by K Loraine
“What the hell?” I ask the empty room.
I try again. Nothing. Not even a spark. I’ve felt off since the, but I didn’t think I was this off. “Dammit.”
Weaving my hair into a long braid over one shoulder, I worry my lower lip with my teeth. This isn’t good. I’m cursed. I have no magic. And I’m now a powerless liability for this coven. I let out a huge sigh, staring up at a crack in the ceiling.
“Why is this happening?” I know I’m whining, but God in Heaven, this has been one hell of a few days.
Taking a deep breath, I steady myself and take the first step toward facing this head on.
The four witches lock their attention on me the instant my foot hits the hardwood floor of the landing.
Dex, Persephone, Dottie, and Opal. All powerful. All afraid. This was Gran’s original coven. The Salem witches have been here for centuries, and Persephone has been trying to get us back with them since before I was born.
Persephone stands, and the rest follow. She’s always been the leader, even when Gran was alive. Though Gran had the most power, Persephone is a born coven leader.
“Come to the center of our circle, dear one.” Her voice is a smooth, smoky alto, and I can do nothing but obey. “Tell us what you felt when the curse was set upon you.”
I relay my headache, my disorientation, and of course, the teleportation straight to Salem, but I leave out the part where an unknown knight in shining armor saved me. That is for me and me alone.
“Close your eyes. We are going to filter through your aura now. It won’t be pleasant.”
My lids drop, darkness filtered with the faint echoes of light that creep in through my skin.
“A sacrifice,” she whispers before burning pain slashes across my palm. I cry out, but she holds my wrist tight, and I don’t dare open my eyes.
Energy hums around us, all four of them chanting now in unison. My vision flashes with the night sky, torches, and my stomach churns at the sight of the gallows before me. I walk, arms locked in the hold of two men, the angry crowd hurling insults at me. Calling me Satan’s whore and witch and devil worshiper. I feel the loss of my loved ones, the loss of my peaceful coven, and the anger of betrayal. High up on the hill behind the gallows, I catch sight of five men standing over it all. Chiseled features, pale skin, burning eyes. Vampires. Blackthornes. The masterminds of this whole affair. The reason I die tonight.
“Natalie!” Peresphone’s voice cuts through the vision, bringing me gasping back to reality.
I let out a shaky sob and collapse to the floor. “Why did I do that fucking charm?”
“Charm?” she asks.
“Gran’s charm. To help me see my soul’s past. I don’t want it anymore.”
She takes my chin between her fingers, gently turning my face to hers. “If your Gran sent you on a journey, it was for a purpose.”
“She wanted me to feel what it was like to be hanged?”
Opal and Dottie both gasp. “Hanged?” Dottie whispers.
“She is a Good, after all. A daughter of our original coven. It makes sense she would share Sarah’s soul.”
I look at Persephone with brows furrowed and confusion clearly written all over my features, but I don’t ask how she knows.
“Sarah was the coven leader. The one who saved us from the vampires. The one who took the fall for everything. She was the only of your line to die here in Salem.”
A tear trails down my cheek. “She was pregnant. They put her in prison and her baby died.”
“That’s not even the worst of it, my dear. The Blackthornes did everything in their power to make the witches suffer. They wanted us gone, wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Why?”
“Because the only way to stop us was to kill us. They knew we were growing more powerful by the day. If they hadn’t killed Sarah, we would have spread her sun magic to every witch in the world, and vampires would have been eradicated within ten years.”
I didn’t know that part of the story. But it makes sense now. “So they created the hysteria?”
“Smart girl. Yes. You know vampires can compel the thoughts of humans…witches too. But what Elias Blackthorne and his brother did to the people of Salem was so much worse. They drove those humans mad. Tortured those poor girls.”
“Is this…my curse?” It doesn’t add up. “I started seeing things before that happened.”
She shakes her head, then strokes my cheek with her soft fingertips. “No. Your curse is much worse. You will face your greatest fear. Your greatest foe. And there’s no way to stop it.”
“I…how will I know what that is?”
“Tell me, dear one, what scares you more than anything?”
“The Blackthornes. A fate as terrible as Sarah’s.”
Her lips press into a tight line. “Then that is what you’ll face. Eventually they’ll come for you. I have no doubt and no way to protect you from them.”
“What?” Panic claws at my throat. “You can’t just leave me for them.”
“The curse has stolen your power and left you at their mercy.”
“And how do you expect me to protect myself?”
“I don’t. I’m assigning you a guard of sorts. Dex,” she says, crooking her finger. The man strides toward us, apprehension written all over him. “Keep her with you.”
“I’m not a child,” I argue.
“Are you sure about that, Natalie?” Dex asks.
I snort. “You don’t know how to handle me.”
“I don’t want to handle you.” He sounds so irritated with me, and I don’t understand why.
“What is your problem?”
“You show up and dump a curse in our laps. Excuse me if I’m not thrilled about that. You might have the Good blood running through your veins, but you don’t deserve the treatment they give you.”
“Enough!” Persephone yells, making the lights flash and the windows rattle. “Dottie, Opal, let’s go, we have to find her a safe place. Dex, you stay with her. If anything happens, call me.”
Rather than use the door, the three of them link hands and vanish in a flash of energy that knocks both Dex and me backward.
“Get your purse,” he orders as soon as the air stops crackling.
“What?”
“I have a date tonight, and you’re not going to fuck it up for me.” He strides toward the door, and I roll my eyes, but grab my bag off the hook by the front door.
“Fine, but if something happens, this is all your fault.”
6
Natalie
I’m uneasy in Dex’s car, my leg bouncing with nerves the whole time. I can tell I’m annoying him. He keeps looking at my knee like he wishes he could stop me.
“Where are we going?” His cheeks go slightly pink, and I laugh. “Oh, my God, you really like this girl.”
“Guy,” he mutters.
My head cocks to one side because I don’t think I heard him right. “Excuse me?”
“Holden is a guy.”
“I didn’t realize you were gay. Sorry I assumed.”
He rolls his eyes. “If you must know, I’m bi.”
“I guess that broadens the dating pool.”
“And complicates it.”
I never thought of it that way. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
Something about the way we’re talking now makes me like him more. Not in a romantic way, but in an I-could-be-friends-with-this-douche kind of way. “Okay, so where are we headed for your hot date?”
“A club called Lo-Fi in Boston. It’s soul night tonight. Hope you’ve got your dancing shoes on.” He glances down at my skirt and pointy toed shoes. “Nice choice.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, the curse could bring the Blackthornes to me at any time. Should we be out in the open?”
He smirks. “You forget. I’m very powerful. I’ll hide you with a glamor.” He pulls into a paid parking garage and takes an empty spot in the back, turning the car off as
soon as we come to a stop. Murmuring an incantation, he casts a disguise over me, and when I look into the visor mirror, I raise my brows in surprise. He’s made me look like…me. “Nice try. It didn’t work.”
A laugh fills the car. “Yes it did. You can’t see it, but you look like a completely different woman now. Anyone looking for you won’t recognize you. So, come on, let’s live a little before we have to fight for your life.”
We get out of the car and stride up a hill toward the sounds of the club. It’s loud and fantastic even from the street corner. “I have to admit, this is what I wanted in New Orleans. Instead, I got a migraine and a curse.”
“Had big plans?”
I shrug. “Killian was there.” I don’t know why I say it. I’m not interested in Killian.
He sighs. “You don’t stand a chance with that man.”
“Why not?” I’m offended. I know I’m curvier than some might like, but I happen to love my body.
“He’s gay.”
“No, he’s not.”
Smirking, he gives me a look that says I’m very wrong. “You really need to get out a little more, Nat. Killian is definitely gay.”
“You know this from personal experience?”
Raising his fingers to his lips, he makes a locking gesture and tosses the imaginary key. Then he takes my hand and pulls me inside the lively club.
Red brick walls, dark corners, loud soul music, and people moving to the rhythm all come at me in one fell swoop. It’s a beautiful cacophony of noise and life. “Want a drink?” he shouts over the music.
I nod, but he doesn’t ask me what I’d like, instead he leaves me to mill about the space. I wander slowly, exploring the maze that makes up the club. At the end of a hallway I find a second room, this one with a stage and old chandelier as well as velveteen booths and mirrored walls. It reminds me of a speakeasy from the 20s.
I close my eyes and sway with the music, letting the seductive sounds take me, until a presence behind me makes me stop. I turn and face the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Carelessly tousled dark hair, an intense, penetrating stare, strong jaw, cruel mouth, all the things I love. He smells amazing, familiar yet unidentifiable. But when he leans down and whispers, “We meet again,” my blood runs simultaneously hot and cold. Silas.
But I’m wearing a glamor. He shouldn’t be able to recognize me. “I can’t say I’m upset to find you again, Natalie.” His words cover me in warmth and arousal. That voice is exactly what I’ve been craving since last night, like a damn drug—deadly and absolutely devastating.
“I was right,” I whisper.
“About what?”
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close, swaying both of us with the music. “Hot British butter,” I say, my voice colored with the haze of attraction between us.
We don’t speak for the length of an entire song, tension between us pulling our bodies close. It’s lust. That’s the only explanation. But there’s nothing wrong with indulging in a little lust, is there?
His lips quirk into the hint of a smile and he tightens his grip on my waist, hunger in his eyes. “You feel it, too. Need.” He drops his head, lips brushing my cheek, then my ear. “Desire. Lust.”
Oh, God. My breaths come in sharp little gasps. I do feel it. I feel every inch of him pressing against me. I don’t answer him, but I don’t pull away either.
He straightens, still holding me, but those eyes of his lock onto mine. “You left.”
“So did you.”
One brow rises at my challenge. “True. It seemed…a safer bet.”
“Afraid I’d be the one to murder you?”
“Something like that. You look like you could deal a great bit of damage to a man’s heart.”
My cheeks heat. “That’s not something I’ve been told before.”
“Really? That surprises me. I’d venture to say you’ve witchcraft in your lips.”
My breath catches in my throat for a moment until the quote registers in my memory. “Shakespeare. Is that really how you pick up women?”
“Might be. It’s always worked before.”
I back away from him, not trusting my brain to keep my body in check. I can’t hide my grin. “Are you stalking me?”
“What are you on about? Stalking?”
“I mean, you find me at the cemetery, take me to a hotel, then suddenly I see you in Boston? It’s a little convenient. You don’t expect me to believe we just happen to be in the same place at the same damn time twice in two nights.”
“Well, for starters, I’m here because something keeps pulling me to you. I’ve tried to leave. Instead I’ve found myself…brought to you twice now.”
“Brought to me?”
“Yes.” He drags a hand through his hair, then wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs me until the two of us are outside, the cold air making my skin break out in goosebumps. I don’t protest when the man shrugs out of his jacket and places it on my shoulders. God, he smells amazing.
“Bergamot,” I murmur.
“What?”
“You smell like it. Like Earl Grey tea and…something dark.”
“And you are like lightning and rain on a summer evening.”
I frown. “So you’re saying I smell like a swamp?”
He laughs. “No. You smell like the life I crave.”
“Thank you for not being a serial killer, Silas.”
“How do you know I’m not?”
My heart lurches. “You’ve had me at your mercy. You didn’t hurt me. Why toy with me?”
“Because I can’t seem to stay away from you.”
“Then don’t.”
That smirk turns up one corner of his mouth, and I want to kiss that smile right off his face. But then he stiffens as though something has him spooked. His grip on my wrist is tighter than I like, and he tugs me into an alley, pressing me up against a wall.
“What are you—”
He silences me with his lips on mine, one hand in my hair while the other holds me in place. I should fight him, but his kiss isn’t unwelcome. I’d been entertaining the idea of this very thing only moments before. His lips leave me all too soon, and he whispers against my ear. “Come somewhere we can be alone. Let me have you tonight.”
I’m so close to saying yes. The thought of a night in the sheets with a man like him is tempting. I could forget everything else that’s looming. He could drive the curse away, at least for a few hours. He kisses me again, tongue begging entrance to my mouth, a low groan coming from him as the kiss deepens. My brain works hard to sabotage this moment, sending me flashes of my visions about Sarah, about what happened to her, but I push them away. Not now. Not when Silas is holding me, kissing the daylights out of me.
He backs off, forehead pressed to mine, lips close enough for me to taste again, but something about him has changed. A stillness has come over him even as the air between us crackles with tension. “Silas?”
“I have to go,” he says on a harsh whisper. “This was a bad idea.”
He strides away at a measured clip, leaving me alone and confused beyond belief. His jacket is still around my shoulders, smelling like him, keeping me warm, and reminding me of the cutting rejection he just offered up.
Following him around the corner, I pull off the jacket and call his name, expecting to see him on his way toward a car or something. Instead, I find a couple making out under an awning, a guy smoking under the streetlight, but no Silas.
“What the hell?”
I drape the jacket over my arm and storm back into the club, searching for Dex. It’s his fault I’m here in the first place. He’s dancing with a handsome man, smiling, and clearly having a great time. But the moment he catches my eye, his expression changes. He excuses himself and approaches me. “What’s going on?”
“Your glamor didn’t work.”
“What do you mean? Yes it did.”
“Then why did the man who found me when I arrived just recognize me?”
Eyes wide, he looks me over. “Is that his?” he gestures to the jacket.
I nod and hand it over after he holds out an arm. He closes his eyes and lets one hand hover over the fabric. “Shit,” he murmurs.
“What?”
“The man. He’s a vampire.”
7
Silas
This can’t be possible. I shouldn’t have let myself into her mind, but Natalie’s thoughts practically assaulted me. Why does she have Sarah Good’s memories? How? But fuck, I wanted her so badly. And she was ready to come with me, to let me take her. Instead, this. Her thoughts poured the equivalent of ice water down my spine and sent guilt and anger rushing through me.
Sitting in the sleek sports car I compelled a nice young couple to give me, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Lucas. He doesn’t answer, and I sigh in frustration as the call rolls to voicemail.
“Lucas, it happened again. Something is bringing me to her. I’ll need a safe place to stay until this is solved. She’s in Salem, so that’s where I need to be. Ring me as soon as you can.”
I hang up and start the car. I have a few hours until sunrise. Time enough to return to the hotel until Lucas offers up a Blackthorne-style solution. There’s always a safe haven in places the Blackthornes have lived. My family is nothing if not resourceful.
My chest aches, the scar on my left side, just over my heart giving a dull throb. It’s been quiet for hundreds of years, but tonight, seeing my family through Sarah’s eyes, it hurts again. Witnessing it all brings everything to the forefront for me again. Things I’d long buried. My sins have come back to haunt me.
8
Natalie
“I can’t believe you didn’t realize you were with a vampire,” Dex chastises me for the millionth time as we drive back to the coven house. He’d called Persephone as soon as we got to the car, anger hot in his voice as he’d relayed the situation to her. “You were close enough for him to give you his coat. You should have sensed it.”