The Spellcaster's Trap (The Familiar Curse Book 1)

by C. L. Bright

  “My relationship with his family is shaky, so it would be best if I make sure he’s home before we drop by. I’ll also get a warmer welcome if I’m expected.”

  I needed to trust Dante’s judgment, but it was hard when I was so anxious to find out if his old friend would help us. I also felt uneasy in the large crowd of spellcasters.

  The closer we got to the smell of food, the hungrier I felt. At least my appetite was returning. We entered a large building with a skylight and several tables for dining. Along the walls were various food stalls.

  “What do you feel like eating?” Dante asked as he looked around.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure what they have. Why don’t you pick something for both of us?”

  He nodded and headed toward one of the stalls to place our order. While we waited for the food from that stall, he placed orders at two others.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to order more?” I asked with twitching lips as we waited for our food.

  He grinned. “You’ll thank me for ordering all of this once you taste it.”

  “Unless they’re small portions, I’m not sure we’ll finish everything.”

  “We’ll finish,” he assured me. “My appetite seems to have come back with a vengeance, and neither of us got more than a few bites at breakfast.”

  “You haven’t eaten much in the last couple of days. I suppose you need to rebuild your strength.”

  “I’ve done little more than sleep, so it’s not like I needed much food.”

  “You came very close to dying.” My voice caught. “I suppose you have a couple of days’ worth of eating to catch up on.”

  “And this food is incredible,” he added. “I can’t remember the last time I ate here.”

  “Why don’t you come here more often if you like it so much?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “The last few years have been busy, and I haven’t had much downtime. First, my time was eaten up with hunter training. Since I started hunting last year, I’ve had even less free time. That surprised me since I have cousins who aren’t as busy.”

  “What about your brothers?” I asked.

  “Nicolas hunts every day, but that’s by choice. Ambrose only goes out four to five days most weeks.”

  “And you?” I asked as I took a seat at the table.

  “I’m out six days a week,” he replied. “I’m surprised my father hasn’t complained about me taking time off from hunting. He seemed reluctant to agree when I asked, and I figured he’d change his mind.”

  “I hope he doesn’t. Why does Ambrose go out less often than you?” I asked.

  “He’s not quite as good at tracking,” he explained. “My father thinks that if I get more experience, I’ll become an even better tracker than I am now. For that reason, hunting is my only real responsibility most days. Of course, I still have to dispose of bodies and handle paperwork.”

  I looked down at the table to hide my expression. Dante was a good killer and a skilled hunter of my kind. Once I left, he’d return to hunting.

  What choice did he have?

  Spellcasters didn’t have any more control over their destiny than shapeshifters.

  When I finally looked up, I found Dante watching me. He looked tense. I suspected part of his tension related to his worry I’d withdraw at the mention of his job as a hunter. I didn’t think that was all of it. Dante’s feelings regarding my kind had changed, and I knew this would make it harder to do his job.

  “Life can be so unfair.” I laughed as soon as the words left my lips. “Ignore my self-pity.”

  “We all get to feel sorry for ourselves from time to time,” he assured me. “This food will make you feel much better.”

  “Everything here certainly smells good,” I replied.

  “I’ll grab our orders,” he told me.

  He returned with a tray containing so much food that I was surprised nothing had fallen off.

  “You’d better be as hungry as you claim,” I warned. “This is even more food than I imagined when I said you’d ordered too much.”

  “Trust me.” He started piling food onto his plate. “Go ahead and dig in.”

  “What should I start with?” I asked.

  Rather than answering, he put several rolls and a dish with dipping sauce on my plate. “Start with these. They’re my favorite.”

  The rolls had a flaky outside and were filled with spicy meat and vegetables. “This is good.”

  “It’s much better if you dip it in the sauce,” he told me as he dipped his own.

  I did, and he was right.

  Next, he scooped out a rice dish and added meat and sauce before handing it to me. I didn’t like it as much as the rolls, but it was still good. I ate three more rolls and some steamed vegetables. When he started serving a bread dish with something dark red sprinkled on it, I shook my head.

  “I can’t possibly eat another bite, Dante.” We’d finished nearly everything. “I will never doubt you can finish a big meal again.”

  “As I was bringing it over, I started to doubt myself, and with good reason,” he replied. “There is no way I’m going to be able to eat more than a few bites of this bread. Luckily, we can get it wrapped up to eat later.”

  “That will give us a good excuse to hide in your room instead of going down for dinner,” I remarked.

  “We can always use the excuse that I’m too tired after a day out. We can blame my recovery for making me less social for another day or two.”

  I watched him closely. “You do look a little tired.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

  “You’re jaw tenses when you’re trying to stifle a yawn, and you’re also less animated as the day wears on.”

  “I hadn’t realized I was animated before,” he remarked. “You’re right about me being tired. At least I don’t ache everywhere anymore. That’s a good start, and I suspect I’ll be good as new by the end of the week.”

  “Where to next?” I asked.

  Dante looked at his phone and frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “Nothing yet?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “If he doesn’t get back to me by tomorrow, we’ll stop by. How about if I take you shopping?”

  “Shopping?”

  “You only have three outfits—only one in your size,” he pointed out. “I think we should pick up a few more things.” He looked at the stretch pants I had rolled up and the shirt I’d taken from his drawers that morning. “Your borrowed clothes are too big.”

  Looking around, I saw that no one was near. The table closest to us had about ten witches, and all were talking loudly and attracting the attention of other diners, so I felt safe speaking honestly.

  “I need to leave tomorrow, even if we don’t meet your friend before then.”

  My words hung between us.

  “You know I can’t stay here longer.”

  “We’ll talk about it later,” he told me as he stood. “I’m going to get this bread wrapped up, and then we’ll get you something new to wear.”

  I let out a sigh as he walked away. I wasn’t going to argue with him. We needed to make the most of what little time we had.

  Chapter 31

  Despite my arguments, Dante insisted on getting me two changes of clothes. He even talked me into getting new boots.

  I was surprised by how much my new clothes and boots improved my mood. They also made me look less out of place. Dressed in soft denim pants and a red V-neck cotton shirt, I walked out of the store and did a little bounce in my new shoes. They were nothing fancy, just black ankle boots, but it felt like I was walking on pillows.

  “I’ve never had a pair of boots this comfortable.” I bounced again. “I got new ones over a month ago, but I kept putting off breaking them in. These don’t need to be broken in at all.”

  Dante smiled as he watched me hop on one foot and then the other. “The witch who handles most of the shoe spells was out today, or I’d have introduce
d you to her. Celeste would love watching you jump around in a pair of her special boots. She’s very proud of this spell, but it’s nothing new for Azureans. We don’t have many visits from Tulureans or any other spellcaster communities.”

  “How long has Celeste been doing the shoe spells here?” I asked as we started walking toward the train that would take us back toward Dante’s home.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. She’s at least ninety, and she created the spell in her teens. Her family has gone to great lengths to keep her age a secret.”

  “Why?”

  “She likes the mystery,” he explained. “Celeste is quite entertaining. She might look older, but she still acts young. I always felt she looked much younger than she’s reputed to be.”

  “Maybe she is younger,” I suggested.

  “She can’t be that much younger,” he insisted. “We have spellcasters who were alive when she was young, just none that were close to her family at the time of her birth.”

  “That’s strange,” I remarked. “I can’t imagine trying to hide my age.”

  “Not worried about growing old?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not so much that as I know it’s inevitable. We all grow old. It’s part of our natural life cycle.”

  “Yes, but not all witches feel that way,” he replied.

  “I’m sure it’s not just witches,” I argued. “Warlocks probably also don’t like the idea of growing old.”

  “True,” he agreed. “Some fear aging because of vanity. They think youth is the key to their beauty. Others are afraid of death or having their magic fade with time.”

  I nodded my understanding. After my recent near brush with death, I understood the fear of dying all too well. It was a natural fear, but one I hadn’t experienced before. Protected as the future ruler of my people, I’d never been in any real danger until the day Nidia left me in a trap.

  We stepped onto the train with about a dozen other spellcasters, and I looked out the window to watch the people moving below us.

  Azuredale was much different from my home at the Heathergate Refuge. While we had vehicles for when we needed to travel outside of our main community, we usually walked or changed to our animal form to get around. Though my animal was only a small cat, I could move much faster and travel longer distances in that form.

  The dozen or so families living in the outlying areas kept vehicles with them for when they needed to make supply trips to the main areas. Some were placed there as guards, while others simply preferred to live more remotely.

  Like the spellcasters, our buildings all had panels on the roofs to provide power. There were many trees and plants along the walkways and among the buildings. Our structures were simpler, single-story with no ornate details.

  There was also no big marketplace in the Heathergate Refuge. We didn’t have restaurants, though I’d heard some shapeshifters enjoyed the one at the trading post.

  Food orders were delivered to homes except in the case of trades made between households. A family growing tomatoes might trade with one growing lemons. We did have shops that stocked clothing and accessories similar to the ones in Azuredale.

  Dante tapped my shoulder when we reached our stop, and I followed him off the train in silence. Catching my hand, he tugged me close as we stood on the platform. He cradled my cheek and met my gaze.

  “I enjoyed showing you around today, Juliet.”

  “It was a nice outing,” I replied with a smile.

  “The boots truly made your day, didn’t they?”

  “Well, they certainly made it better,” I admitted. “Spending time with you is what I enjoyed most.”

  Dante brushed his lips against mine before stepping back and catching my hand in his.

  When I looked around, I saw that a few witches had stopped to watch us.

  “You are so lucky!” one witch gushed as she approached us. “I could practically feel your combined magic buzzing through the air when he touched you.”

  I forced a bright smile and hoped no sadness showed in my eyes. “Yes, I am lucky to have found Dante.”

  The witch’s eyes widened as her gaze shifted to Dante. “You’re Dante Verdugo.”

  He nodded.

  The other three witches approached, and one spoke. “We heard about you saving Dante’s life. That was so brave.”

  “We also heard the ugly rumors,” another added before looking at Dante. “The ones your brother is spreading.”

  “Those are all lies,” Dante told them.

  “Obviously,” the first witch replied with a roll of her eyes.

  Another nodded. "I thought they might be true at first, but now that I’ve seen you together, there’s no way your witch would have betrayed you.”

  I squeezed Dante’s hand and met his gaze. “I would never do anything to hurt Dante.”

  His gaze held longing. “Not if you could help it, anyway,” he added softly.

  “Yes, not if I could help it,” I agreed.

  The witches were still watching us as if we were the most fascinating thing they’d ever seen.

  “We should go home,” Dante announced.

  “There’s a spell circle tonight,” one of the witches said before we could walk off. “You should come, Juliet.”

  I didn’t have a clue what a spell circle was, not that it mattered. “Dante hasn’t quite recovered, so we’re going to stay in for the rest of the day.”

  The first witch touched my arm and gave me a coaxing smile. “I’m sure he can take care of himself for a little while. Dante can’t keep you to himself all the time, and this will give you a chance to make more friends in Azuredale.”

  The other witches nodded, all seeming genuinely interested in making me feel welcome.

  “Another time,” I lied. “I want to stick close to Dante until he’s fully recovered.”

  There were oohs and ahs from the witches before one gave me her name and number and told me to call her if I changed my mind.

  Dante was smiling as we walked away from the train station. “You’re winning over a lot of spellcasters.”

  I frowned. “Yes, they all like the witch who saved you.”

  Dante’s expression sobered at my emphasis on the word witch, but he said nothing more on the subject. “Will you sleep with me again tonight?” he asked instead.

  “I’m not planning to leave your side.”

  Chapter 32

  We were lying in Dante’s bed and watching a movie when he finally got a response from his old friend. He looked relieved until he started reading the message.

  “Bad news?” I asked.

  “No.” I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

  “You don’t look happy,” I pointed out.

  Dante had just finished typing out a reply and set his phone to the side. “I was hoping to meet with him much earlier—tonight would have been best.”

  “I’m not sure you’re in any condition to go out again today,” I told him. “You didn’t even need to lie to your family to get out of dinner with them.”

  He cringed. “It was a little embarrassing to be sent to my room by my mother in front of you.”

  I giggled at the memory of Laranissa shooing him upstairs the moment he came in the door.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I asked as I sat cross-legged facing him.

  “Sure.”

  “Why do you refer to Laranissa by her name sometimes and call her your mother other times?”

  “I was so young when she got together with my father that I don’t remember a time when she didn’t act as a mother to me. I used to call her that all the time when I was younger,” he explained.

  “What changed?”

  “As I got older, Nicolas made it a point of telling me Laranissa isn’t our actual mother.”

  “But if she’s always acted like a mother to you, then it shouldn’t matter if she gave birth to you,” I argued.

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “Just because I started callin
g her Laranissa doesn’t mean I stopped thinking of her as my mother. When I was eight, I got tired of Nicolas reminding me she isn’t my mother, so I started calling her Laranissa.”

  “That must have hurt her,” I replied. “She loves all of you, and it must have felt like you were rejecting her.”

  “Yeah, it hurt her at first,” he admitted. “She never told me that, but I wasn’t an idiot. I saw her pain, and I felt bad later.”

  “Then why didn’t you start calling her Mom again?” I asked.

  “It was too late by the time I realized my mistake, and it felt strange,” he explained.

  “Have you ever met your birth mother?”

  He nodded. “She makes protection spells.”

  “You don’t want to talk about her,” I deduced.

  “It’s not that,” he insisted. “There’s not much to tell. When I met her, I tried talking to her, but she told me she didn’t want any kind of relationship with me.”

  “That must have hurt,” I said as I took his hand.

  “Not as much as you might think,” he admitted. “I was ten, and she was a stranger.”

  “And you had Laranissa,” I added, “You’re lucky to have her.”

  Dante sat cross-legged as he replied, “Yes, I am. You weren’t nearly as lucky.”

  I released a humorless bark of laughter. “Not in the stepmother department. Nidia has never been all that fond of me. She liked me even less after my half-brother was born.”

  “Because she was jealous of your position,” he remarked.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “Nidia always wanted more power. I’m sure she feels that if her son takes over as leader, she’ll have everything she’s ever wanted. With me out of the way, she probably already feels like her position has been elevated.”

  “Wouldn’t your father be angry with her for letting you get killed?” Dante asked. “She was supposed to be training you and keeping you safe, yet she returned with news of your death.”

  “I’m sure she had some elaborate story about how I did something foolish, and she tried to stop me,” I replied.

  “But your father can’t possibly believe that,” he insisted.

  “I’ve been known to be a bit impulsive and jump into dangerous situations.”