Cursed Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  Not for the first time, I think back to the months after Seth died. I cut myself off from my friends because of what I did. I didn’t want to infect them with the evil I thought was inhabiting me.

  The thought of it is ridiculous now. I had no idea what true darkness was then. Even the little bits of Influence I’m conscious of are far more frightening than anything that lived inside me before.

  “It’s your call,” Sasha says. “I won’t try to convince you to do it if you don’t think it’ll work.”

  I offer a tight-lipped smile. I’m sure she could probably persuade me if she tried. She’s a master of manipulation. But doing so won’t serve either of our best interests. “Actually, I was wondering if you could find a spell that’ll keep me from tapping into the Influence at all. I mean, if I can’t use the Influence, it can’t hurt anyone. There’s got to be a spell for that, right? For keeping someone from using magic? I mean…” I hold up my wrist and tap the hemp bracelet.

  The arc of Sasha’s eyebrow tells me what she thinks of my plan—that it’s a bandage for a hemorrhaging wound—but she exhales and smiles anyway. “I’ll look.”

  I manage to smile in return. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah,” she says, pivoting on her heel to start back the way we came.

  I catch the crook of her arm with mine and tug her until she’s facing me. “No. Sasha—thank you.”

  She holds my gaze for a moment before rolling her eyes. “You’re not gonna hug me or something, are you?”

  “I’d never dream of offending you like that.”

  In unison, we start for our cars. Not for the first time, I’m struck by the unlikeliness of our alliance. Before the Influence spell, Sasha was at the top of a short list of people I wouldn’t trust under any circumstances; now she’s the keeper of my darkest secrets.

  My phone vibrates in my back pocket. When I see Owen’s name on the screen, I tamp down a wave of guilt. He has no idea I’ve been talking to Sasha, and if he did, he wouldn’t like it. He’d be even more unhappy if he knew why.

  Sasha glances at the phone, too. “Date tonight?”

  Her tone indicates her opinion on the matter. “Yes, Owen and I are going on a date. Do you have a problem?”

  She pulls her keys from her pocket as we approach her dilapidated Honda Civic. “Don’t you think you’ve got more important things to do than playing house with your boyfriend? I’d think with the Influence rearing its ugly head more often you’d want to spend more time alone. Or, you know, maybe spend more time searching for a solution.”

  “That’s not fair—you know Jodi’s policing me about doing research.” It’s not just that Jodi and Anya are close-mouthed about their own progress; they don’t want me trying to figure things out on my own. They’re afraid I’ll try something drastic on my own—which isn’t an unfounded fear. Just after the Influence spell, Jodi followed through on a threat to take my phone and limit my access to computers for trying to figure out how to rid myself of the Influence. “I tried pulling away from everyone once. It didn’t really help. Besides, being with Owen is one of the few things that keeps me grounded. I don’t go red when I’m with him. When we’re together, I can almost forget the Influence is inside me at all.”

  She leans against her car and crosses her arms over her chest, affecting a bad-girl pose. The look is amplified by her unruly dark hair, black tank top, and ripped-knee jeans. All she needs is a chain dangling from her wrist or her pocket. “Maybe forgetting what’s going on isn’t in your best interest. If you’re not thinking about it, you’re not fixing it.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I’ve got you, then, isn’t it?” I offer a wry smile. Sasha opens her mouth to continue, but I cut her off. “I understand where you’re coming from. You just need to trust that Owen’s not a distraction.”

  She looks like she wants to argue, but she gives a noisy exhale instead. “I’ll text you if I find any info, okay?”

  I nod and open the door to my car. Once I’m safely buckled inside, I slide my finger across the screen of my phone to reply to Owen’s message. I get where Sasha’s coming from, and I’m glad I have her on my side. But my time with Owen isn’t just about companionship. I need him. I don’t think I could get through this without him.

  I hope I’ll never have to try.

  Chapter Four

  Fox

  The only spot in the parking lot behind the bookstore is along the back edge. I could roll my truck up and down the aisles a few times in hopes that someone will pull out before the movie starts, but I’m in no mood. The atmosphere in the cab is so tense, I can’t wait to feel the balmy air outside.

  I feel Dana’s eyes on me as I cut the ignition. She’s pouting. Again. It seems to be her default setting lately. I take a deep breath before turning to her. I promised we’d spend the evening together and I don’t want to give her any reason to be more upset than she already is.

  She looks hot, as usual. She’s used the warmer weather as an excuse to cover less and less of her body. Tonight, she’s in a spaghetti-strap tank top. If it can even be called that. The thing barely covers where her bra would be, if she were wearing one. But she’s not—and that fact is tantalizingly obvious through the thin fabric. Her cutoff jeans are so short the pockets hang below the cuffs. And then there are her shoes—high-heeled, gladiator, biker-type things that creep up almost to her knees. Her makeup is impeccable, her hair styled wavy. She’d be completely gorgeous if not for the fact her lower lip is poking out like she’s a child.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, even though I don’t really want to know the answer.

  She takes in a deep breath, her chest straining against her tiny shirt. “You’ve barely said a word since I got into the truck. The whole point of us going out tonight was to spend some quality time together. We barely hang out at all anymore. And when we do, it’s like you’re somewhere else. Like now.”

  I sigh. This argument is already getting old. She’s been singing the same refrain for weeks now. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to make her happy. “I told you. Finals are coming up. My dad’s coming down on me hard about applying for colleges.”

  “I get that,” she begins.

  “I don’t think you do—otherwise you wouldn’t keep bringing it up.”

  Dana shrinks back at the sharpness in my tone and I immediately regret what I’ve said. I take a second to calm down before continuing.

  “Dad says it was always my mom’s hope that Griffin and I would have a better life than she did.” Mom got pregnant with Griffin when she was in high school, which derailed her plans for higher education. Dad said she wanted to go for a degree once Griffin and I were in school, but destiny had other plans. “Griffin’s never going to college, so that leaves me.”

  Dana softens and guilt twangs my heartstrings. I hate that this is the only card I can play that she’ll respond to. Her mom’s not a part of her life and her dad died several months back, so she gets the whole dead-parent thing. Sometimes I wonder if it’s the only thing we have in common. She reaches forward and covers my hand. “I get that you want to honor your mom.” A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “It’s one of many things I love about you.”

  The conditioned air in the cab is suddenly oppressive and I struggle to take a breath. Dana leans forward like she’s going to kiss me, but I turn and open the door instead. I don’t look back as I slam it closed behind me. I wait by the tailgate for her and hold my breath until I catch sight of her face. I luck out, because she looks slightly happier than she did before. Somehow denying her a kiss didn’t undo the progress I made in appeasing her.

  I probably should’ve let her kiss me, but it’s too late for that now. Instead, I link my hand with hers and lead her to the bookstore’s back door. I’m just glad we’re not fighting. Tonight will be so much easier to get through if she’s not mad at me.

  Eyes lock on Dana as soon as we enter the store. After spending the last six months with her, I’m used to it. And I get it
: She’s hard not to look at. I’m pretty sure I should feel protective or jealous about these guys staring at my girlfriend with thinly veiled lust, but I can’t dredge up the emotion.

  We have to walk through the main part of the store to get to the concession stand by the Main Street entrance. Once a month, the owner of the bookstore tacks up a white curtain on the store’s largest wall and projects a movie based off a book. The quality is crap and the sound is hit-or-miss, but that doesn’t keep people from turning out—especially people my age.

  There just aren’t that many things to do in Clearwater, I guess.

  As we stand in line, Dana nuzzles my shoulder. It takes a measure of self-control not to shake her off. I used to be totally into PDAs—especially with her. Call me an asshole, but it’s kind of awesome knowing every guy in the vicinity would give a testicle to switch places with you. But lately… Well, mostly I feel guilty about leading her on. I’ve needed to break up with her for a while, but I have my reasons for staying with her.

  But lately I’m wondering if those reasons aren’t good enough.

  The line shifts and I catch a glimpse of unruly red curls. Lexie Taylor is two people ahead of us in line, fingers entwined with Felix Wolfe’s. I’m still not sure how that happened. Lexie is among the most popular girls at school, and Felix… Well, he’s not in the same league. He’s well-known enough in his own way, I guess, though it’s more for his quick wit than anything else. But I suppose things have changed a lot this school year.

  As if he picked up on my thoughts, Felix glances back and catches my eye. He raises his chin in acknowledgment and I do the same. Absently, I rub at the hemp bracelet woven with snowflake obsidian and Apache tears that resides on my left wrist. Of course, Felix didn’t actually pick up on my thoughts; the bracelet guards against that.

  Lexie follows Felix’s gaze and smiles when she finds me at the end of it. She waves the people separating us to go ahead of her and Felix in line. “Hey, how’s it going? I feel like it’s been forever since we talked.”

  “Oh, ages and ages,” I agree, rolling my eyes.

  She shoves my shoulder playfully. “You know what I mean. I used to spend almost every free moment in your basement, and now…” She shrugs.

  It’s true. It was only months ago that the witches used to meet up at my place to practice spells or just hang out—mostly because my dad is usually out of state, driving a truckload of something or other from place to place. It meant I had to live under Griffin’s authority, but it also meant we could pretty much do whatever we wanted. But everything is different now. It’s been almost two months since the circle met altogether. I assume the others are still practicing magic, but I wouldn’t know firsthand.

  I nod as the line moves. Felix asks Dana something about a class they share, and while his tone is polite, his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I think I know why: If Dana hadn’t been so fixated on reclaiming the psychic abilities she lost, Krissa might not have ended up like she is now: filled with Influence that made her explode a dude. But he’s polite, which has to mean he’s not holding it against her.

  The four of us chat until it’s our turn to buy popcorn and candy. I’m more than a little glad for the distraction. With any luck, by the time Dana and I snag a seat, the movie will start and I can drape an arm around her to make her feel like the time is quality. I’d rather not get pulled into another conversation about the state of our relationship or—worse—what will happen after we graduate a year from now.

  After I pay for the snacks Dana picks out, I find myself behind Lexie and Felix again. They’re scanning the seating area for a spot.

  “You guys want to join us?” she asks when she notices me.

  I open my mouth, ready to say yes and follow their trajectory, but before the word slips out, I notice who they’re going to go sit by. Krissa and Owen have claimed a group of folding chairs a few rows back from the sheet. “Nah. Thanks, though,” I say, catching Dana’s arm as she starts after them. When Dana glances back at me, a confused expression crossing her face, I offer a smile. “Quality time, right? Just the two of us.” She smiles, and I know she won’t put up a fight. After a quick look around, I notice a pair of seats in the back row on the other side of the space. “How about right there?”

  Dana nods before starting for the chairs. I’m about to follow when something grazes my elbow. Felix leans in when I turn back. “You gotta get over it eventually, man.”

  Before I can even open my mouth, he’s off after Lexie, who’s already halfway to the seats Krissa and Owen saved for them.

  Irritation builds as I edge between rows to join Dana. Get over it? What the hell does he know about it? Oh, I forgot—everything, apparently. After Krissa and Crystal went back in time and found themselves here, but without the benefit of the memories of their lives in this reality, Felix was the person Krissa opened up to. He knew weeks before I did that the girl I’d been dating for years no longer existed for all intents and purposes. It pisses me off that he thinks that fact gives him the right to talk to me like he knows something. He doesn’t know anything.

  When I reach Dana, I shove the cup caddy and snacks at her. Surprise flicks across her face and I have to wonder what expression is contorting mine. “I’m getting popcorn.”

  She settles the cups down on the seat beside her and holds up the brown paper bag filled with candy. “But… we never get popcorn.”

  “Well, I want some tonight,” I snap.

  Hurt flashes in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve let you pick the snacks tonight. I can go get it if you want.”

  I shake my head before turning and stepping over feet and between legs to get back to the concession table. I was a dick to her just then—more like my brother than myself. I should’ve apologized, but I need a minute. Why does everything have to be so jacked up right now?

  The line of last-minute snack-buyers is longer than the one I stood in before. As I wait, my gaze isn’t drawn to Dana, but to Krissa. Her pale blonde hair is pulled back into a messy bun atop her head, probably to keep it from sticking to her neck. When we were together, she was forever complaining about how warm she got in the summer. I always suggested she wear her hair like it is now, but she would never do it—I doubt Crystal Jamison would’ve approved. It doesn’t fit the polished aesthetic she, Lexie, and Bridget Burke always went for, so Krissa couldn’t do it either. Of course, this version of Krissa never cared about such things. She tips her head back and laughs at something Felix is saying, and Owen slips his arm around her shoulders. I should look away, but I can’t, not even when she and Owen kiss.

  It’s torture, but I’m incapable of fighting it.

  The bookstore’s main lights dim and a chorus of cheers shoots up. An employee turns on the projector and the buzz of conversation dials back a few levels, although it doesn’t die down completely. Krissa stands, and after planting another kiss on her boyfriend’s mouth, she slips out of the aisle and disappears behind the nearest bookcase. I squint, attempting to follow her progress. There’s nothing in that direction but the bathrooms.

  There’s only a flicker of hesitation in my step as I leave the line and follow her. The projector is finally warmed up and the opening frames of tonight’s movie are filling the sheet, so everyone’s attention is at the front of the room. No one notices as head toward the bathrooms.

  Krissa’s hand is almost on the door to the ladies’ room when she pauses. When she turns, she gives a little start. “Fox, what are you…?” She allows the sentence to fall off. Her eyes close and she gives herself a little shake before opening them again. When her gaze fixes on me, her brown eyes are brighter, full of a mischievous gleam I’ve seen more times than I can count—any time we snuck kisses in class while the teacher’s head was turned, or when she’d brush up close against me in my basement while the circle was focusing on a spell.

  In three steps, she’s crossed to me. Her arms snake around me, her hands finding the nape of my neck. I dip my face
down and she tilts hers up so our lips meet. She presses in and kisses me so hard she nearly takes my breath away.

  We’re taking a risk—a bigger one than usual—but with Krissa pressed up against me like this, I can’t think clearly. Someone could see us—Owen or Dana might come looking for one of us—but I don’t care.

  Felix told me I need to get over it, but he doesn’t understand. There’s nothing to get over. Soon everyone else will know it, too.

  Chapter Five

  Brody

  The repository is one of the most beautiful buildings in town—not that anyone but an Amaranthine would ever know it.

  My people have lived here for generations, almost since the split with the Devoted soon after Seth was locked away in a quartz crystal. Like Clearwater, this place, hemmed in on all sides by an ancient forest, is full of magic. There are certain places in the world where the pulse of magic is stronger, and people with abilities are irresistibly drawn to them. Unlike Clearwater, however, this refuge in southern Illinois has been spelled by powerful witches to appear ruined and empty, and to make anyone without abilities feel unsettled when they draw near.

  But that’s not the history I’m interested in today. I push open the heavy wooden doors and enter the repository. As always, I’m in awe of the beauty of the space. The vaulted ceilings and natural light give it a warm feeling, despite the fact the air is always cool. I’m not here to appreciate the architecture, though, or enjoy the heady, musty smell. Today, I have only one thing in mind: learning as much as possible about Influence.

  I’ve heard of it, of course. Its power turns up like the bogeyman in scary stories told by children and in morality tales shared by adults. But fact often blends with fiction, and I need to separate the two if I want to be successful in my endeavor.