and then frowned when I heard how accusing my voice sounded. “I didn’t mean that as harshly as it sounded,” I finished.

  Fiona gave me a small smile. “It’s okay and, no I haven’t said anything. I figured if you wanted him to know, you could tell him yourself.”

  I smiled back, realizing that Dorian hadn’t just been hard on Ethan, but Fiona as well. Whatever may have happened between us, Fiona had proved countless times that she took our friendship seriously.

  I sucked in a deep breath, preparing myself. I tried to think of what Dorian had said verbatim, but realized he had confessed to what he’d done using a more-or-less technique. But I got the gist of it, understood what had happened. If Ethan needed clearer details, he’d have to ask Death himself. Something about that amused me. I pushed the ill-timed amusement away and refocused on the present.

  “Dorian restored my soul after a rogue killed me at my shop,” I blurted, needing to get it all out at once in fear of losing my confidence in Ethan’s trustworthiness. My lips teetered on the edge of confessing to the encounter I just had in my bedroom, but I curled them inward so I wouldn’t blurt anything out again. I needed to talk to Dorian before I told Ethan else about that strange exchange.

  Ethan hung his head as though my confession sucked the last of his energy out of his body. He cradled his head in his hands and scratched his scalp before looking up again.

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” he said. “As you know, I spoke with the North American Witches Council and, after researching countless tomes, we found out that this has happened before. A witch in 1822 concocted a spell that would give her eternal life. While most supernatural beings have abnormally long lives, we’re not immortal—not even vampires have eternal life.” Ethan reached for his cup of cola, took a long drink, and set the cup back down.

  “It’s believed that the witch had become very ill and knew her death was close. So, in order to cheat death, she created an elixir that would not only shield her from Death’s—aka Dorian Hade’s— notice, but make her immortal.”

  While I found Ethan’s story interesting, what really caught my attention was the fact that Dorian had been alive in 1822. In some aspect, I knew Dorian was old but having proof was eye opening.

  “So what happened?” Fiona asked.

  “The townspeople started noticing oddities in their community, subtle things at first that eventually increased to more serious incidents. They all knew the witch was dying, but when they saw her walking through town, healthier than ever, they grew suspicious.”

  “They killed her, didn’t they?” I asked as a shiver found its way up my spine.

  Ethan nodded. “Not at first,” he said. “First, they tried to get her to confess to what she had done. They wanted to find a way to fix the oddities in their town, while also allowing the witch to live. However, the witch was not forthcoming and the longer she lived, the more the bizarre occurrences progressed. It was on the seventh night that the town’s council voted to have her killed. The only problem was, the witch was suspected of being immortal. They knew killing her wasn’t going to be easy. A master spell caster was able to create a potion that would render her powers useless. The spell would only work for a short period, and they had to find a way to get the witch to ingest the potion. They hired an archer and soaked one of his arrows in the potion. When the tip pierced her heart, it not only released the potion into her bloodstream, but killed her on the spot. The next morning everything went back to normal.”

  After Ethan’s story, the three of us remained quiet. We all knew I was the reason behind Flora’s bizarre incidences, and now knew how to fix the problem. Talk about awkward.

  “There has to be another way,” Fiona finally said. “Gwen’s didn’t choose this; Dorian made that choice for her. She shouldn’t be punished for it.”

  I swallowed around the clog in my throat. “Even if he hadn’t done anything, I’d still be dead, Fiona. The point isn’t so much what Dorian did, it’s that I’m not supposed to be alive in the first place. Dorian just let me borrow more time.”

  “And in the process screwed up the entire balance of things,” Ethan muttered.

  I shot him a glare, but kept my mouth shut. What could I say, that he was wrong? He wasn’t wrong. A thought occurred to me then.

  “How long ago was I attacked by the rogue?”

  Fiona and Ethan looked at each other and shrugged.

  “We were in Moon,” Fiona said. “Shortly afterwards you and Dorian went to New Orleans, so maybe a week, week and a half at the most.”

  “Then why are all these weird things just starting to happen?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they have started immediately after Dorian restored my soul?”

  “I asked the council about that, as well,” Ethan said. “And while there wasn’t a lot of information on it, we think that the incidents only happen where the offender is, like a raincloud following them around. Also, we have a theory that while you may have known what Dorian did, you didn’t grasp the severity of the situation.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, almost offended.

  “I mean,” Ethan continued, “that you didn’t understand that although Dorian had restored your soul, you didn’t realize that it was still expired. It’s like when a ghost doesn’t realize they’re dead. They live in a state of confusion until they eventually find out or the m
atter is brought to their attention.”

  I huffed as understanding clicked into place. “Ms. Willow was hired to bring the matter to my attention. Whoever hired her knew that it would bring all of this to light, and we’d be forced to acknowledge the problem.”

  Ethan nodded. “Yeah, whoever hired her knows what Dorian did and plans to fix his mistake. And since you’re back in Flora, the raincloud has followed you so to speak.”

  I thought about the woman in my mirror, how she’d said taking my memories would make this easier—make dying easier. This was the wrong she wanted me to correct. I asked the one question that I knew was on everyone’s mind.

  “So, how long before my archer shows up?”

  I’D RENTED AN SUV earlier today from the next town over. I couldn’t cart five spirit walkers around on my motorcycle. As I drummed my fingers against the side of the car, listening to the music, Mariana had a few choice words about my selection.

  “Def Leppard?” she asked with incredulity.

  I shot her a sidelong glance, noting the deep V-neck of her top. Just a couple of months ago I may have appreciated the view, but her displayed cleavage didn’t hold my interest. Not like it should have. When I picked them up at the inn, she’d insisted on sitting shotgun while the other four piled into the back.

  “My car, my music,” I told her.

  “Actually,” Jerrick said from the back seat, “I think shotgun picks the music.”

  I eyed him through the rearview mirror. “Would you really rather listen to some pop shit?”

  His lips curled at the edges. “Nah, I like the eighties music. Just siding with the pretty lady.”

  I shook my head, bringing my attention back to the scene outside. Drumming my fingers, I listened to “Hysteria.” The song always made me think of Gwen, having listened to it one night after she left to spend the night with Aiden. I could say that the feelings I have for Gwen developed over the short time we’d known each other, but that would be a lie. If I was being honest, I’d wanted her from that first meeting in the rain so long ago. Learning she was dating a vampire and wouldn’t succumb to me, only pissed me off, having never felt a connection with a women, let alone one I couldn’t have.

  “Keep dreaming, Maple Leaf,” Mariana said to Jerrick. “I prefer my men a little more…dangerous.”

  I felt her eyes on me but ignored the weight of her gaze. A few years ago she’d come onto me like a cat in heat, and I’d had to tell her about my rule of not mixing business and pleasure. Believe it or not, before Gwen I actually followed not only the cosmic rules, but my own set of rules. Sleeping with those working for me was only a recipe for disaster. Mariana hadn’t been happy that I refused her, but that didn’t stop her from letting me know she was still interested anytime our paths crossed. When she learned that Gwen and I were an item, I thought smoke was going to come out of her ears. While I’d had my rule of never getting intimate with spirit walkers, that reasoning went out the window once she learned I was very much involved with Gwen. My rejection became personal for her.

  “You’re missing out,” Jerrick said. “Canadian men are pros at licking syrup.”

  I silently grumbled at his pathetic double entendre. “Hey, fail at picking women up on your own time.”

  “That was some weak ass shit,” Braden said while he and Reece laughed at Jerrick’s expense. I didn’t feel sorry for him; he’d brought it on himself.

  I eyed Bree in the back, sitting quietly and clearly uncomfortable. The girl looked like she belonged behind a library desk, not hanging out with this crude crowd. Let alone guiding spirits.

  “Fuck you, guys,” Jerrick retorted. “Mariana is just playing hard to get. She loves me.”

  Mariana snorted and shook her head, but a smile was on her face. Any attention was good in Mariana’s eyes. She may not intend to take Jerrick up on his offer, but she enjoyed his affections.

  “So…” Reece started. His hesitation told me he was nervous about finishing his thought.

  “What?” I asked just as Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” came on.

  “Really?” Mariana asked, again annoyed with my music.

  I shrugged. “It’s called irony.”

  “You and this Gwen woman,” Reece continued.

  “What about her?” I shot him a look through the rearview mirror. He didn’t need to see my eyes to know the look was a warning to tread carefully.

  “You’re really a couple or is it just…casual?”

  His question made me more uncomfortable than I liked. For as long as I have known these guys, I’d never been hard up for a woman before.

  “It’s not casual,” I told him, flexing my fingers against the steering wheel.

  “Pity,” Reece said, smirking.

  “It’s like you want me to rip your dick off and feed it to you,” I told him, but I found myself smirking, too. Reece lived to fuck with me. What he didn’t know was that I would only tolerate so much when it came to Gwen.

  “Ugh,” Mariana grumbled. “Gwen this, Gwen that. What’s so special about her?”

  “Besides the fact that she’s hot as fuck?” Reece replied, which garnered a glare from Mariana.

  “I’m hot,” she said. “She’s…average.”

  “Careful, Mariana,” Braden interjected. “Your jealousy’s showing.”

  “Let’s stop talking about Gwen,” I said.

  “Finally,” Mariana mumbled, crossing her arms and staring out the window.

  Their discussion over Gwen wasn’t what bothered me; I was worried they’d start asking other questions, more dangerous questions. I needed to keep them in the dark so they didn’t grow suspicious. While I was threat enough to dissuade them from going after Gwen, I didn’t even want the thoughts going through their heads. It wasn’t necessarily their fault; they’re made for this type of stuff, spirits lingering in places they shouldn’t or possessing bodies. In a way, I supposed Gwen’s spirit was possessing her own body.

  “So what are we doing?” Bree asked, her soft voice barely making it to my ears.

  I gave her a smile, happy for the change in topic. “Souls aren’t moving on. Find them and release them.”

  “Because some witch hexed Gwen and the town?” Braden asked with skepticism.

  “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I snapped.

  “It’s just, I’ve never heard of a witch—or any being—having the power to stop people from dying. Are you sure you got your facts straight?”

  I pulled along the curb outside the FPD building and put the car in park. Taking a calming breath, I shut the car off.

  “I’m taking care of the witch, Gwen, and the balance,” I told them. “All I need you guys to do is focus on the souls. If we get them moved on, it’ll help tip the energy back into balance.” At least I hoped. The weight of dark energy was growing stronger by the day, while the light barely registered. I could sense the expired souls lingering in Flora, their energy unnatural and growing more agitated by the minute.

  “In this instance, this is a need to know basis, and you guys don’t need to know,” I continued. “Just do your job, and I’ll take care of the rest.” I opened the door and stepped out. Leaning down to the open window, I said, “I have business to take care of here. You guys can start cleaning up the town, and remember anonymity is important.”

  Without another word, I turned around and made my way up the cement walkway that led to the FPD’s front doors. If the spirit walkers thought my secrecy on this matter was strange, they didn’t say, but I knew eventually they would. I just needed to figure out a way to fix things before that happened.

  Stepping into the FPD’s lobby, I scanned the area in search of Micah. Lackeys sat at desks spread out across the main floor, typing and filling out paperwork. I didn’t know how they didn’t kill themselves.

  “May I help you?”

  My eyes fell to the receptionist sitting at a U-shaped desk. Her brown eyes watched me with uncertainty, her instincts tel
ling her not to trust me. Oftentimes, humans didn’t listen to those instincts, the little voice in the back of their heads that kicked their fight or flight into action. And while this woman wasn’t human but a fairy, if my instincts were anything to go by, even she hesitated to listen to that warning voice. There was something about me that, although dangerous, was also alluring to people. They didn’t come across something like me often.

  “No,” I replied, walking past her. I followed the hallway Gwen and I had used the other night, the one leading to the holding cells. Before I’d been hesitant to use my full powers on Ms. Willow in fear of scaring Gwen. With her mind being so delicate, I didn’t want to do anything that would cause her to recoil from me. Now that Gwen wasn’t here, I fully intended to do whatever I had to get Ms. Willow to talk.

  “Hey,” the receptionist called behind me, “you can’t go back there.”

  I released an aggravated huff, ignoring her warning. I knew I should have just shifted myself into the holding cell. Witnesses were always pains in the ass.

  Mid-stride, I concentrated my energy on transporting my body to Ms. Willow’s cell. One minute I was walking down the hallway, and the next my body shifted and reappeared inside the room with the cells. A man, and by man I mean vampire, jumped at my sudden appearance.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” he asked me.

  I focused on his soul, testing to see if it was expired or not. Not. Ignoring him, I walked down the short aisle. The sounds of my boots hitting the concrete floor reverberated against the cinder block walls. Ms. Willow sat in the last cell, curled up on her bed. At my arrival, she lifted her head and sat up.

  “I never thought I’d be lucky enough to speak of a visit from Death,” she said, standing. “I have a feeling I won’t get lucky a second time.”

  Smart woman.

  “That all depends,” I told her.

  “I cannot tell you who hired me,” she responded.

  I clucked my tongue and shook my head as though berating a child. “We’re not off to a great start here. Help me help you.” I grinned humorously.