Casually Cursed

by Kimberly Frost

  “Is there anyone you won’t defend?” she asked with a smirk. “I felt it halfway around the world. All those feelings! It’s exhausting. But it’s also—”

  “Engaged!” Aunt Mel cried, making both Kismet and me jerk our heads in her direction.

  I flushed as Edie saluted me with her glass. I frowned at her and then gave Aunt Mel a sheepish look. “It happened kind of unexpectedly, but yep. I’m gonna get married again.”

  Melanie sank down onto the couch. “He’s really good-looking, Tammy Jo. And charming, but you know he’s—”

  “Yes, a Lyons. I’m aware. It wasn’t my idea to get so involved with him, but love happens. Like a hurricane—”

  “And other disasters,” Edie said dryly. “Or like a dreaded disease, where this family’s concerned.”

  “Not a dreaded disease! But it’s true, love’s kinda like a—what do you call it?—an affliction. There’s no vaccine against it, and no cure for it.” I shrugged with a small smile. “When you’re completely in its grip and there’s a marriage proposal, you gotta say yes.”

  “And suffer the consequences,” Edie said.

  I frowned at her, but nodded. “Yep. Maybe.” There was a family prophecy that warned us not to get involved with a Lyons. “But I’m pretty sure the prophecy’s already played out. Ninety to ninety-five percent sure.”

  “Didn’t you nearly fail every math class you ever had?” Edie asked, mock curious.

  I wanted to throttle her. Having a person know all your business when you’re trying to argue something is a real problem.

  “Bryn won’t betray me on purpose. If he does it by accident, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “If you survive,” Edie said, mixing herself another drink. “He’s nearly gotten you killed—”

  “Wrong! I’ve nearly gotten him killed. Lots. He’s saved my life. More than once.”

  Melanie clasped her hands together so tight her nails indented the skin, whitening it. “I chose the wrong man plenty of times, but never anyone from the list.” She glanced up. “You met Incendio. You know that Marlee can’t come home and might be in deadly trouble because she’s tied herself to the wrong person. And those weren’t even names with a prophecy of disaster attached. How much worse will your consequences be? Can’t you learn from our mistakes?”

  “Apparently not,” I said with a shrug.

  “Why should you rush into marrying him? Is he pressuring you?”

  He had, yes. But I’d liked his pressuring me. I loved his earnest romantic side as much as his clever sarcastic side. “We both decided. We fell in love, and we can’t stand to be apart too much, so it just makes sense. I’m not fixing to shack up with him, am I? You know what kind of gossip that would lead to.” I’d already been married and divorced, and I was only twenty-three years old. That had set plenty of tongues to wagging. It was already a big enough shock for most people to see me moving on from one of the town’s favorite sons. My ex, Zach, had been a much-beloved high school football star who’d gone on to play for the University of Texas. A terrible knee injury had ended his football career, so we’d come home to Duvall, where he became a sheriff’s deputy who always helped anyone who needed it.

  Bryn Lyons, on the other hand, was a lawyer, so of course anyone would have reservations about trusting him. Plus, he’d gone to school on the East Coast, was rich, and had originally come from a foreign country. That was a lot of different for a small town to swallow. But he’d been committed to a life in Duvall, and he’d put his time and money into helping the town develop into something even better than it had started out. He had people’s respect for sure. They just didn’t know him as well as they knew Zach. When you’re born in a place and all your people live there . . . well, you’re part of the town and it’s part of you. With Bryn, there was always a nagging feeling that he might take off for somewhere else. He already had an office and a law practice in Dallas as well as Duvall. And people probably thought Dallas suited Bryn better. That place was as shiny and cosmopolitan as he was. But Duvall had two things that Bryn wanted: A magical tor. And me.

  Of course, we would be able to settle down in town and build a life together only if I could make it back from the Never . . . assuming that I actually had to go.

  “Kismet, did our dad help you escape the Never?”

  Her face went blank, as if she were playing poker. She could’ve been holding a full house or nothing at all by that expression.

  “C’mon. Tell me the truth.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It was owed to me. Whatever effort he made was the least he could do. For so long he did nothing to help me.”

  “And why do you think he decided to help you now?”

  She pursed her lips and then shrugged.

  “Can’t you guess?” I asked. “I bet Momma told him to. Don’t you think? She saw you were unhappy, and she told him to help you get out even if they got caught. Even if it risked their own lives. Don’t you think?” I asked.

  She swallowed. “No, I don’t think so. Whatever made him do it, it wasn’t our mother. She doesn’t care about me.”

  I clucked my tongue. “How can you say that?”

  “I can say it easily, since I’m just repeating what she said.”

  “She would never have said that.”

  “She did. I heard her with my own ears,” Kismet said bitterly. “I don’t care. She’s nothing to me. Just as I’m nothing to her. And if she’s been blamed for my escape, well, she’ll have to talk her own way out of it.”

  My jaw dropped, Aunt Mel gasped, and Edie rolled her eyes.

  “This one is going to take some work,” Edie murmured. “Melanie, give me Lenore’s locket.”

  Aunt Mel put a hand over the front of her shirt, pressing the locket underneath. She paused for a moment and then lifted the chain. The antique locket that Edie’s soul had been linked to from the time of her death in the 1920s appeared as Aunt Mel raised the locket over her head. She held it out and Edie took it. She smiled, admiring it.

  “My twin sister wore this locket every day. We were together. Always. Not even death could separate us. That’s blood and loyalty,” Edie announced.

  Kismet leaned over Edie’s shoulder to get a better look at the necklace. “That design was an interesting choice,” Kismet said.

  Edie arched a brow, glancing at the starburst pattern of diamonds on the front. “In what way interesting?” Edie asked.

  “Front door,” Kismet said. She flipped the locket over in Edie’s palm. The smooth gold of the back was without a pattern. “Not there. On the inside?”

  “What?” Edie asked.

  “Open it.”

  The hinge of the locket had grown stiff over the years, and we’d always hesitated to oil it for fear of damaging the pictures inside.

  Kismet reached over and tried to force it open. When it didn’t budge, Kis pulled out a pin and started to jam it in, but Edie pulled the locket to her chest and closed her hands around it. “No. I’ll do it. Or a jeweler will.”

  “Is there a pattern on the inside?”

  “There are pictures inside. One of me and one of my sister.”

  “Under the pictures?”

  “I don’t remember. If I ever knew. The pictures were already inside when Lenore showed it to me. She gave me a matching locket. Mine was buried with my body.”

  “I never knew that,” I said.

  Edie shrugged. “There was no magic attached to mine, but I like that a little piece of Lenore’s creativity and her image were buried with me. Together forever. Twins.”

  Kismet glanced at me. “Aboveground and below. Twins together, not allowing anyone to come between them. What do you think of that?”

  “Sisters should be close,” I said.

  “Closer to each other than anyone else? Even than a parent? Or a lover?”<
br />
  “Um, I don’t think there’s a reason to rank people by how much you love them. You can love lots of people.”

  “But someone has to be loved the most.”

  My phone chimed, telling me I had a text message from Bryn. Speaking of people I loved like crazy. I snatched the phone from the counter and opened the message.

  How’s it going?

  I’d called Bryn earlier to tell him about my visitors and the possibility that I’d be going to the land of the faeries. He was understandably impatient to know what was going on. So was I, actually.

  We both had concerns about my going into the Never, and not just because faeries were dangerous creatures. In the past, when my witch magic had been drained away by spells and I’d become more fully fae, I’d changed. My conscience—and my humanity, I guessed—had faded away, too. I’d become numb to my feelings and memories. Bryn loved me for my regular Tammy Jo self, who cared a lot about the town and everyone in it, especially him. He worried that one day I might change into full faery and not change back. I’d be lost to him then.

  I didn’t think that could ever happen while I lived in Duvall. I loved it too much. But inside the Never, who knew? I recognized the hard edges that I’d felt as a full fae in Kismet. A coolness emanated from her when she faced off with Crux. What if I entered the Never and stopped caring about rescuing Momma? I wouldn’t do anyone any good if my heart turned to stone in my chest.

  Glancing down at my phone, I thought, That’s why I need Bryn. Once I’d stood on a faery path in full fae consciousness, and all I’d wanted in the world was to follow that path into the Never. Bryn, who’d been standing off the path, had reached out to me. Wanting him was the only thing that had drawn me back to the human world.

  The corners of my mouth tipped down as I typed, Things here sure are a mess. Come over if you want. I could use the help.

  4

  BRYN ARRIVED WEARING trousers as black as his hair and a red shirt that made the blue of his eyes even more vibrant. For a moment I just stared at him, because he has the ability to stun a person with his good looks. Then I remembered that I was going to marry him and really needed to get over those looks, or who would keep him in line? Not that Bryn’s the kind of guy who takes orders. But sometimes, when he gets ruthless with his enemies, he needs me to remind him not to go overboard. Just because someone tries to kill us doesn’t mean they’re all bad. And the good guys, which we are, can’t go hog wild with revenge if they want to hold on to their white hats.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Aunt Mel stood in the foyer, waiting to greet Bryn. Behind her, Edie opened drawers in the foyer chest, searching it.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked Edie as Aunt Melanie stepped forward.

  “Hi, Bryn. Merry Christmas,” Aunt Mel said. She and Bryn exchanged a hug. “I’m surprised about the engagement. And worried. I hope you guys won’t rush the wedding. . . .”

  He remained silent.

  “Getting married or even falling in love with you could be putting our girl at major risk. You know that, right?”

  Being a good lawyer, Bryn never changed his expression. He wouldn’t let her bait him into agreeing to a long engagement.

  “You love each other so much there’s nothing to do except get married?” Mel asked, raising her brows in question. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely sure,” Bryn said.

  Melanie sighed and shrugged. “All right. Then I’m behind you.”

  Edie glanced up. “I’m behind you, too, Lyons. With a club and bad intentions. Watch your back,” she said in a saccharine whisper. Returning to her search of the chest, she added, “I’m looking for the extra bottles Marlee used to keep in here. Is there really not a single drop of brandy or cognac left in this house? For pity’s sake, Melanie.”

  “I used up the brandy in the brandy Alexanders,” I said.

  “Well, what am I supposed to do for a sidecar then? Go to the Paris Ritz, where it was invented? We’ve got to keep this house better stocked. It’s beyond the pale.”

  “Why do you need brandy?” I scoffed. “You’re drinking gin and tonics.”

  “We’re out of gin. There was only a splash left.”

  “There was more than a splash.”

  “Well, it went down like a splash,” Edie said. “And I haven’t had a sidecar since the week before I died. Don’t you think ninety years is long enough to wait?”

  “Ninety years isn’t very long,” Crux said, appearing at the end of the hall.

  “Fae,” Bryn said, narrowing his cobalt eyes. “Crux, I presume.”

  Crux inclined his head, saying, “Wizard.” Crux stretched. “You’re not wanted here. You should retrieve your rings and go.”

  I glanced at the canary-yellow diamond solitaire that sat big as an egg on my left ring finger. And the magical band on my right middle finger. Both were from Bryn, symbols of our romantic and magical connections.

  Bryn’s gaze assessed Crux for several long moments. Crux leaned against the wall.

  “Don’t tax your brain, wizard. Even full of sweetened spirits, I could kill you with a motion so fast and smooth that the curtains would barely sway.”

  I glanced at the sheers hanging over the window next to Crux.

  Crux added a couple words I didn’t know. It sounded like Gaelic, and Bryn who speaks lots of languages, flicked his gaze past Crux.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “He said, ‘Come out, deadly lovely.’ I presume he wasn’t talking to me.”

  I saw the fingertips then. It was all that showed of Kismet, and they twitched, beckoning me. I took Bryn’s hand so that our rings connected. He wore a band on his left middle finger that reacted to the one on my right hand. Magic, which already flowed between us, spiked.

  Kismet’s face appeared then, her expression curious. She stared at Bryn for several long moments and he stared back.

  “Hello,” he said. “I’m Bryn. Tamara’s fiancé.”

  Kismet’s gaze flicked to my face. She whispered something, also in that foreign language.

  “Yes,” Bryn said, pleased. “I’m the love of her life. And she’s mine.”

  Kismet’s eyes never left mine. “You won’t want to go without him. So wherever we go, he can come.”

  “I tire of this,” Crux said. “The queen extended no invitation to this wizard, and there is nothing of his in the Never. He’s not welcome.”

  “I’m—” I began, but Crux cut me off.

  “No,” he said with finality. “A man can’t claim from the human world that which did not belong to it. You’re fae.”

  Bryn was part fae himself, but we sure weren’t going to admit that to Crux.

  “If it will complicate things, I won’t travel into the Never with her,” Bryn said, lying to Crux so smoothly that for a second I was shocked that he’d changed his mind about letting me go alone. Lawyers! They’re trickier than faeries sometimes.

  “But Tamara’s safety is important to me,” Bryn said. “She told me her sister’s not convinced they should go. Let me listen to Kismet’s reservations. Because if Tamara is traveling underhill without me, I want her sister with her.”

  I glanced at Kis, who was eyeing Bryn suspiciously. Exactly, I thought. What was Bryn up to?

  I gave Kis a reassuring smile and nod, knowing that whatever Bryn did, it would be in the interest of trying to protect us.

  Maybe he wanted to avoid a conflict with Crux so that he could get close enough to see his weaknesses? If so, that was a good idea. Except I wasn’t sure that Crux had a lot of weaknesses. Even if Bryn had an iron weapon, Bryn couldn’t take Crux in a hand-to-hand fight. Faeries can move like lightning. At their fastest, you can’t catch them unless they want you to. But I presumed Bryn knew this. He wouldn’t try any straightforward attack. Bryn was strategy . . . and magic. Bryn
could wield power like a weapon. Would witch magic be strong enough to stop a faery knight’s arrow? If the answer was no, I didn’t want to find out.

  Crux said nothing. He watched Bryn, and I wondered whether he was wondering the same things I was. Then Crux shrugged.

  “By sunrise we’ll be under way, or I’ll send word that you’re stalling. Your resistance is an insult to the queen’s offered hospitality, and I’ll suggest that your mother should pay the price for your insolence.”

  “He’s lying,” Kismet said.

  Crux narrowed his eyes. “Test me. I’ll let you hear the message I give to the nymph.”

  Kismet frowned.

  “I’m in earnest. You’ll both come, or there will be blood in payment.”

  All Crux’s earlier cheer was gone. In his darkened mood, even his golden glow seemed burnished to bronze. I recognized this side of him. He’d used a rose stem as a switch on my back for defying him. The wounds had healed quickly, but not the nastiness of the attack.

  “Let’s sit and talk,” I said. “One of us is better than none. If Momma’s in trouble, I’ll go with you. The queen doesn’t know yet that you found Kismet, does she? You can take me and then say you still have more looking to do.”

  “No!” Kismet said. “She could keep you prisoner. Don’t you see? You can’t go in alone. You won’t know how to manage in there.”

  “But it’s the best we can do.”

  “I won’t let you go alone,” Kismet said, her expression fierce. I didn’t know if that meant that she was promising to go with me or promising to stop me from going.

  “Kismet, if the queen makes a promise that she won’t punish you for leaving, would you return home willingly?” Crux asked.

  “She won’t make that promise,” Kismet said. “No defiance goes unpunished.”

  “If she promises, would you come?”

  The silence seemed to stretch to oblivion. Then Kismet said, “Aye. If she makes that promise, I’ll come.”

  Crux nodded. “Consider that her promise has been given.”

  Kismet narrowed her eyes.

  “Don’t think we’ll fall for that!” I exclaimed.