Cursed Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  My thumbs hover over the screen. The truth or a lie? Which will cast me in the best light?

  Someone moves into my periphery, standing too close to be another patron. Assuming it’s my waitress—Sue, according to her nametag—I wave my hand dismissively. “I don’t need anything right now.” I reposition my grip on the phone, but before I can continue typing, the person slides into the booth across from me.

  I look up, ready to read the waitress the riot act for disrupting my meal, but when my gaze falls on the booth’s new occupant, I’m too surprised to say anything.

  “What are you doing here?” Sasha demands. She looks just as I remember her: petite but strong, with thick dark hair and self-assured posture. Even the fire in her eyes is the same as it was during our last encounters. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Why are you back in Clearwater?”

  A smile spreads itself across my lips. She’s feisty, I’ll give her that. Her spark didn’t escape me during my first trip here. It’s obvious that where she grew up, she was the strongest witch she knew. She has a fearlessness about her borne of confidence that her strength is unrivaled. Her swagger is, of course, laughable. She’s not nearly as strong as she thinks she is, and one day she’ll learn that. “Why I’m here doesn’t concern you. You and your family aren’t on my radar this visit, if that’s what you’re worried about. You kept up your end of the bargain, and I’m nothing if not a man of my word. You can run along now.”

  She bristles. “I won’t be dismissed like a child. This is my town, and I have a right to know what you’re doing in it.”

  I chuckle. “Oh, it’s your town now, is it? Are you the new self-appointed savior? I suppose there’s an opening now that the old one is being ravaged by the darkness you invited here. Tell me, Sasha—how sweet is your revenge?” I savor the slight widening of her eyes as she registers my words. “Don’t look so surprised. Of course I knew what you were doing. I knew from our first meeting that you had no interest in helping the Amaranthine. But your interests served mine, so I didn’t care that you intended to use me. Now, I recommend you go about your day and forget you ever saw me.”

  She squares her shoulders in a valiant effort to look unfazed. “And if I don’t? What—are you going to have your assassin kill me?” Her lips curl. “Oh, wait.”

  I lean across the table, no longer in any mood to deal with her. “It’s true, I’d much rather have someone else do my dirty work, but make no mistake—I could kill you as easily as breathing, Sasha. Don’t make me prove it.”

  Her eyebrows twitch almost imperceptibly, and a muscle in her jaw jumps. I’m pretty sure she’s finally realizing she’s not the biggest bully on the playground. At the very least, she seems to be deciding she doesn’t want to test me right now. After a beat, she stands and leaves without another word.

  Sue, the waitress, arrives as Sasha brushes past her. “Will your friend be coming back?” she asks, water glass in hand.

  “No,” I say, and Sue doesn’t ask the question stirring in her eyes. She backs away quickly, leaving me to finish the task I started.

  I delete the text I began. It’s fortuitous Sasha found me when she did. Ten minutes ago, I had no idea how to respond to Jade, but now I’m feeling more like myself than I have in days. I have no doubt my assured tone will come through in my words.

  I’ve made contact. I’m confident she’ll accept my offer. She just needs a little time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Krissa

  When I wake the next morning, I’m sore in a way I didn’t even know was possible. My muscles are weak, and sitting up in bed brings a wave of dizziness. It’s as if I’ve just gotten over a bad bout of the flu.

  The last thing I want to do today is go to school. I grab my phone off my bedside table with a half-formed notion of texting Felix to see if he’d like to play hooky brewing in my mind. But the thought is chased from my head when I see the notifications on my lock screen. Sasha has sent me no fewer than five texts since last night.

  A wave of guilt floods me, roiling my already uneasy stomach. Did she find out about the spell? Is she mad because she wasn’t invited? I dismiss the thoughts immediately: Not being involved is partially her choice. But maybe she somehow got wind of how badly the exorcism failed. Anya could have reached out to her after I asked why she wasn’t present, and maybe Sasha’s upset I didn’t at least tell her what we were planning before I went through with it.

  I read through Sasha’s messages. They’re vague, but the takeaway is simply that she needs to see me. She’s been waiting for a response since last night, so I quickly type one out. I offer to meet up with her later today, but in an immediate text back, she insists we meet ASAP.

  I take my time getting ready, mostly because my body seems completely incapable of rushing. By the time I make it downstairs, there’s noise and movement coming from the kitchen. Mom, Dad, and Jodi buzz around the room, each in the middle of their own morning routine. Dad is cooking enough scrambled eggs to feed an army, Mom is cutting fruit, and Jodi stands at the counter with a half-dozen different bowls of herbs before her.

  Mom notices me first. A worried expression flickers across her face, and I wonder how much of what happened last night Jodi relayed to her. “You feeling okay, honey? You look a little pale.”

  “I’ve been better.” I don’t want to make her worry any more than I know she already is, so I don’t elaborate.

  Dad offers a smile over his shoulder. “I’m making eggs,” he announces, as if I haven’t noticed.

  I shake my head. The thought of ingesting any kind of food is too much for me to handle. “Actually, I’m meeting Owen for bagels this morning,” I lie.

  Dad’s face falls, but he rebounds quickly. “Okay, more for me.”

  Jodi edges past him, a stainless steel travel mug in her hand. “Drink this. It should help you feel better.”

  I don’t bother asking what is in this morning’s tea. It doesn’t really matter as long as it works. “Thank you.”

  Before I can turn back to the hall, mom crosses to me in two steps and wraps me in a hug. The embrace lasts longer than usual, like she’s afraid she won’t have many more chances to hold me. The thought makes my eyes prickle, but I blink the tears back. I don’t want her to see me cry. I don’t want her to think she has to be strong for both of us.

  Less than ten minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of the bagel shop Felix and I once visited. Sasha’s Civic is already there. When I climb out of my car, I’m sure to bring my travel cup. Although I’ve only had a few sips of the concoction, my strength is already returning. While I don’t think this blend of herbs will make me feel one hundred percent better, I have a feeling it will get me close.

  Sasha is sitting at a table in the back of the restaurant. A paper cup rests on the table, but she doesn’t touch it. Her expression is a mix of anger and concern. Now I’m really curious.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I settle in the chair across from her.

  She studies me in her shrewd way. She’s not a psychic, but she’s very good at reading people. I wonder what she sees in my face this morning. “I have news. You’re not going to like it.”

  My stomach sinks. Is it something about the Influence? Has she confirmed I’m a lost cause? I’m not ready to hear that if it’s the case. I take another sip of my tea.

  “I went out to get something to eat last night, and I saw someone I hoped to never see again. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Brody is back in town. I didn’t get a clear sense of what he wanted, but I’m sure it can’t be good.”

  I exhale, some of the tension draining from my shoulders. The news isn’t anything I can’t handle. “I know, and I know why he’s here.”

  Her eyes narrow. “You knew he was here and you didn’t tell me?”

  Her tone puts me on the defensive. “I was hoping he’d leave when I turned him down. Besides, I don’t have to tell you everything.”

  A wounded expression flickers a
cross her face, replaced almost immediately by an irritated one. “I never said you did, but a little warning would have been nice. Last time he was here, he threatened my family. If he’s back, I need to make precautions to be sure they’re safe.”

  I understand where she’s coming from, but her concern is unnecessary. Given the reason for his visit, why would he threaten Anya or Elliot again? “I have it handled,” I say, even though it’s not entirely true. I told Brody I wasn’t interested, but despite my hope, I never expected he would simply pick up and leave town. It doesn’t surprise me he’s still here, but when I don’t contact him, he’ll surely get the hint.

  Sasha tilts her head. “You going to tell me why he’s here?”

  I haven’t told anyone about Brody’s arrival, so I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about his offer. Since Sasha already knows he’s here, I don’t see the harm in giving her the reason. “Job offer. He wants me to be the new Amaranthine assassin.” I roll my eyes to illustrate how ridiculous I find the idea.

  Sasha doesn’t smile. “And you seriously think he’s going to give up because you said no the first time he asked? Maybe you’re having a hard time remembering because you weren’t directly on the receiving end, but last time he was in town, Brody didn’t take no for an answer. If threatening you doesn’t work, he’ll go after the people you love. And if warnings don’t work, he’ll hurt them. I have no doubt about that.”

  Her assertions make me shiver. With everything else going on, I haven’t given much thought to the lengths Brody might go to in order to convince me to join him.

  Unbidden, a series of images and sensations flashes through my mind. I remember what it was like the night I battled Kai. He was cocky. He boasted about all the people he killed, and for the first time, I wonder how he did it. Was he straightforward, or did he take his time? Did he make elaborate plans, or go straight for the kill? Did people see him and tremble, knowing they were looking into the face of death? Is that how they would look at me if I were to take his place?

  I close my eyes and shake my head. No, no one will ever look at me that way, because I’ll never become that person. “He’ll have to accept my answer once we get the Influence out of me.”

  Sasha blows out a breath. “I’m not having much luck on that front. There’s the dissevering spell, like I mentioned before, but beyond that, I’ve got nothing. Short of killing you, I have no new ideas.”

  I know she’s not serious, but talk of my death sends a shiver down my spine. I’m reminded of the other day when Felix made the same macabre joke. “Yeah, Jodi and Anya aren’t having much better luck.”

  She leans across the table. “Have they come up with anything?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek. I should tell her about what happened yesterday, but I’m not sure how she’ll react. Still, she deserves to know. “We tried a spell last night. An exorcism.” I hold up my hands and shrug. “Didn’t work.”

  Her eyebrows arch. “It’s actually not a bad idea,” she says thoughtfully. “I wonder if maybe you just need more power.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think that’ll work.”

  “But did they really give it their all? I mean, I get that they were channeling the full moon, but maybe there weren’t enough witches to do the spell. Let me guess: Jodi, Lexie, Griffin.” She ticks off each one on her fingers.

  “Not just the witches. We had the psychics, too. Everyone was there.”

  Sasha’s face tightens and I realize a moment too late that I’ve said the wrong thing. “Everyone?” Her tone is a challenge. It’s obvious she’s dubious we had enough power to properly work the spell.

  I know she won’t let me off the hook without giving her all the details, and I’m not up for a fight at the moment. I list off all the people who were at the house last night. None of the names surprise her until I get to Shelley Tanner and David Cole, but it’s not until I drop Elliot’s name that her eyes go wide.

  “Elliot?” Her eyebrows hike up her forehead. “And no one had a problem with that?”

  I shake my head. “Everyone knows he’s the one who warned Anya and me about the Influence spell. Anya vouches for him.” I press my lips together before continuing. “I asked her why you weren’t there, for what it’s worth.”

  “Oh, really?” she asks with an air of nonchalance. “What’d she say?”

  I could kick myself. Why did I have to bring it up? “She’s still angry,” I say quietly. “If you’d just let me tell her that you’re helping, maybe—”

  She shakes her head. “No. I don’t want her to feel like she has to be nice to me because I’m helping you. I want her to actually forgive me because she wants to, because I’m her sister.”

  “She will,” I say automatically. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I want it to be, for Sasha’s sake.

  After a beat, she makes a show of checking the time on her phone. “You should get going. You don’t want to be late for school.”

  I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Sasha stands and walks away from the table.

  I’m not sure why I care so much. She’s done plenty of terrible things. All I know is that if she can be a better person, then no one is beyond redemption.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fox

  There’s a substitute in third-hour English class, and I’m glad for it. Even on my best days, English isn’t one of my favorite subjects, and today is definitely not one of my best days.

  I’m still shaken by last night’s spell. What would’ve happened if Felix and Tucker hadn’t called out when they did? From my perspective, the spell had been going well. I felt the swell of energy as our incantation did its work. I knew we were pulling a spirit from Krissa’s body. I had no idea it wasn’t the Influence we were expelling.

  I could have lost her forever. I fought the urge to go to her as soon as the spell was over. I could have—everyone else was distracted enough. But once I saw in her eyes something was wrong, I couldn’t fight it anymore. She needed me, and I didn’t care who saw it.

  I’ve already taken more than a little crap from Dana for my interaction with Krissa after the spell was over. She was sullen on the way home, and she even had the audacity to tear up when she asked why I held Krissa’s hand for so long. When I snapped at her for being so jealous, she actually cried.

  The tardy bell rings, and the substitute—a decent-looking twenty-something guy in a button-down shirt and wire-rimmed glasses, stands and starts calling out names to take attendance. Once I verify I’m here, I open my notebook and start drawing. When we were dating, Krissa always encouraged me to grow as an artist. That’s what she called me: an artist. I never really thought of myself that way. I just like to draw. But Krissa would ask me regularly what I was working on. She would point out parts that she liked particularly well and she’d ask how I managed different effects. Dana, on the other hand, has only ever complained when I pull out my notebook, insisting I should be talking with her instead.

  How did I ever end up in this situation? Dana is a pretty awful girlfriend. She’s too needy, too clingy. Of course, I know why I started dating her. For all her faults, she has a number of attributes. She told me the truth when Krissa kept it from me. She was a compassionate ear when I wanted to rage about how unfair it all was. And I’d be lying if I said part of her allure isn’t physical. She is, hands down, one of the hottest girls in school. After Krissa started getting cozy with Owen, I wanted to prove to myself—to her, to anyone watching—that I had moved on, too.

  Except I never did. And neither did Krissa.

  Once the sub finishes with attendance, he points to the white board and reads off the instructions the teacher left there, as if we couldn’t do the same ourselves. We’re supposed to answer some questions about the novel we just finished in preparation for the discussion we’ll have tomorrow in class. When he’s recited the directions, he calls on a couple girls in the front of the room to pass out the paper with the topics on it. I roll my eyes as b
oth girls toss their hair and giggle in an obvious attempt to flirt with him.

  Once the questions have been passed out, the sub settles behind the teacher’s desk and pulls out his phone. The room comes alive in a flurry of movement as my classmates decide this particular substitute won’t mind if they sit by their friends.

  I flip the discussion question sheet over and start sketching a dragon. The buzz in the classroom grows as everyone starts talking at once, and I do my best to tune out the voices. When someone grabs the empty desk in front of mine, I don’t think anything of it—until it gets turned around and pressed against mine.

  Owen raises his chin in greeting. “Can I sit?” He doesn’t wait for my permission.

  I tense. Before he started remembering the other reality, I wouldn’t have thought anything of him coming over to chat. We were never close friends, but we were more than acquaintances. We even partnered up on assignments from time to time earlier this year. But since everything changed, he’s given me a wide berth. So why is he here now? Has he figured something out? I shouldn’t have taken Krissa’s hand last night. It felt so natural in the moment. She obviously needed someone to comfort her, and I was the one who noticed it—not Owen. Did I cross the line?

  Once he’s seated, Owen stares at me for a moment before taking in a breath. “I wanted to say thank you.”

  Instead of putting me at ease, his words make the hair at the back of my neck stand up. “What for?”

  He offers the smallest of smiles. “You were the one to talk Krissa down last night. I didn’t see she was getting worked up. I should’ve been the one to notice.”

  Damn right he should’ve been the one to notice. I fight against saying it out loud. Owen’s not being confrontational, and I don’t want to start a fight. “Of course, man. Anything for Krissa.” I’m about to leave it at that, but I just can’t help myself. “When you’re with someone for three years, you get to know their expressions pretty well. I get how you could’ve missed it.” It’s totally a dick thing to say, but the whole situation chafes. Of course I’m the one who realized Krissa needed help. I know her better than Owen ever could.