The Cursed Witch: A Paranormal Enemies to Lovers (Nightcaster Chronicles Book 1)

by R. L. Perez

  Rushing forward, I got down on all fours and lay on the ground, just as I had when I’d arrived. I knew I was being ridiculous, but I didn’t care. I had to get home. Now.

  I took a deep breath, waiting for the familiar thrum of magic. When nothing happened, I wiggled my fingers and murmured,

  “Magic above and powers that roam

  Surround me here, and bring me home.”

  Magic crackled from my fingers, and a blue glow emanated from my hands. But then it flickered and faded like a burnt-out light bulb.

  “No,” I whispered. I closed my eyes and tried again.

  “I call on magic within my soul,

  Carry me home and make me whole.”

  Still nothing.

  I swore and spat another spell.

  “Magia rota, sana y devuélveme

  Llévame a casa a dos mil veinte.”

  Again, nothing happened.

  A frustrated scream tore against my throat. I lifted my hands to my forehead and tugged at my hair, trying to ignore the mounting panic within me.

  Have to get out. Now.

  I sucked in a breath and bolted, racing down hallways and passing stunned servants until I finally found a giant set of oak doors.

  Yes! The way out.

  I reached for the doors, but a servant stepped toward me.

  “May I help you, my lady?” he asked in Spanish.

  “I have to get out of here,” I muttered, trying to sidestep him. But he continued to block my exit.

  “I’m afraid His Excellency has strict orders for the guests to—”

  “I don’t give a damn!” I roared, clenching my fingers into fists. “Either step aside, or I will fight you.”

  The servant stared me down, his dark eyes shifting from apathy to genuine fear. He swallowed and quietly shuffled out of my way.

  I threw open the doors, and a cool evening breeze rippled over me. Just a gulp of fresh air was enough to soothe the hysteria in my mind.

  I can do this. I can find a way out of here and get back home.

  Voices echoed behind me. I surged forward, slamming the doors shut. Then, I sprinted down a massive set of concrete steps. The faint light of the moon in the sky illuminated the path before me. Neatly trimmed hedges lined the stairs, and a plethora of floral scents flooded my nose, though it was too dark to make out any flowers.

  I flew down the steps. My breaths came in sharp wheezes, and a sheen of sweat formed on my brow despite the chill in the air.

  When I reached the bottom, I stopped short. A lush forest surrounded a narrow dirt road, but something tickled the air. Something magical.

  Slowly, I moved forward, following the scent. It crackled and shifted in the air like it was alive.

  I took another step, and something invisible slammed into me. I bounced backward and almost fell over. Stumbling back a few steps, I righted myself and rubbed my throbbing head.

  What the hell was that?

  A familiar smell tickled the air, and it took me a moment to place it. Ash, onions, and seaweed. It smelled the same as the portal I’d fallen through.

  Frowning, I inched forward again, this time extending my hand. My fingers met something soft and cool that fluttered against my skin like a curtain. When I touched it, a faint green light flashed, zapping my fingers as if I’d been electrocuted.

  I jumped and jerked away, shaking my hand to rid myself of the numbness.

  I rubbed my forehead as the panic started to overwhelm me again. “Why can’t I get out of here?”

  “Because of my wards,” rumbled a voice from behind me.

  I looked over my shoulder to find the Count standing there watching me. His eyes glinted with interest. Behind him, I noticed Riker and a few of the others.

  “Let me out,” I growled, glaring at him. “You can’t keep me here like a prisoner.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t release you until we’ve conducted a thorough assessment of your abilities,” the Count said quietly. “You see, the guests in my home often pose a threat to others. So, it isn’t safe to simply allow you to run amok in the city.”

  My fists shook, and I stared hard at him.

  “Miss Gerrick,” the Count said, stepping toward me. “I believe it’s time we spoke in private so I can explain the situation to you.”

  I briefly considered trying to fight him, but between the other teenagers behind him and the host of servants in the castle, I knew I was outnumbered.

  Begrudgingly, I followed the Count back inside the castle and into a vast library with shelves climbing higher than my house in Miami. We sat across from each other in grand armchairs next to a crackling fire. I wrung my hands together on my lap, itching to tidy something. With these bookshelves surrounding me, all I wanted to do was spend a day reorganizing them. Oh, the satisfaction that would give me.

  “So, Miss Gerrick,” the Count said, rubbing his bearded chin. “You were trying to return home?”

  “I can speak Spanish, if that’s easier for you.”

  The Count smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I am quite comfortable speaking English. Don’t trouble yourself.”

  I sighed and slumped back in the chair. “Yes, I was trying to leave.”

  “I fear I must inform you that that’s impossible.”

  I stilled. “Why?”

  The Count stared pensively into the fire for a moment before responding. “What do you know of Lilith’s curse?”

  My blood ran cold. “I know she is said to possess a witch and harness her powers to summon a demonic monster.”

  The Count chuckled, sounding impressed. “Well then, you know much more than my other pupils did when they arrived. You see, in 1735, a monster was unleashed upon the province of Segovia, slaughtering thousands. My magical comrades and I did everything we could to prevent the destruction, but we were too late. One of us, a powerful dark warlock, cast a wild and uncontrollable spell that turned into a curse. He wanted to bring back those who were lost, but he didn’t word the curse carefully enough. Instead, his magic trapped the entire province in a sort of . . . ‘time loop,’ as Mr. Wilkinson would put it. The same year repeats over and over again. None of us can leave the province. At the end of every year, the beast attacks and we can do nothing to stop it. Then, the year resets again, and everything is restored to what it was before. We are trapped here, forever preserved in time as we relive the same year again. And again.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “A time loop. Really.” And all because of Lilith’s curse? This can’t be a coincidence. Someone is playing a joke on me.

  The Count shook his head, smirking. “I realize how truly inconceivable this all sounds.”

  “What about the rest of the world—outside of Segovia? Are they frozen too?”

  “No.”

  My brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

  “We have been to the barrier separating the province from the outside world. We can see through it, though no one can see us.”

  “And you can’t get through it? You don’t have a Teleporter who can Jump you through it?”

  The Count wrinkled his nose, no doubt offended by the offensive term ‘Jump.’ “No. There are no Teleporters here, otherwise I would’ve had one Teleport us to the other side of the barrier long ago.”

  “And your wards—”

  “They are there to protect the city from any, ah, accidents my guests might cause.”

  “But if the year resets, won’t the civilians just forget whatever happened?”

  “Yes, but each year I’m hopeful we can find a way to break this curse. When we do, everyone in the city will keep their memories. It is a risk I’m unwilling to take.”

  I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow. “So, the Council just sent me into a portal through time to a place that was frozen in the year 1735?”

  “The Councils across time are not aware of the situation. We have no way to communicate our problem to them, and even if we could, we aren’t sure the message would get through th
e barriers of the curse.”

  “Why is there even a portal to begin with? Can’t someone close it to stop people from coming here?”

  “We’ve tried. When I first established this as a refuge for injured casters, I proclaimed it as a rehabilitation center, welcoming any who needed assistance with their magic. I’m not sure how that proclamation traveled through years and even centuries, but it seems that even in your time, the Council still sees this as a refuge for those with magical maladies.”

  “What about the Council here? Riker said you founded them. Did you tell them of this place?”

  “Of course I did.”

  I scoffed, letting my arms fall on my lap. “That was a stupid move. They’ve obviously passed on the information for generations. That’s how the word was spreading.”

  The Count’s eyes tightened. “I assure you that had I known we would be cursed, I never would have shared the information.”

  “So, who designed this portal in the first place?”

  The Count straightened in his chair. “I did. But no matter what spell I attempt, I have no way of accessing the portal on this end while we are cursed.”

  I remembered the familiar smells of the portal and the wards. It made sense—if the Count created both, they would smell like his magic.

  “Can’t someone reverse the curse and free you?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately, the dark warlock who cast it wasn’t in his right mind. He wrote the spell himself. It would be impossible for us to reverse it without knowing the exact words he used, and he is dead.”

  “Mother of Lilith.” I ran a hand through my hair and laughed without humor. “This is a real sick prank you’re pulling on me, Your Excellency.”

  “I assure you, it is not a prank.” He fixed a stony stare on me.

  A small part of me wanted to wither under his scrutiny, but I firmly held his gaze. “And you all just carry on here like normal then? Training these inept and broken witches and warlocks?”

  The Count lifted his hands. “What else am I to do?”

  My hands curled into fists on the arms of my chair. “So, there is no way for me to get home? No way out of here whatsoever?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  The panic rushed inside me like a dam had burst. I can’t get home. I can’t leave. Mom might already be freaking out because I hadn’t contacted her yet.

  My palms started to sweat. I had to move. I had to do something.

  I jumped up from my seat and approached the nearest bookshelf, pulling out several books at a time. I took a moment to inspect each one—some were in Greek or Latin, so I focused on the color instead. Green books over here. Blue over there. This one’s bluish green. Yes, right there.

  “What in Lilith’s name are you doing?” the Count asked.

  I just shushed him and continued reorganizing. When I’d created an aesthetically pleasing shelf of rainbow books, I stood back to admire my work. My heart rate settled into a steady rhythm, and my body felt less restless.

  I took a deep breath and slowly sat back down again, meeting the Count’s bewildered stare.

  “It’s how I cope with stress,” I snapped. “It’s either that or kickboxing, but I don’t imagine you’d like me doing that in your precious castle.”

  The Count wrinkled his nose. “No, I would not.”

  I blew out a breath through my lips, puffing out my cheeks. “So, what am I supposed to do? You expect me to just sit around and hope this curse will end on its own?”

  “Of course not,” the Count said coldly. “I have a coven working tirelessly, trying to find a way to end this dark creature that emerges every year. We believe that, through the monster’s demise, the curse will be broken, since the dark warlock’s magic is tethered to the creature.”

  I stilled, staring hard at the flames in the fireplace. “And what of . . . this cursed witch? The one who summoned the creature in the first place?”

  The Count scoffed, waving a hand. “She is an abomination. A crime against nature. She doesn’t deserve to live. When the creature dies, so shall she. Lilith’s power will be cut off and she will be sent back to the underworld.”

  A lump formed in my throat. An abomination. A crime against nature.

  The Count eyed me, his expression calculating. “I heard you utter those spells earlier. You’re quite talented at wordsmithing. I could use your help in our endeavor to break the curse.”

  I swallowed. “Help? What am I supposed to do about it?”

  The Count leaned forward. “First and foremost, I must know why you’re here. Why did your Council send you?”

  I froze, my brain working furiously. I couldn’t tell him I was suspected of being Lilith’s cursed witch. He would murder me on the spot.

  Instead, I took a breath and said, “My powers aren’t working. I’m an Elemental, and they were working fine until about five years ago. Then they just flickered and . . . died. I haven’t been able to access them since.”

  “Hmm.” The Count stroked his chin again. “Fascinating. I’ve never heard of such a problem. And you are quite certain your gifts were of an elemental nature?”

  I nodded, dropping my gaze. “Yes, of course.”

  “I see.” He dropped his hand. “Well, a few examinations and trainings should sort you out. Several of my pupils have already greatly improved, so much so they are able to help me in my efforts to protect this city and restore the timeline. You, of course, must remain here in the castle and abide by our rules.” He wrinkled his nose, his eyes roving up and down my body. “Please note that we adhere to the customs of this time period and you must blend in if you are to remain here.”

  I grimaced. Just imagining having to wear one of those frilly dresses made me feel nauseous. I shifted in my chair. “Fine.”

  The Count’s eyes sharpened. “So, you’ll assist me?”

  I waved a hand vaguely. “Sure, I guess. I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

  The Count smirked, sitting back in his chair. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

  8

  Brielle

  DESPITE MY BEGRUDGING acceptance of my circumstances, I couldn’t help but check my cell phone when I got back to my room that night.

  Still no service.

  Agony laced through my chest, bitter and all-consuming. Emotions choked my throat as I pulled up my photos and scrolled through pictures of Angel, my parents, and a few friends from school.

  I would never see any of them again.

  I shut my eyes against the onslaught of panic threatening to drown me.

  I can do this. I can get out of here if I figure out how to break this curse.

  As the Count said, I was excellent at wordsmithing. I’d spent my whole life writing spells because it was all I could do.

  If I could handle fighting demons on my own, then I could handle this too.

  A light knock rapped at the door.

  I cleared my throat and pocketed my phone. “Come in.”

  Maria entered, holding a stack of blankets and a long metal object with a pan attached to the end. A bedpan maybe?

  My knowledge of the eighteenth century was woefully lacking.

  “Ready to undress, my lady?” Maria asked, setting the pile of blankets down on the night table.

  I crossed my arms and eyed the bedpan-looking thing. “Am I . . . do I need to pee in that?”

  Maria’s eyes widened, and a blush bloomed across her face. “Oh no, my lady. This is a warming pan. To ward off the chill in the winter.”

  “Winter?” I frowned. My birthday was September 7, which was the day I’d left. “What—what month is it?”

  “January, my lady.”

  I stared vacantly at the wall just behind Maria, trying to focus on breathing.

  “Pupils always arrive when the year resets,” Maria went on, placing the warming pan into the fireplace.

  “But—but it was September when I left.”

  Maria nodded. “No one is quite sure how
it works, my lady. A caster steps through the portal, and time speeds up to arrive precisely at this time.”

  I shook my head. This is insane. Absolutely insane. I sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing my leg up and down. “So, uh, where exactly do I . . . do my business?”

  Maria looked at me, the corners of her mouth pulling into a smile. “The chamber pot, my lady.” She gestured to what looked like an ornate pot for plants in the corner of the room. “If you like, I can come back in a few minutes and empty it for you. So you don’t have to smell it as you sleep.”

  My face burned, and I nodded. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  Maria offered a kind smile and set the handle of the warming pan down on the floor. She curtsied and left the room.

  I sighed and undressed before squatting and doing my business. Instead of putting my jeans back on, I slipped on a pair of sweats from my bag and climbed into bed before Maria returned.

  She stopped short when she saw me in the bed. “Are you undressed, my lady?”

  I nodded.

  Maria opened and closed her mouth. “Won’t you need my assistance?”

  I smiled. “Not tonight. I’m still adjusting. I know the Count has his rules, but can you let it slide just this once? I’m a little overwhelmed.”

  Maria’s eyes filled with sympathy, and she smiled again. “Of course, my lady.”

  Using the tongs by the fireplace, Maria placed several coals into the warming pan. Then, she slid the pan under the sheets just past my feet. Heat tickled the tips of my toes, and I sighed with contentment.

  Maria bustled about for a few more minutes, snuffing candles and tending to the dying fire. Then, she turned to face me and curtsied again. “I’ll be back in the morning. Sleep well, my lady.”

  I thanked her before she left. The door closed, and silence pressed in on me, along with the wintry chill. Spain had always struck me as a hot place like Miami, but this was colder than any of our winters. I rolled a little to one side, then the other, pulling the blankets more snugly around my body and pressing my toes into the warm sheets.

  THE NEXT MORNING, I woke with aches in my body from sleeping in an unfamiliar bed. My head throbbed from sleep deprivation. I’d tossed and turned, my head swarming with thoughts and worries well into the night.