Death's Curses

by Becca Fox

  “Incredible.”

  I grinned, my heart soaring. “Did it work?”

  “I believe so.” She gingerly touched her chest. “I feel a new reserve of power flowing through me.”

  “That’s great. Now, do it again, only for me and Charlie.”

  She didn’t hesitate to close her eyes this time. I felt a tug in my chest, like a ribbon had been tied to something in there but had since been loosened and was now slowly being pulled out of me. It hurt just enough to be uncomfortable. I grunted, wriggling a little in protest. But once it was over—

  I laughed. I felt light as a feather, strong as an ox, healthy as any normal person. I was solid. I was whole.

  Free.

  Just like that, we were all free.

  Death and I shared a big smile.

  “You did it,” I said.

  “I cannot believe it worked!” she squealed, bending her knees. “I always assumed I would need to exert more of my power to undo what I did. I never thought to extract my power from you that way. But it makes absolute sense! After all, I gifted pieces of myself to all of you so taking them back…Of course that would be the answer. Of course.” She wagged a finger at me. “You may be naive, Jasmine Campbell, but you are brilliant.”

  I gave a little curtsy. “Thank you.”

  The smile slipped from her face. “I have done what you asked. Are you still willing to trade places with me?”

  My lightheartedness faded with her smile. I could stay in the land of the living. Celebrate being free of the curse alongside Charlie and the Smiths. Meet Ralph for our date. Sit beside Uncle Victor’s bed and wait for him to recover. Witness Vanessa finally throwing the Velazquezes behind bars. Do everything I’d always wanted to do.

  But in the process I would be taking Death’s only hope for happiness. Could I live with myself if I went back on my word now? I wouldn’t see her again until it was my time to die for real. There was nothing she could do if I went back on my word. Well, nothing except maybe curse us again.

  It was tempting. I was ashamed to admit it, but I was extremely tempted to turn my back on her and race out of there to enjoy my newfound freedom. But I’d already said goodbye to that future on the way up here. I’d made my peace with it. I was ready to move on.

  I nodded.

  Death stepped back, her lips parting in surprise. She’d apparently been bracing herself for disappointment. I felt a surge of gratitude for whatever had given me the strength to do the right thing. This poor minor goddess had been in pain long enough. It was time for her to be free too.

  I dropped the knife. It clanged too loudly against the floor. The birds, which had finally gotten comfortable in their various resting places, took flight again, cawing in annoyance. I stepped toward Death, holding out my hands. “Take my humanity. I offer it to you willingly. Don’t waste it.”

  “I promise not to take it for granted,” she whispered. “Not for a single moment.” She rested the backs of her hands over my palms. “I offer you my power and the responsibilities that come with it. There is no one more trustworthy or capable of bearing the burden of Mistress Death.” Her voice wavered. She looked down at our hands. They were the same size. “I did wish for us to be friends in the beginning. I wanted it more than anything.” She gave a tiny, shaky laugh. A tear escaped. “Now we shall never see each other again.”

  “I’ll be collecting you,” I said through the rock of emotion in my throat. “Don’t forget about that. And, who knows? Maybe I’ll pop in from time to time and check up on you when I’m in this plane, collecting other souls.”

  “If such a thing is possible, I have no doubt you will discover how.” Her aura glowed brighter, millions of tiny fireflies all rushing down her arms and flowing into me. “For you are far braver and cleverer than I.”

  I focused on offering my humanity, small, frail, finite thing that it was. I poured myself out completely and soaked up her power, keeping the two channels separate in my mind’s eye. It was the weirdest feeling. The closest comparison I could think of was sitting in the sunshine after being in the snow for a long time. I was thawing out, replacing the bitter, stiff cold with a soft, warm heat.

  I didn’t know if Charlie was watching this. I wasn’t technically dying. More like evolving into something else. But, just in case he could see what was going on, I smiled. Everything was going to be all right now. With a surge of power and a flurry of feathers, I left the land of the living.

  October 11th, 2019

  Is it fate that has brought us together? It can’t be chance. We never thought we could be enemies with our immortal brethren, but enemies we became. We never thought we would reunite with our enemies, but reunite we have.

  If not for the twins, I would never have agreed to sit down with Segil and Izz. But Jasmine asked as part of an investigation they were working on, so we agreed. Anything to win their trust. Anything to get closer to answers. Anything to reach any sort of end.

  I must confess, our meeting was far more civil than our last meeting in Brazil, but then again we were being watched carefully by Detective Campbell, who wasn’t afraid of Izz and Segil’s power. Anything they did would reflect badly on their political goals. Dare I say, I felt safe in this controlled environment.

  We knew they were afraid. Proud and strong, but afraid nonetheless.

  I almost felt sorry for them. I know the feeling too well. But since they allowed us to live through our last encounter when they were in complete control of their city, I’m certain they’ll let us live in a city they have so little control over.

  I can’t say I’m surprised Fadele and Nij have finally come to attack their politically inclined brethren. It seems almost inevitable now that I think about it. One couple chose law and another chose outlaw.

  And we the pacifists have found ourselves in the middle.

  How poetic.

  But like I said, now having met the miracle twins, now having the biggest connection to Death we have ever known embodied in this one girl, I’d do anything for her. If it means trust from Jasmine and her family, I would even put myself and Dymeka in harm’s way. For once that trust is established, we will meet Death through her somehow. I just know it.

  Chapter 43

  Charles

  It was like having another vision, only this time I was watching myself die.

  The process was slow. Agonizing. And surprisingly quiet. I meant that literally. I couldn’t hear anything aside from my ragged breathing and wild heartbeat as I got out of the car.

  Something inside of me, something that had been there long enough for me to get used to it, had been unraveled. Taken. Cut out of me with surgical precision. It hurt at the time, but the second it was over, I knew we weren’t cursed anymore.

  Still, I couldn’t celebrate or start crying in gratitude. Because I knew this was Jasmine’s doing. Death hadn’t been willing to undo this mess when my sister had asked the first time. That’s probably why she’d offered a trade when she’d cut open her arm. She’d promised Death something in exchange for our freedom, something valuable. There were only two or three possibilities that I could come up with and I didn’t like any of them.

  As I sprinted through the precinct, my mind moved as fast as my legs, going back and forth between cursing my sister and praying she was okay. I’d almost lost Uncle Victor. I couldn’t lose her.

  When I threw open the roof access door, I had a stitch in my side. The back of my throat was so dry; it hurt to breathe. But I couldn’t stop. The birdhouse was only a few steps away. The doors were still open. There wasn’t a single bird in sight.

  I raced in to find the Smiths kneeling in front of a dried puddle of blood.

  “Jasmine, where are you?” I stopped short when I saw the knife, the tip stained rust red. My stomach clenched. I had to look away before I was sick.

  The bucket of birdseed sat on the bench like I’d seen in my vision. Next to it was a folded piece of lined paper. The edge was frayed, as if it had been
torn out of a notebook. When I picked it up, I felt my own pulse through the paper. I looked around, desperate for an answer. Hoping beyond hope that I wasn’t holding my sister’s suicide note.

  “Jazz!” I screamed, continuing my run. I went to all four corners of the birdhouse before coming back to the pond and its damn bench.

  The Smiths still knelt there, watching helplessly.

  There was no one else here. Not Jasmine. Not Death.

  I blinked back tears. This couldn’t be happening. Glaring down at the note I still held, clutched tightly between my fingers, I fought against the urge to open it. I refused to believe this was happening. My need for answers beat the stubborn denial in the end. I wrenched the note open.

  I’ve decided to trade places with Death.

  I staggered until the backs of my knees hit the stone bench. I fell into it, staring down at the paper. The words blurred together as I read on.

  Angela was right; I am valuable to Death because I’m the only one who can relieve her of her duty. I’m going to force Death to undo the curses and then, once I’ve become Death herself, I’ll cure Uncle Vic.

  I don’t know if this’ll work, but I have to try. I’m done watching everyone else do the dangerous things. I’m done being helpless. It’s time I saved the day for once.

  I’m not going to ask you to forgive me. I know you’re going to be pissed. I would be too if you pulled a crazy, stupid stunt like this. Just know that I didn’t do this out of despair or depression or because I was tired of living. I did it to give you and Uncle Vic and Anthony a chance to truly live.

  So don’t ruin this. Don’t spend the rest of your days mourning and hating me for abandoning you. Don’t stay cooped up in that basement, guarding yourself from the world. Do everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Finish college. Visit Europe. Go sailing. Get married. Make babies. Make mistakes. Become a better person. There’s a great big world out there. Savor everything.

  For me. For you. For us.

  I love you, little brother. You and Uncle Vic and Tony are my whole world. Never forget it.

  The page fell through my numb fingers. I watched it flit and spin on its way to the ground.

  Mrs. Smith picked it up gingerly. I didn’t watch her read it. I couldn’t lift my head. It was all I could do just to breathe. The world seemed to understand how important it was to stay silent. Because at any minute I was going to totally lose my shit.

  “She’s done it then,” Mr. Smith said. He must’ve been reading over his wife’s shoulder. “The blessed girl saved us all.”

  “Charles.”

  I finally looked up.

  Mrs. Smith’s lips trembled. She could hardly get the words out. “I am…so sorry.”

  I mutely held out my hand. She lowered the note into it and squeezed my fingers. I let my hand slip out of her grip, fall back into my lap.

  “She was the most incredible person I’d ever met,” Mrs. Smith went on. “So brave and smart and caring.”

  That’s when the shaking started. Was I cold? Was I angry? Was I going into shock? I honestly didn’t know.

  “I’m glad someone like her has become Lady Death.”

  “But what happened to the former Death?” Her husband looked around, like he expected to find Death crouched behind a bush or something. “When the trade was complete, what became of her? Did she die? Did she take Jasmine’s place in this world as a mortal?”

  Mrs. Smith shrugged helplessly. “Does it matter? She’s gone where we’ll never be able to reach her.” She stood and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  I shrugged it off. “Don’t.” My voice was gravelly. My face was hot. I was a wounded animal. Nobody should be near me. “I need to be alone. Please, go away.”

  “Of course. If there’s anything we can do for you—”

  “Can you bring Jasmine back?” I snapped.

  Mrs. Smith recoiled.

  Her husband put a protective arm around her shoulders and frowned at me. “Come, darling. The boy wants to be alone.”

  I gnashed my teeth as I watched them leave. I didn’t care that I was being a dick.

  Uncle Victor was probably waking up right about now, feeling better than ever. His doctors were probably studying his charts and asking him if they could run a bunch of tests to find out what could’ve caused this miracle. Vanessa was probably bringing the Velazquezes in right now, triumphantly putting an end to their smuggling empire. The Salamander would be called off and we would all be safe.

  None of it mattered. My world had just ended and I was starting to implode.

  I’m done being helpless. It’s time I saved the day for once.

  She saved me every day. Why hadn’t I ever told her?

  I’m not going to ask you to forgive me.

  Good, because I never would.

  I did it to give you and Uncle Vic and Anthony a chance to truly live.

  There was no way we could truly live, not without her.

  Do everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

  All I ever wanted was for her to be safe and happy. Was she safe? Could she be happy now that she was all alone?

  Get married. Make babies. Make mistakes.

  And who was I going to run to when I didn’t know how to make things right?

  I love you, little brother.

  “No, you don’t. Otherwise you’d still be here!” I screamed that last part up at the glass ceiling.

  My voice echoed in the empty birdhouse. This place used to be a refuge, somewhere Jasmine could go to find peace and a little bit of joy. Now it was just grimy glass walls, drooping plants, filtered water and cold stone. A place without warmth, without life. Without Jasmine.

  Without Jasmine.

  Putting my head in my hands, I screamed some more.

  * * *

  Chapter 44

  Esmeralda

  I went back to the hospital because Charlie hadn’t been answering my texts. I knew he was working on the investigation so I didn’t think anything of it. I figured I could help by visiting Victor and comforting anyone I found there at his side. But when I arrived, the detective was awake. Completely cured. His right eye worked and everything. I had a ton of questions but not even Victor knew what had happened. Charlie showed up then, looking like…well, like Jasmine had died. He didn’t say anything, just handed his uncle a note.

  After he was finished reading, Victor Campbell bowed his head and cried. Straight up burst into tears. There was sobbing and snot—the whole nine yards. Then Charlie started crying. Neither of them would tell me what the hell was going on. I had to pry the note out of the detective’s hands.

  “Well, shit,” I muttered after I’d finished reading it.

  Then I started crying. I’d been there before, when my dad died. I knew there was no point in trying to be strong. What mourning people needed was someone to be a mess alongside them, someone to show them that they weren’t alone. Because no amount of words could fix the fact that this person, who was supposed to always be there, suddenly wasn’t. And never would be again.

  The only thing that hurt more than knowing Jasmine was gone was knowing how broken and hurt Charlie was now. The best guy in the whole Goddamn world just couldn’t catch a break.

  ◆◆◆

  After the doctors had performed all their tests and had discovered nothing that explained Victor’s miraculous recovery, he was discharged from the hospital. He and Charlie went back to the precinct. Before they left, they asked me not to tell Aunt Dinah anything until they’d come up with a cover story, which I totally understood. The only problem was that I had to pretend like everything was fine. Even though I knew damn well that Charlie would never be fine. I took an Uber back to my aunt’s.

  I tolerated Hunter for another evening, which wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Ever since Aunt Dinah chewed him out, he’d been quieter, like a sulking kid. It was a huge improvement so I couldn’t complain too much. My mom and I played some board games and helped my aunt pre
pare dinner. We had dessert on the plastic-covered couches in the sitting room and watched a movie. Then we all went to bed. It was so normal; it almost didn’t feel real.

  All the while I wondered how Charlie and Victor were doing, whether they’d been coherent enough to get themselves something to eat. I was sure their evening couldn’t have felt very real either, what with the new Jasmine-shaped hole in the apartment.

  Charlie tapped on my window at eleven-ish. We cuddled in bed for a while, not saying anything. I held him tighter when he started shaking. It was all I could do.

  He spent the night. We didn’t plan it that way. He just cried himself to sleep. I eventually nodded off too. He was nestled up beside me, using my collarbone as a pillow. It wasn’t as if I could’ve gone anywhere. When morning came, I was little spoon. Charlie had his arm around me and his nose pressed against the back of my head. I could feel his breath moving through my hair, sliding down my neck. Like a finger tracing a warm line over my scalp and skin.

  It should’ve freaked me out because Marty used to run his finger down my spine before we had sex. It used to send me into an anxiety attack every time he did it. But this felt different somehow.

  Maybe it was because Charlie was asleep, vulnerable, completely unaware of what he was doing. Maybe it was because he’d been so hurt and vulnerable last night. Maybe it was just because it was Charlie, and I trusted him more than I’d ever trusted a guy before.

  Whatever the reason, this proved to me that I wouldn’t be afraid to have sex with him when the time came. I wouldn’t be afraid to do anything as long as it was with him. He was my safe place, and always would be. With that empowering thought, I carefully rolled over and kissed him awake.

  “You have to go,” I whispered. “Your uncle is going to kill you.”

  “Shit,” he grumbled, blinking sleepily. Once he’d untangled himself from the covers, he lumbered around the room like a zombie, gathering his things.