A Mongrel's Curse (Breed Matters Book 1)

by Paul C. Middleton

  "Sure. You know where I'll be for lunch and dinner for the next few days, while my shoulder heals. If it's bad enough, you can even send her to my house. As long as it isn't a damned Fury or Succubus. The last thing I need to be dealing with in my circumstance is a demonic seductress or one of Grandma's folk."

  "Sure, sure. Catch up for a beer later this week if you're still around?"

  "Yup. Give the missus my best."

  "No worries."

  Chapter 3

  It was two days later when she walked into the restaurant just after the lunch rush. I'd felt someone traveling down the street. A headache was pounding when I saw her walk through the restaurant entrance.

  There are a couple of talents that give me that reaction. When I saw how people in the restaurant reacting, combined with that cheerful smile on her face, with off-key singing, I knew the cause. She was a projective empath. Those bastards didn't just wear their emotions on their sleeves, they sent them out with a neon sign and insinuated them on the people around them. I was one of the few beings that wasn't subjected to the insinuation, but the assault on my mind gives me a headache. The stronger the power, the more powerful the headache.

  They also couldn't understand the concept of introverted. If this was gonna be my contract, the case was gonna be a bitch.

  I got Sinjay's attention and pointed to the bottle of 'Special' Vodka I'd paid for that was kept in the fridge. Grinning like a fool, he brought it and two shot glasses over. When Sinjay went back to the counter, I strained my hearing over the other sounds in the still-busy restaurant. Yup, she was asking for Thalias Jardine. My parents must have been insane to give me that name I swear. Mind you, they were probably mad to have me from the start. Both were mixed breeds already. I'm mixed to the point it's ridiculous.

  With a directing finger, Sinjay condemned me to at least talking to her. Not that I could blame him. He usually discreetly checked for a nod, but the obvious joy this woman was giving off made him simply agree.

  She walked over, and I downed a shot hoping to at least mix her emotions. No dice. The assault on my mind continued as hard as ever. So I took the time to look at her. Whatever she was, she was big. At least six foot four. She had Elfin ears, either from surgical implants or genetics. Given her broad-shouldered form, if it was genetic, she was a half-breed elf or pixie. Probably elf, given her height. However mixing human and supernatural genes could do some strange things. Her hair was long, red and silky, her skin with that ivory Irish complexion you still sometimes see. Her face was beyond beautiful, into the levels typically attained only by goddesses and Succubi. Idly, I thought she could make a fortune as a porn star.

  "Can you tone it down, please? Some of us are sensitive to that crap you know!" I growled at her. She frowned at me.

  "What are you talking about Mr. Jardine?" She asked, confusion on her face. Still no change in her volume, or the tone of her emotions.

  "Your projective empathy. It's giving me a headache. You don't need to shout it out as hard as you are." I hissed.

  Her eyes widened till they looked like saucers. "I've encountered no one outside my mother's family that has been able to name my ability, and never anyone who was actively hurt by it."

  "Well, now you have. Yippie. Lucky me. If you want to talk, and I'm assuming you do, you'll tone it the fuck down, or I'll fucking leave." I said. I shouldn't have to repeat myself, but when someone encounters something new, I give 'em a bit of slack.

  "Oh, of course, I'm so sorry." She blushed from the tips of her ears to the base of the neck, a bright burning red as only those of such a pale complexion can. Finally, I felt the pressure on my skull subside to a dull throb. I was now tossing up if it was worth helping her. If she could keep the ability at this level, probably if I charged ten percent more than my usual. I'd dealt with worse pain for longer. Between the ages of four and five came to mind. Growing that fast had been excruciating,

  "Why were you looking for me anyways? I know why the church wouldn't help you. They hate most half-breeds, half-elves almost as much half demons. But they felt they should send you to someone skilled at breaking curses rather than merely competent. They listen to the predicament anyone gets into, except full demons."

  She grimaced. I could still see she was projecting joy, from everyone around us, but her emotional palate was broader than that. "I have a problem." She said and promptly burst into tears. Still, everyone in the room was happy and cheerful, barely an eye turned our way. Damn, now I was downright curious. It's not my best trait, really. My curiosity always finds some way to get me into trouble.

  I took ten minutes to calm her down enough to talk. Eventually, she spoke to me.

  "I have two family curses that have been passed down to me," sobbing "one from my father," loud wracking sobbing "and one from my mother." More sobbing. Right. Need to ignore the sobbing if I'm gonna get anything useful out of this. "Dad was cursed to do one dark, despicable deed and do no good. He thought he'd escaped it until he got my mother pregnant but then realized the pregnancy was the dark deed, passing on the curse. Soon after I was conceived, he died. My mother's clan was cursed to feel and project only joy. As you can see, I only received half of that curse. I can only project..." The weeping at this point took over again.

  There was time to think over the matter. I'd need to research when both curses had been initiated, and that would mean travel. Probably some necromancy unless one of her ancestors on her father's side was a ghost. Then I looked up and saw people leaving, with seemingly amorous intent. These were mostly regulars by now, and every single one of them was leaving with someone other than their partner. One curse was working through the other, and fast! I secretly hoped my grandmother walked through the door at this point. All Furies were masters at both making and breaking curses.

  Luckily I had a basic counter curse handy, but I'd have to get her to my house. Soon. I muttered the words, took the top off the salt shaker, poured the salt into my hand, and blew it over the damsel in distress. She looked up at me, ready to throw the table at me, it seemed. Then I pointed to the crowd heading for the door. She must have realized what I was saying with that gesture as her face first turned white, then bright red again.

  "Come on. We'll work this out at my house. It might be the only place we can safely sort your problems out with a plan." I gestured to the rear exit and walked her out to my Ute.

  At least I had friendly brownies near my house, I thought to myself. Otherwise, the place would be a wreck.

  Chapter 4

  So, I get her back to my house with no trouble. The counter-curse should last at least the rest of the day, and I need two things - something for my headache and a shower. Now this is where I hit one of the first 'issues' with being such a mongrel. Human medicines? Not any way they'll help me. Some supes, sure. Weres for an example, they'll work, just not as long. Most human medicines are toxic to the Fae. Thankfully, I don't have their sensitivity to caffeine. Bleh. I like coffee, but give a pixie or a brownie coffee and they'll be bouncing off the walls, and not in a figurative way. I turn to my guest.

  "Can I get ya anything?" I asked as I rummaged around in the cupboard where I kept the alchemical concoctions that actually work for me. I always kept a small stock of painkillers. "Never got your name either."

  "A shower would be nice. My name is Fidelma" She said in an off-key sing-song voice. Her irritation at the salt was evident.

  "Your family didn't teach you the first thing 'bout magic, did they? It'll take time for that counter-curse to set, even though it's only designed to be temporary. You can shower once the salt's been on you for two hours." I went over to the stove and set its alarm for one hour fifty minutes.

  "So how did you get into the curse-breaking business? Furies in the family tree?" I turned, almost dropping the potion I'd taken out of the cupboard. Only one person outside of my family knew that. Sarge. And I knew he wouldn't tell anyone. You mention that there's a Fury colony in the area, BAD THINGS started to
happen. Furies, and their relatives, the Succubi and Erinyes, were amongst the most dangerous things to hunt. You don't disturb beings that can put a generational curse on you with a wink if you're smart. Hunters usually weren't that smart, and some Furies had bounties in the tens of millions on each of their heads.

  People don't like being cursed, after all.

  "How the Hell did you come up with that? I don't mention that to anyone!" I shouted at her.

  She shrank back in fear, trying to curl up into a ball. "I d-d-don't know. It just... just came to me."

  "You mention that to anyone, anyone at all and I swear, I'll find a way to make your life more uncomfortable. Your case ain't one of the easy ones. If you'd come to me with three inherited curses, it would be far easier."

  "What do you mean?" confusion and panic on her face

  I sighed. She really was clueless. "The rule of three is a funny thing. With curses, if you've inherited three, just one needs to be broken to remove 'em all."

  "Oh."

  "And you have two of the nastiest curses I've ever seen. I'd kill for you to have a third, but just adding one to you won't help because they have to have been inherited. Capiche?"

  She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about your family. It's understandable why you'd be so sensitive about your heritage, though. Not many people like Furies."

  I grunted. People only liked Furies when they wanted something from them. Someone cursed or some curse broke. Part of that was the fee, it was something either time consuming or precious to the person. Anything from a part of their soul to a family heirloom. The other part was that you could never tell when they would randomly curse someone. They could be quite testy.

  I was in better graces with my granny than usual right now. The Furies competed with the Rakshasa, and I'd taken down a Rakshasa noble last year. Revenge was a cut-throat business to be in.

  I grimaced internally. Well, she already knew my heritage, so no harm could come from taking her to Gran. Granny was powerful enough that no-one had dared put a bounty on her head. You really don't piss off one of the Three.

  I'd have to book an appointment, though. Kin or not. I sighed. Her assistant was cursed to orgasm on hearing a request that Gran would accept. He didn't view it as much of a curse, and it was a quick way of knowing you'd be put on the list, but it was rather disturbing. Of course, he'd gone to her wanting to curse a lover and ended up cursed himself.

  As I said, you need to be careful dealing with a Fury. In the irony of ironies, he'd ended up falling for my Gran. Hence he worked for her now. She liked his style and how he loved the curse she had placed on him.

  I will never understand my family.

  Once they got together, his lover ended up being cursed. Every child she's had has been a different type of supernatural. Got hard to explain, but that was one curse I wasn't willing to try to break. Last I heard she had a water nymph, a werewolf, a lamia, a pixie and an imp. I'd helped her foster the imp. The others were her problem.

  I don't cross Gran either.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, I remembered the potion in my hand. I drank it and looked her in the eye. "Since you know anyways, I guess this is a case I can take to Gran. If you understand that if she is in a bad mood, you'll probably get a temporary curse. She's not as vindictive as her sisters at least. More of a planner."

  Desperation flowed from her voice "Anything. I can't keep causing pain to those around me. Even if just the first one is lifted... my father's curse... it would be such a relief."

  I nodded, went to the phone and dialed up Gran's office. When the other end picked up, I heard Dan's voice "Alecto's Curses and Conjuring, Dan speaking."

  "Hey Gramps, Does Nana have an appointment free or time to squeeze me in tomorrow?"

  I heard a groan of pleasure over the phone and a sigh. "I'll take that as a yes. When should I turn up with my client?" Dan wasn't a bad sort. If he knew I was bringing a client, then Gramps wouldn't ask me for breakfast. Gran had a penchant for poisons, and I preferred not to have my clients ill - or dead.

  "She has the whole day clear. With all the doom and gloom around the world, curses seem to be unfashionable. She's been considering cursing all the religious fanatics for funsies, as she put it. The fallout might be more than she expects and wants. We'll see. If she sees a way to blame the curse on someone else, I'm sure she'll do it. She's annoyed that someone already cursed the presidential election in the US this year. She cursed the federal election here in Oz first, though." He said cheerfully. "See you around ten?"

  "Okay, I'll see you then."

  "Be nice and bring her a gift, son. She's a bit down that her services aren't as popular as they used to be."

  "I have just the thing. See you tomorrow."

  The teeth from that Rakshasa were somewhere. I'd probably find them on the counter in the morning. Brownies were so helpful that way.

  "Well, we have the rest of today. Anything you want to do while your curses are suppressed?"

  Her eyes lit up "Can I use your kitchen? I haven't been able to cook since the curse took hold and I so enjoy it." The happiness on her face at the thought made her seem to glow.

  "Umm, sure. We might need to get supplies. How about you look through the pantries and figure out what we'll need. I need a shower. Oh and then I need to explain a couple of my personal... peculiarities." I said.

  Smiling and humming off key, she headed to the kitchen, and I headed for the shower.

  Chapter 5

  When I got out of the shower, wonderful odors were coming from the kitchen. It smelt like a cake and some sort of fruit pie. I had stewed apples a few days ago for an apple crumble, but I didn't know there were the makings of cake in my cupboards.

  I walked into the kitchen to see a fresh apple pie and a pair of sponge cakes on the bench. Fidelma was walking around the kitchen singing 'By the Waters of Babylon' off key. She had flour and dough on her hands and over her red blouse, but the smile on her face lit up the room. It was one of those few times I'd felt my heart lighten. I'd done well here, even if only temporary.

  When Fidelma saw me, she let out a high-pitched squeak of joy and ran up to me, throwing her hands around me. "Thank you so much! This is the first time I have cooked for someone and not ruined it since I was fifteen." She covered my face in kisses, lifted me off my feet and spun me around. I mentioned she was a tall, broad-shouldered woman, right?

  There was something about it that felt good. Like everything might not hang on me. When she put me down, I moved towards the apple pie. She smacked my hands away. "That's for desert. Come on, you said we need to go shopping. May as well get that done so I can enjoy my shower." I nodded, grabbed a piece of paper and left a note for the Brownies. I couldn't stop them from cleaning, but I could ask them to find the teeth.

  First, we stopped at her temporary residence. She was staying in one of the trailer parks and had chosen one of the rental trailers in a relatively secluded spot. Smart. If her curse was powerful, it still needed people to be near affect them. She could have become a hermit in the middle of nowhere. Except if it was a generational curse it would drive her to have at least one kid at some point.

  I was a little shocked at how much food she bought at the shops. I mean, Fidelma was a big girl, I'm not saying she couldn't eat as much as she wanted. But even given that, she'd bought a family of eight's food for at least a week. I'm not joking.

  I said to her "You could feed a platoon of troops for more'n a day with all that."

  She grinned at him "I like to cook for others. I plan on taking as much advantage of that as I can. Besides, your freezer was empty. I figured I could keep cooking until it was filled with pre-prepared meals, so I wasn't a strain on you." She put one arm around my shoulder. She bent down and whispered softly in my ear. "I miss being able to be nice."

  It sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn't used to being the subject of someone's attention before they had at least gotten their curse broken. That type of relat
ionship tended to be short-lived, for good reason. After all, the people suddenly free of a curse needed to move on and rebuild.

  I couldn't read her intentions. I suspect because I preferred Imps as friends-with-benefits. All they wanted was some fun and some mischief. I was also completely unused to her extreme emotional displays. I mostly encountered one extreme emotion - despair. By the time that someone reached me they were hanging on to their sanity by their fingernails. Exposure to the supernatural wasn't kind to most humans.

  Certain cultures coped better than others, Indians and native cultures the best, all the way down to Corporate management at the worst. Breaking a curse on a corporate bigwig had on more than one occasion shattered their sanity. They couldn't deal with something outside their 'Real World'. Of course, that world was further from the 'real world' than most people ever saw.

  I couldn't tell if she was affectionate, or just grateful. It kept my mind in a whirl as we drove back. Thoughts pummeled me. I'd only approached the quirky or the unloved before, as with my condition, it was very much a hit and miss affair. She was so far above my usual standards in every way. She was statuesque, graceful, and absolutely gorgeous. And she had not one, but two dangerous curses hanging over her. Not only that, I'd always had to chase before. This time, she seemed to be chasing me. That worried me.

  I was safer with Imps. At least there wasn't something innately dangerous about them. I mean their pranks could hurt someone, sure. They followed the philosophy of 'I get a papercut, it's a tragedy, you fall down a manhole and die... Best. Joke. Ever.' But they never set out to kill someone with their pranks. Hurt, sometimes yes. Kill, never.