The Curse of Dark Root: Part One (Daughters of Dark Root Book 3)

by April Aasheim

  It was Michael.

  “This is his work, isn’t it?”

  Shane nodded and leaned against the glass counter, folding his hands.

  “But Michael hates magic and potions and witchery…” I stopped, noticing a new addition to the jewelry section. Next to the mood rings and the crystal pendants, there were now small gold crosses dangling from cheap chains. I marched over to the display and yanked one from its hook. “He didn’t just watch the store either, did he? No, he added his little imprints all over the place.”

  Shane shrugged, as if too tired to answer. He then pointed to a framed poster on the wall above the door. A massive print of Da Vinci’s The Last Supper stared down on us, except the figures in the painting were all dogs, and all smiling.

  I had nothing against God, Da Vinci or dogs, but I didn’t like Michael deciding what should be sold in our store, a store that had been in my family for over forty years. I seethed, storming around the room, pointing out areas where I was sure his hands had been.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” I finally demanded.

  Shane spread his palms across the countertop. “Ruth Anne said she was going to, but I surmised from your reaction when we got here that you didn’t know.”

  “So that’s what she wanted to warn me about.” I scanned the shop again. Several large stone angels smiled down at me from a shelf where a gargoyle collection had once stood. “He needs to open up his own store and leave mine alone!” I eyeballed The Dog’s Last Supper again, my ire rising with every breath.

  “Frick!”

  Shane laughed behind me and I turned on him.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You just said Frick.”

  “So?”

  “It’s so prim and ladylike. Not my little cursing sailor at all.”

  “At least it made you laugh.”

  “That it did.”

  “What if I say the F word? Would that further improve morale?”

  “It might, but it would be very unmotherly of you to say the F word, Maggie.”

  “Yes, it would. Fuck you, Shane.”

  “That’s the woman I know and fear.” He came to me and enveloped me in his arms, pressing his forehead to mine.

  I could see that his eyes were rimmed in red, proof he hadn’t been sleeping.

  “You’re so tired, Shane.” My fingers churned through his soft curls. He smelled like bar soap and aftershave, though there was scant other evidence his face had seen a razor in days. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  He smiled half-heartedly. “I’ve never had a month like this one. But things are looking up.” His lips lingered near mine, just out of reach. “I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re okay.”

  “You can try.” I ran my hands beneath his blue cotton T-shirt, feeling the swell of his muscles as I moved towards his chest. Shane wasn’t a big guy, but he was strong, in mind and body. The thought of him fully naked––which I’d still only seen in our dreams––stirred me. I nibbled on his neck, stopping at his earlobe.

  “You feel good,” he whispered. “Like home.”

  “I am your home,” I whispered back.

  His fingers traced the curve of my jaw, then drifted to my cheek, brushing it softly before approaching my lips. We kissed again, searching each other’s mouths, reveling in the escalating heat between us.

  “We’ve got a break room,” I said, nudging my head towards the door in the back.

  “Our first time together will not happen in the break room of your ma’s store.”

  “What about the front room?” I lowered my eyes, coyly. “We can shut the blinds.”

  Shane put his finger to my mouth. “No, Maggie. I’m old-fashioned, I know, but I’ve waited my entire life for this. I want it to be special.”

  I reluctantly drew back. “I know. I want that too. It’s just so difficult.” Changing the subject to get my mind off of his body, I asked, “Were you told what happened to me?”

  “I was briefed. A spell, right? They had to call in Larinda.”

  “A curse that she probably put on me. Just wait until I find her.”

  Shane shook his head. “Let Jillian and Dora handle this, Mags. If it is Larinda, they’ll take care of her.” He rested both hands on the swell of my belly. “You concentrate on taking care of yourself right now. Once the baby is born you can go after the responsible party, with my blessing.”

  I moaned and broke our embrace. “Fine. I’ll wait. But I don’t like sitting on the sidelines while others are fighting my battles.”

  “You’ll have many battles to fight. Right now, let your friends and family take care of you. You’ve earned it. Now, shall we go?”

  I took one last look around Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe, mentally noting what to yell at Michael about later. I turned off the lights and Shane locked the door behind us.

  “Take this.” Shane handed me the shop key.

  “Why, you going somewhere?” I joked.

  He pressed the key into my hand, closing my fingers around it.

  “Keep it,” I said. “I know where I can get more.”

  He nodded, then pocketed the key.

  I wasn’t sure why, but it felt important that he retain it.

  We paused before crossing the street to Dip Stix. “It’s time now, Shane. You can’t hide it from me forever. Let’s go.”

  NINE

  We Gotta Get Out of this Place

  Stepping inside Dip Stix Café, where I had spent so much time over the last several months––eating, reading, and falling in love––it was hard to believe that this was the same place.

  The once-decadent white linen table cloths were now covered in a thin layer of soot and ash. So too were the checkered curtains, and the paintings that were strung by a blackened clothesline across the far wall. Nothing was spared, not walls nor floors nor anything in between. There were patches of hope here and there, valiant attempts to clean the smoke damage by hand.

  “Shane, this is terrible.” I covered my nose and mouth with my hand as I waded further in.

  Shane stooped to plug in a strand of white Christmas lights, and the perimeter of the room lit up. Once, these lights had lent the café a charming ambiance. Now they only added to the oppression, a grim reminder of Dip Stix’s former glory.

  “That’s not the strangest part.” Shane took my hand and guided me to the kitchen.

  The walls were charred black. Much of the paint had blistered and peeled away. The real disaster happened here.

  “How?” was all I managed to say. Shane had poured his soul into this restaurant and now it lay in ruins.

  “Nobody knows, not even the Fire Chief. I’ve gone over it again and again but nothing adds up. I was upstairs sleeping when the alarms went off. By the time I made it downstairs it was already too late. There were four or five small separate fires spread around the kitchen. Luckily, the extinguisher worked and Michael saw the fire from across the street and called for help.”

  “Michael saw the fire?”

  “Yes.”

  I made my way back into the dining room, looking through the window at my mother’s shop. Shane followed. “What time was it?”

  “Almost midnight.”

  “And Michael was still at our store?”

  “He stays late sometimes.” Shane scratched the back of his neck and looked around. “To be honest, I don’t like him being in your shop, but if I had to choose between him being there or in the house with you, I’d choose the shop any day.”

  I pressed my lips together, my eyes wandering up and down Main Street. It was all too serendipitous.

  “When did this happen, Shane?”

  “Six days ago. Or nights, rather.”

  I did the math in my head. Five days ago was the Spring Equinox, the end of one cycle and the beginning of another. A time of rebirth and renewal, and of high magic.

  Still, that didn’t explain anything. But it was another strange coincidence.

 
Shane leaned against one of the few clean spots on the wall. “I have to admit I was suspicious of Michael at first. I mean, the guy has a motive for wanting me out of the picture.” He shook his head, staring at his boots. “But Merry assures me that he has a clean aura, and if it’s good enough for Merry…”

  “Michael’s very charismatic. He probably brain-washed my sister.”

  “I certainly don’t see his charisma, and as for Merry, she’s always had a mind of her own.” He looked towards the stairwell. “At least my bedroom wasn’t damaged.”

  “Oh? Can we see it?”

  “Are you sure you want to? Smells a little, but that could be the piled up laundry.”

  “Why do you have so much dirty laundry? You know you can use our washing machine anytime.”

  “My maid was on leave for a month.” I punched him in the arm and he feigned being hurt. “Let’s wait on the room,” he said. “Until we can do something in it.”

  I bit my lip, my mind reeling through the possibilities. Fire or no fire, baby or no baby, my body craved contact, specifically with Shane Doler. I sighed, reluctantly agreeing to wait a while longer, even as every part of my DNA cried out to knock him over the head, drag him into his room, and have my way with him.

  “I’m just warning you that once the doctor gives me clearance, I’m going to turn on all of my charms. I may even dig out some lingerie and comb the knots from my hair.”

  “Oh, you sweet talker.” He moved closer, cinching me in his arms. He kissed my neck, blowing warm breath over the spot his lips had touched. “I’m looking forward to that day, Maggie. I need to feel you. Every part of you.”

  “Every part of me?”

  “Yes. Hair knots and all.”

  He kissed me again, long and deep. I warmed in response. “That day can’t come soon enough.”

  “For both of us.” He looked at me, then took one small step back. “Mags? What’s that around your neck?”

  I smiled, lifting the ring to show him. “I found it on my bed this morning.”

  He fingered it, turning it over in his hand again and again. Recognition lit his face. “It’s the dream ring! Oh-ho! You have the dream ring!”

  “You didn’t leave it for me then?”

  “No. It wasn’t me. You must have plucked it right out of that realm. That’s amazing. Really fricken amazing.”

  “Don’t you mean fucking amazing?” I asked, smiling.

  “Yes, my little witch.” He turned the ring over in his hands and shook his head. “You never cease to fucking amaze me. I’ve been in a hundred dream worlds, and I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  “A hundred, huh?” I scrunched my lips to the side. Only a dozen or so belonged to me. I would have asked about the others if not for the dopey but happy look on his face as he studied the band.

  “Things are speeding up,” he said resolutely.

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head and escorted me back to the front door. He opened it wide, letting in the afternoon sun. “You hold on to that ring, okay? It’s a reminder––no, a promise––that I’m always with you. Understand?”

  “Okay,” I said, still confused.

  “Promise me.”

  I removed the ring from my chain and placed it on my finger, exactly as it had been in the dream. “Witch’s honor. Now can you take a girl to Linsburg for a sandwich? Ruth Anne ate half my breakfast.”

  “Not yet, Magdalene. There’s still one more thing I want to talk to you about. Follow me.”

  We strolled down Main Street, Shane tipping his hat to all the ladies and nodding to all the men. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He may be a dork but he was a sincere one. The Cowboy Code coursed through his Montana blood.

  When we reached the square at the far end of the road, Shane bought us kettle corn from a nearby food cart and we found a bench. It might have been a romantic afternoon if I didn’t feel that Shane was withholding something important from me. I took a few handfuls, eying him.

  “Spill the beans, Shane. After the last few days, I’m ready for anything.”

  He faced me, drawing in a long sobering breath. “This is hard for me to say, Maggie, but I have to leave Dark Root for a while. I’m not sure how long.”

  I blinked several times, repeating his words in my head to make sure I heard them correctly. But even then, the meaning didn’t register. “Where are you going?”

  “Someone I know, someone I care very deeply for, is sick,” he said. “I need to be there for her.”

  “Her? You mean your grandmother?”

  “No.” He allowed a long pause, rolling a piece of kettle corn between his fingers. “It’s Irene, Mags.”

  Irene. His ex-girlfriend and the woman he had trained with in a secret government sponsored operation before they both went AWOL.

  I propelled myself from the bench with one hand, dumping the kettle corn in the process. A nearby flock of birds waddled their way over and filled their greedy bills. Shane looked at me, his face a mosaic of sadness and resignation.

  “You’re really leaving me like this? I’m about to have a baby and I’m…” I stamped my foot in frustration. “I’m still under a curse and Jillian says I may get sick again, that it could worsen every day until the baby is born. Did you know that?”

  He nodded affirmatively and I felt like I’d been stabbed in the heart.

  “What about your Cowboy Code?” I demanded, waving my arms around enough to frighten off the birds. “Does that code say anything about leaving your pregnant fiancée to go be with your ex?”

  “Mags, come on. It’s not like that.” Shane stood and tried to touch me but I sidestepped him.

  “Then what’s it like, Shane Doler? Because I don’t know.”

  His mouth fell open but he didn’t speak.

  “You’re no romantic hero,” I continued, near hysterics. “You’re just a guy behaving the way all men do when things get too tough. You leave. Well listen here, Cowboy. You don’t have to leave me because I’m leaving you first.” I marched in the direction of Mother’s store. I’d hang out there until one of my sisters could come for me.

  Shane jogged after. “Maggie, please…” he begged, catching me by the hand. “You don’t understand.”

  I shrugged him off.

  “Maggie, she’s got cancer and it’s terminal. She may only live another month. Maybe less. I put it off as long as I could, waiting for you to pull through. But I got a call today that things have taken a turn…”

  I stopped in the middle of the road. “And if I didn’t?”

  “Didn’t what?”

  “Pull through? Would you have left anyways?”

  “I-I…don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  We made it to Miss Sasha’s Magick Shoppe and I realized I still didn’t have a key, and I wasn’t about to ask him for it. One of Michael’s stone angels stared down at me through the window, mocking me. “Take me home,” I demanded, re-crossing the street and climbing into his truck.

  “Can we please talk? We can still drive to Linsburg and have lunch.”

  I struggled with the lap belt, not getting it fully across my belly. Eventually, I gave up and let it slide back into its pocket. “No, I don’t want a fucking sandwich.”

  He hopped into the cab, firing up the engine but making no move to drive.

  “Ruth Anne was right. I guess I do have a type.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “I fall for men who always want more.”

  “Maggie, you know that’s not true.” Shane banged his forehead against the steering wheel. “You know me better than that.”

  I crossed my arms, twisting towards the passenger window. “I thought I did.”

  “Fine. If you want me to take you home without talking more about this, I will. But I think we are both going to regret this.” He drove, turning off Main Street and speeding down the backroads, without rhyme or reason. He muttered incoherently and I continued to i
gnore him.

  “Please try and understand.” He finally addressed me as we turned down the road to Harvest Home.

  “What’s to understand? You care more about Irene than you do for me.”

  “You’re not being fair.” He slammed his hand against the dashboard as we pulled into the lot.

  Michael instantly appeared in the front window, as if he had been keeping watch. “I can’t go in there,” I said. “I’ll walk to Sister House.”

  “No, you won’t. I’ll drive you there.” Shane swung the truck around and barreled back down the road. I didn’t want to stay in his presence another minute but I wanted to see Michael even less. “Let’s not leave it like this,” he said. “I don’t leave for several more hours.”

  “Several more hours? Why wait?” I glared, hoping to turn him to stone. It didn’t work.

  As we approached Sister House I noticed the porch swing rocking gently back and forth despite the stillness of the air. I did a quick scan for Maggie Cat but he was nowhere to be seen, but the food bowl that Merry had placed outside the door was half-empty. When I found him, the two of us would cuddle up on the couch and watch static TV.

  “I really am sorry, Maggie. If you’d stop being selfish for once, you might understand.”

  “Me? Selfish?” Shaking with rage, I floundered from the truck, slamming the door behind me.

  Shane didn’t give up. In an instant he was beside me, his cowboy hat falling to the ground. He grabbed me by the arm.

  “It’s something I have to do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “You can stay gone forever, for all I care.” I twisted the ring on my finger, trying to take it off so that I could throw it at him, but it wouldn’t budge. “You know as well as I do that I won’t be lonely.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” The cords in Shane’s neck tightened. I stared at him defiantly. After a long pause he nodded once, retrieved his hat, and returned to his truck. Throwing it in reverse, he peeled out of the driveway.

  When he was out of sight, I slumped down on the bottom step and fished my house key from my tote bag. I needed to shed tears––some angry, some sad––and I couldn’t do it out here. I’d go inside and cry alone.